Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Black like me

I got home right as the Chicken was waking up from her afternoon nap. The Commander dove into the box of family albums and slideshow reels - looking for something special for a memory board that she would be making for my dad's services.

Number 2 had been by earlier and the Commander had already found pictures of my family that I had never seen before. She also found a typewritten page from my great-grandmother. It was a song that she wrote for my father immediately after his birth.

The Commander immediately locked in on my baby pictures. Her favorite ones usually involve some sort of VW as a baby nudity. My favorite ones are a series of shots of me drinking (water) from a Coors tallboy can. Two years old and already getting ready for the one-armed beer curls. Nice!

The Commander was still flipping through the book when she called me over to her. "VW, who is this?"

It was a series of pictures of me with a black man holding me.

"I don't know," I replied.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I mean, I. Don't. Know."

"How can you not know somebody that is holding you as a baby?"

"Ummmm....maybe because...I was a BABY when these were taken."

When the Commander doesn't get an answer that satisfies her curiosity, the unknown will drive her crazy until she can find out. It took me a long time to realize that when she had a question for me that I didn't need to necessarily give her the CORRECT answer. I just needed to give her a PLAUSIBLE answer. And that would keep the question from getting asked again.

Unfortunately, I was just as stumped by these pictures of me with a black man. I have no idea who he is.

Fortunately for me, she was willing to put off trying to find out this answer until my Mom arrived on Thursday for the services. But the Commander had other ideas about what we were going to do tonight.

She wanted to see my Dad's house.

She had never really been comfortable at this place. The hardwood floors were very dusty and if we brought the Chicken with us over there, it meant that we would have to change her clothes immediately afterwards. She was like a baby Swiffer in his place.

The guns were also an issue. She kind of freaked out the first time that she saw one of his guns and couldn't stop talking about it for a while. Number 2 finally convinced him to put the guns away because he was afraid that my dad might mistake him for a burglar try for some target practice.

So for the first time this week, I had my two girls with me as we went to Long Beach.

Even though it was after 5 p.m. when we arrived, the house was very hot and two fans were blowing the hot air around the place.

The Commander started a careful inspection of the place and let the Chicken run around. The Chicken enjoyed stomping her feat on the hardwood floor and couldn't run around the house fast enough. That scene must have looked like similiar to when my parents first moved into the house when I was about the Chicken's age.

The Commander was drawn to the pictures of the Chicken that we (okay, she) had given to my dad over the last 20 months. We had once found an unopened Christmas card that she had sent him about a year later. I was relieved to see that any envelopes from Orange had definitely been opened and the contents had been read.

She asked me to walk her through what I thought happened and I described the scene to the best of my knowledge. Tears started running down her cheeks as she acknowledged my guess at a timeline for my dad's final moments.

"I can't believe the Chicken is going to grow up without one of her Grandparents," she said. "It's just so sad."

"I know. This sucks more than I could have ever guessed," I replied.

it was really getting too hot to be in here so we decided to pack up and head back to Orange. I emptied my dad's mailbox and we headed back to our car.

There is still so much to prepare for my dad's services.

I just do not have the time to grieve.

VW

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