“Look mom, I need you to hold it together. I know I’m asking way too much but in the end, he is my father and I love him. I need for this to work, at the very least just for today.” I said pleading
She agreed, she held my hand and said, “Fine son, fine.”
By that time my dad was coming out the house and a couple of my cousins and an aunt came out to say hi. I took my son out of the car seat and said, “This is our son, Gibran Isaias Lopez.” I then quickly added, “I wanted to name him after my father Matias but his mother chose to name him Gibran after me.” Everybody gathered around and took a turn to hold our baby. “What do you guys call him, does he have a nickname?” My aunt asked. “We call him by his middle name, Isaias.” I responded.
I looked back to check on my mom and I could see that she was not at all happy but she was trying her best to be civil. By the time Isaias made his way back to his mother, my father asked me and Josh to accompany him to the store to get a quart of beer. Everybody else went inside my grandmother’s house.
The three of us walked up the hill being mindful of the larger loose rocks to avoid tripping on them. At the corner of the block, we took a right and two houses down, a small home with a store-like facade was visible. We walked in, my father grabbed his quart of beer out of a large container filled with beers and ice, then my father waved the beer at the store clerk and walked out. I looked at the store clerk and he wrote down the amount of groceries and my father’s name on a long list he had in front of him. I told my brother, “in store credit.” We walked out to follow my father.
He waited for us outside. He reached for his back right pant pocket and took out a book and handed it over to me. The title read, “Leonardo Da Vinci - Cuaderno de Notas”
“Here you go son, I’ve been thinking so much about you and I wanted to gift you this book. It’s some of the notes that Leona…” and before he could go any further with his description of the book, I interrupted, “A book? Really, for what? I don’t need a book – I need an apology for the way you treated my mother and all the damage you caused me.” Whatever it was that my mother felt earlier, I was now feeling. I felt it was really unfair that my father was brightly smiling and waving a beer around without having to pay for it yet my scars, my family’s scars were deep and at the moment they felt like fresh wounds.”
“For the love of GOD, you too need to let that go son. Time has swallowed that moment. You are now in the here and now - let it go.”
Tears ran down my face uncontrollably, I could no longer hide them, I could no longer hold them back.
Page 3
She agreed, she held my hand and said, “Fine son, fine.”
By that time my dad was coming out the house and a couple of my cousins and an aunt came out to say hi. I took my son out of the car seat and said, “This is our son, Gibran Isaias Lopez.” I then quickly added, “I wanted to name him after my father Matias but his mother chose to name him Gibran after me.” Everybody gathered around and took a turn to hold our baby. “What do you guys call him, does he have a nickname?” My aunt asked. “We call him by his middle name, Isaias.” I responded.
I looked back to check on my mom and I could see that she was not at all happy but she was trying her best to be civil. By the time Isaias made his way back to his mother, my father asked me and Josh to accompany him to the store to get a quart of beer. Everybody else went inside my grandmother’s house.
The three of us walked up the hill being mindful of the larger loose rocks to avoid tripping on them. At the corner of the block, we took a right and two houses down, a small home with a store-like facade was visible. We walked in, my father grabbed his quart of beer out of a large container filled with beers and ice, then my father waved the beer at the store clerk and walked out. I looked at the store clerk and he wrote down the amount of groceries and my father’s name on a long list he had in front of him. I told my brother, “in store credit.” We walked out to follow my father.
He waited for us outside. He reached for his back right pant pocket and took out a book and handed it over to me. The title read, “Leonardo Da Vinci - Cuaderno de Notas”
“Here you go son, I’ve been thinking so much about you and I wanted to gift you this book. It’s some of the notes that Leona…” and before he could go any further with his description of the book, I interrupted, “A book? Really, for what? I don’t need a book – I need an apology for the way you treated my mother and all the damage you caused me.” Whatever it was that my mother felt earlier, I was now feeling. I felt it was really unfair that my father was brightly smiling and waving a beer around without having to pay for it yet my scars, my family’s scars were deep and at the moment they felt like fresh wounds.”
“For the love of GOD, you too need to let that go son. Time has swallowed that moment. You are now in the here and now - let it go.”
Tears ran down my face uncontrollably, I could no longer hide them, I could no longer hold them back.
Page 3
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