the man that i love is black.
he refers to himself as a "country
boy from alabama". he is the hardest
working person that i know. his mother
is a retired schoolteacher, and his father was
a postal worker. Just to keep busy, his father
chooses to run the early morning route for the
local paper. they are good people that raised
a good man.
and i'm a good woman. although my memory
of them is faint, i think my parents gave me
a pretty solid foundation. i moved to the states
at the age of three. quite confused, i left behind
my beautiful young mother. she was my loyal playmate...
and she loved everything about me.
the most vivid
memory i have of us is her brushing away my black,
curly bangs out of my eyes. she would always jump
back and cover her eyes as if she were being blinded.
she'd scream that i was too beautiful to stare at.
i would jump on top of her struggling to force her
hands down. "open your eyes! look at me mother! i am
not too beautiful". she would giggle and grab me...
while tickling me she'd always end the frequent session
saying "you're exactly right, no such thing is too
beautiful. you, my dear, bless the earth".
i only remember that my father had black hair. i think
i have hair like him. my husband adores my hair.
tomorrow my family and i are going back to visit my
original home qatar. i left when i was three, and i
haven't seen my parents in 26 years. they had no desire
to leave, and i was not to return until i got my PhD.
we do keep in touch daily...through letters, and more
recently email. i am their oldest child...i have younger
sisters that i have never met in person. i stare at their
pictures daily. our same bright eyes...olive skin...and
curly black hair helps me to better remember mother and father.
we surely bless the earth.
it's weird, any stranger will know that these people are
my family...whether judging by pictures or in person.
its obvious. i see how my sons look like me, but most
people do not. they look like their dad...he and i
look nothing alike. although sometimes i wish we did.
i want any random person to know that my boys are mine
without having to say a word. it's nice to resemble
who you love.
either way, my parents will be thrilled to see me tomorrow.
i am now a doctor.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
whose stories are these (this post and the previous one)? are they people you know? can i read them somewhere? there's something nostalgiac about them; i see the images in sepia tone with hints of color. reads slightly "Eve's Bayou" - esque. quite lovely.
Post a Comment