God does work in mysterious ways.

Twenty-one years ago, I was praying for something that seemed impossible—a bridge to connect my unborn child with a part of his identity I thought he would never know. I was carrying Ken in my womb, completely helpless about what the future might bring, as I was clearly headed down the path of being a single mother. His late biological father and I were estranged, and the chances of his side of the family knowing about Ken’s existence seemed slimmer than a needle’s eye.

But I prayed. I hoped. I wished. Maybe not fervently, but enough to plant a seed in the universe. I just wanted them to know he existed, even if it was just for Ken to have a sense of belonging to both sides of his lineage. Deep down, I accepted that it might never happen, but it didn’t stop me from imagining the day it would.

Fast forward to life’s wild twists and turns. After his biological father passed away, nature began to take its course. Out of the blue, Ken’s dad’s family reached out before COVID hit. At the time, Ralph wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of Ken forming connections with them. And honestly, I didn’t blame him. Ralph practically raised Ken from the age of six, stepping into a role that wasn’t his by blood but one he took on with his whole heart. That kind of dedication comes with its fair share of protectiveness. Ralph wasn’t just Ken’s father figure; he was his dad in every way that mattered.

But now, the tide has shifted. Perhaps it’s the wisdom that comes with being a grandfather, or maybe it’s the realization that love and connection aren’t zero-sum games. Whatever the reason, Ralph has started to loosen up. And wouldn’t you know it, the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Ken, now a father himself, decided to visit Dagupan City to spend time with his grandmother—the mother of his late biological dad. He’s also been in constant communication with his aunts in Chicago.

I can see how much this means to Ken. He’s soaking up every moment of this newfound connection, piecing together parts of his story that were missing for so long. It’s as if God decided, “Now is the time. This is Ken’s moment to meet his other side of the family.” And who am I to question divine timing? It’s been nothing short of amazing to witness how all these pieces fell into place, seemingly out of nowhere but perfectly orchestrated nonetheless.

To say my heart is full is an understatement. Watching Ken embrace this new chapter of his life has been a joy I didn’t realize I needed. It’s a testament to the power of faith, patience, and the belief that even the most impossible dreams have a way of finding their path to reality—just in their own time.