LET ME SHARE WITH YOU A TWO PAGE SHORT STORY.COPYRIGHTED

ON MAY 25TH, 2007 ENTITLED "LIKE IT WAS" WHICH I BELIEVE HAD BEEN PLAGARIZED LIKE MANY OF MY INTELLECTUAL PROPERTIES... WHEN I THINK OF MY FATHER IT MAKES ME WANT TO CRY. I REMEMBER ONE DAY IN PARTICULAR WHEN WE WENT SHOPPING FOR A HAT. IT WAS RIGHT AFTER WE HAD LEFT THE HOSPITAL. I WAS ELECTED, AS USUAL, BY MY MOTHER TO DO HER JOB. SHE COULDN'T. SHE WAS WORKING. IT WOULD NOT BE UNTIL I WAS AN ADULT WHEN I WOULD REALIZE HOW MUCH CONFIDENCE MY MOTHER HAD IN ME, EVEN AT A YOUNG AGE. "COME ON DEVIL...)DAD'S UNIQUE NAME OF ENDEARMENT FOR ME)...HELP ME PICK OUT A HAT" WE LEFT THE HAT STORE WITH MY DAD WEARING A DARK BROWN DRESS HAT WITH A WIDE, DARKER BROWN SILK BAND, WRAPPED AROUND ITS CROWN. THE MEDIUM WIDTH BRIM MADE HIM LOOK LIKE ONE OF THOSE HANDSOME DETECTIVES IN THE OLD BLACK AND WHITE MOVIES. MY DAD WAS TRULY MORE HANDSOME THAN CLARK GABLE AND ROBERT TAYLOR PUT TOGETHER (IF YOU NEVER HEARD OF EITHER, ASK YOUR GRANDMOTHER, OR GREAT GRAND, THEY COULD PROBABLY TELL YOU). PEOPLE SAID I FAVORED MY FATHER MORE THAN MY MOTHER. WE WERE BOTH THE COLOR OF CARAMEL. HE HAD LARGE, DARK BROWN EYES THAT SHINED WITH HOPE, BUT, AT THIS TIME, MUCH LESS SO. HIS HAIR WAS THICK AND WAVY. HE HAD A MOUSTACHE THAT TICKLED. BOB MY OLDER BY FOUR YEARS, FRECKLED FACE BROTHER LOOKED LIKE MOM. BOTH WERE FAIR-SKINNED, WITH ALMOND-SHAPED SEDUCTIVE EYES. HIS WERE HAZEL AND HERS BROWN. BOTH HAD PERFECTLY SHAPED ROSE BUD LIPS. MOM LOVED THE WAY DAD LOOKED. SHE THOUGHT HE WAS HANDSOME. I DIDN'T QUITE UNDERSTAND WHAT HANDSOME MEAN BACK THEN. THOUGH I DID BELIEVE THAT ALL PEOPLE WERE INTERESTING TO LOOK AT, AND, EVEN MORE FUN TO WATCH. SO, WHEN MY DAD SMILED DOWN AT ME THAT DAY AND ASKED, "sO HOW DO I LOOK DEVIL?" I LOOKED UP, SMILED, AND SAID, "GOOD". I'D SEEN HIM LOOK BETTER. HE HAD BEEN LOSING WEIGHT AND COUGHING UP BLOOD. DAD HAD FAINTED WHEN HE AND MOM DECIDED TO SPEND A ROMANTIC SUNDAY AFTERNOON TOGETHER TAKING A FERRY BOAT RIDE UP THE HUDSON RIVER TO BEAR MOUNTAIN. I COULD TELL BY HER SOMBER EXPRESSION WHEN THEY RETURNED, TELLING MY BROTHER AND ME WHAT HAPPENED, THAT SHE WAS EXTREMELY WORRIED. DAD WAS THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN HER LIFE. MOM HAD NEVER KNOWN HER REAL PARENTS. RUMOR HAD IT THAT HER BLOOD FATHER HAD BEEN FROM MARTINIQUE. HE WAS PITCH-BLACK AND WEIGHED OVER FOUR HUNDRED POUNDS. HE MADE A GOOD LIVING AS A PROFESSIONAL CHEF. HIS WIFE WAS A PETITE WHITE WOMAN FROM FRANCE, WHICH WAS WHERE THEY HAD FIRST MET. THIS INFORMATION HAD BEEN IMPARTED TO MY MOTHER BY THE COUPLE THAT HAD ADOPTED HER WHEN SHE WAS LESS THAN A YEAR OLD, A BLACK BAPTIST MINISTER AND HIS WIFE WHOSE DAUGHTER BECAME MOM'S SISTER. I THINK BECAUSE MY GRANDPARENTS HAD MET THERE WAS WHY MOM HAD SPENT MOST OF HER LIFE DECLARING SHE WAS GOING TO PARIS. MY DREAM WAS TO GET HER THERE. THAT WAS A DREAM THAT DID NOT COME TRUE, BUT THERE WERE OTHERS THAT DID. I WOULD COMPLETE MY MOTHER'S LIFE LONG WISH WHEN I TOOK HER TRIP TO PARIS, TWO YEARS AFTER HER DEATH. HER REMAINS WERE PLACED IN THE GRAVE, SUITABLE FOR THREE, ALONG WITH MY FATHER. I WOULD BE THE FINAL TENANT WHEN MY TIME CAME. IT WAS A CLOUDY DAY, GRAY OVERCAST, CAUSED NOT ONLY BY THE WEATHER, BUT FROM THE SOOT FROM THE NEARBY FACTORY THAT DAD AND I PASSED AS WE WALKED THE HILL TOWARDS HOME, SIDE BY SIDE. THE ADULT AND CHILD. WHICH WAS WHICH. DAD AND ME. BOTH! I WAS STILL THINKING ABOUT THE X-RAY THAT SHOWED THE BIG, BLACK SPOTS COVERING MY FATHER'S LUNGS THAT THE SURGEON HAD POINTED TO:AN IMAGE THAT WOULD LATER FOLLOW ME, POPPING UP, WITHOUT WARNING, MERCIFULLY INFREQUENT. THE SURGERY TO INSERT A RUBBER TUBE TO DIRECT THE FLOW OF PHLEGM FROM DAD'S COLLAPSING LUNG TOOK PLACE WHILE I GAVE BIRTH AS MY FORTY TWO YEAR OLD FATHER LAY DYING OF CANCER TWO FLOORS ABOVE IN THE SAME HOSPITAL. WHEN HE RETURNED HOM I WATCHED HIM SIT IN THE LIVING ROOM, SEAT SOAKED, HIM WHILE HE STRUGGLED TO HOLD HIS NEW GRANDSON. HIS DYING FLESH STRETCHED ACROSS HIS TEETH TO FORM A MACABRE SMILE. HE WHISPERED LOVE WORDS TO THE MINIATURE ARRIVAL THAT WAS PART OF HIM SENT TO TAKE HIS PLACE. AS I WATCHED I DID NOT UNDERSTAND THEN, AS I DO NOW. THAT LIFE AND LOVE NEVER DIE. THEY JUST CHANGE FORM. (C)COPYRIGHTED BY GWENDOLYN MITCHELL, MAY 25TH, 2007 THIS BLOG COPYRIGHTED AT (C)COPYRIGHTED ON SATURDAY, JUNE 27TH, 2015 AT 2:17AM, LA, CA 90093, USA