Oh yeah, food.
Shoot, and a photographer.
Me: Momma, I think we forgot about food and pictures.
Momma: Do you really think I’d forget such important things, Tae?
Me: Oops, sorry Momma. What are we having?
Momma: I thought you wanted to be surprised?
Me: Shoot, I forgot. Is there anything we can help with?
Momma: Nope, I’ve got it all. Focus on your room and I’ll make sure your big day is everything you dreamed of and more.
I think Momma was bored and this was just the project for her.
Me: Thank you. Love you, Momma.
Momma: Love you too, son to be.
I was someone’s son who actually wanted me.
Occasionally, at times like this, thoughts of our parents popped into my head. Where were they? Are they still alive? I was old enough to know that the way we lived wasn’t right and I remember Oscar had to go find food for us all the time because our parents had passed out or gone. Sometimes for many days at a time. Drinking and drugs was something my brothers and I were never interested in, especially after all we’d seen. How the three of us turned out as well as we did was a miracle.
Grandma was strict but not mean. She was our dad’s mom, and she tried to help our parents more than once, but they never stayed clean. When Samian was a baby, we got kicked out of the apartment we lived in and that’s how we ended up in that broken-down motor home. No clue where they got it from. It was filthy, bugs were everywhere, but without a phone we had no way to call our grandma for help. Heck, I’m not even sure Oscar knew her number or even where to tell her we were if he could call.
Oscar protected us from our parents as best he could. Whenever the fights broke out between them, he’d wrap us up and we’d go to the park. That’s where the cops found us that night. They asked Oscar where we were living and when they took us home,they made us wait in the police car while they talked to our parents. Whatever they saw wasn’t good because we never got to go back inside. They took us to the police station and Oscar told them everything he knew about our grandma and somehow, they found her.
As soon as grandma saw us sitting inside the police station she started crying. I’d never been hugged so tight in my life. She spoke to the officer in Spanish, which my brothers and I didn’t speak, so we had no clue what was being said. When we got to her place, she bathed and fed us. I swear, that was the best night’s sleep I’d ever had. For the first time in forever I felt safe and my tummy was full. My brothers and I shared a bed for a few days until grandma got us bunks but we were more than okay with that. Oscar was mine and Samian’s rock and we needed to stay close to him until the chaos of our lives settled down. Besides, we’d always shared a bed, so that was nothing new for us.
Then a few years later, we lost our grandma. It was like life ripped the safety net out from under us. For some reason the powers that be had something against my brothers and me which was likely what triggered my acting out. No matter how fucked up our parents were they were still that—our parents, and it was hard to let some thoughts and feeling go. But if they really cared about us they’d have made things right, but they never did. Which only leads me to believe they were dead or in jail. Even if they weren’t, it was best for my healing journey to believe that. Or so the therapist the state had made me see for a while had said. Got set up with her after my first panic attack hit in juvi.
Some people were better out of your life than in Tae, even if the same blood flowed through their veins as yours.
Enough with the sads.
These are happy times and it should stay that way.
With the folding table set up in the middle of the playroom and the carpet covered in plastic, I began mixing the colors I’d need for areas I was tackling today. The mural was drawn across two full walls with a special message on the closet wall next to the door. A bit of inspiration to read every time I entered the room or on the days when I was feeling down.
With having Daddy in my life, that didn’t happen as much as it used to, but sometimes the sads just hit. They were meanies like that. I dove in and the muse took over. Not sure how much time had passed before Daddy knocked on the door.
“Is my little artist ready for dinner?” Daddy called out from the hallway.
“Yes, Daddy. Let me wash my brushes and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“Can Daddy have a peek inside?”
I shook my head and grinned even though he couldn’t see me. “Not yet, Daddy.” With the paint cans closed and the leftovers covered to be used again tomorrow, I took the brushes to the garage where Daddy had installed a special sink for us to use to wash messy stuff. The brushes were hung to dry on the rack he made then I washed my hands and met him for dinner.
“Daddy filled up your empty bottles. Two are in the fridge for tomorrow.”
He must’ve been really full to pump right away we he got home. Did I forget to nurse last night? “Thank you, Daddy. Dinner smells yummy.”
“You know, it hit me today that the wedding is only three weeks away.”
That put the brakes on my brain. “Whoa.”
