Daddy’s Home!

Categories: family, fear, health, my history

My mom just gave me the call a few minutes ago telling me that they gave my Dad his discharge from the hospital. My mom sounded SO excited. Like… the way I sound when my baby comes home from somewhere far. It’s always been so vague to me about the love between them. Haitians can be really… non-emotional. At least the older generation. They don’t want you to know the contents of their heart… which is dumb to me. But again — the older generation. There was only one time that my mom and dad would act like what I thought a married couple should act like. John Lennon’s “Woman” would come on and my dad would reach for my mom’s hand and I would get all tingly. I always wanted to be in a marriage where the love was evident through out the house. Kisses in the morning, hugs upon the return, random attacks of love throughout the house from all. Just more syrupy and sugary sweet than the Cosbys. My baby and I have this nice tradition going. But when we spend the night together, the next morning, after showering and dressing and getting ready to go out… he puts my engagement ring on for me and proposes all over again. I LOVE it. It’s like we renew every morning that we see together. I asked him to promise to do it 50 years from now. I want it to be new, always and our kids to be gagging and dry heaving at how much love we show.

So my mom will have her boyfriend back. And she’s excited. So am I. I just always wonder what lies ahead.



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