Thursday, August 16, 2012
I bring a cake.
We make the table together, I cut tomatoes as she puts down plates and father finishes mashed potatoes. Everything smells great and is piping hot. We sit down to eat.
During soup I make my announcement:
"In this time since we last saw each other I managed to get back together with I."
Father smirks happily into his plate, knowing that only I will notice his grin.
Mother puts down the spoon, lets out giant sigh of relief and says:
Usually, she knows better than to ask anything personal about my life. In usual circumstances I would never have her appraise my business. It's always just sour grapes with her. But this is important to me and I do not want silences, omissions and lies cloud how much this is important to me. So I volunteer the information.
But her reaction surprises and startles me:
"What do you mean: "I'm glad."?!
"I'm glad. I don't like you being alone. It is nice to have someone to talk to and share your life with."
"You're a real parent.", I say, half in wonder; moved and surprised.
She says: "I am. I want you to be happy."
We continue to eat in silence, munchin' away happily from our plates.