Black Like Me Redux

It's getting close to the end of the reception so I grab a piece of the lemon meringue pie.

It's good but not as good as my dad could make.

My grandparents are ready to leave and I say goodbye to them. Every time I do this, I feel like it might be the last. My grandma has been telling me for 25 years that she doesn't have much longer in this wicked world and I'm only now starting to believe her.

My wife and I invite my Mom's family to come back to our house. We have dinner ready to serve there before people hit the airport or the drive back to Bakersfield.

I like having my family over because I'm proud of what the Commander and I have been able to build together. Our house isn't the greatest but it is ours.

The women on my Mom's side of the family gravitate towards the living room and start chatting. My late grandfather used to call this the hen party - and a whole lot of clucking would be going on.

I left the room to check my emails when I heard an explosion of laughter coming from the living room.

"VW! You need to come out here!!!" yelled the Commander.

My cousin and my brother were looking at the baby pictures that I picked up from my Mom's earlier in the week.

"VW, ask mom who the black guy is in your baby pictures," said Number 2.

In a few of the baby pictures of me, there was a black man holding me. I had no idea who it was but I was too worried about it. I didn't even think to ask my Mom about it.

"Mom, who's the black guy in the picture?" I asked.

"That's your Godfather."

Number 2 and the Commander thought that this was hysterical. I couldn't believe it. How could I go 35 years without knowing that I had a Godfather? How can this happen?

My Mom explained.

"He and his wife lived by us when you were born and we used to do a lot of things with them. But then we moved away and he and his wife divorced and we lost touch with them."

"So what's his name?" I asked.

My Mom paused and said three words that blew me away.

"I don't know."

More laughter erupted in the room. I've just found out that I have a Godfather but his name is lost in some fuzzy memory that my Mom had.

"How can you not know the name of my Godfather?" I pleaded.

"I'm sorry, VW. I don't know. Your father would know!" my Mom replied.

And that's where we are at today. We forget for a moment that my dad is no longer with us. We all assume that we can just ask him about it...but we can't. From here on out, any questions for my dad will have to go unanswered.

I reply to my Mom.

"Mom, it's a little late to ask Dad now."

And once more, laughter fills our little house.

VW