I dreamed of home last night...but not of my present day home. I dreamed of days in my home in Miami years ago when I was still untouched by the world, not yet deprived of the innocence that described the days of my brothers and I. I dreamed of my 5yr old self and how I wanted it all and what all consisted of was my 5yr old version of the Cosby Show...a happy family and two loving parents, and to be honest we weren't too far from that. My 5yr old self made it my duty to make sure that my parents only had eyes for each other...so much so that at parties often held at my grandmothers home on NW 62nd Street in little Haiti, I'd become livid at the sight of my parents dancing with anyone else but each other...I'd become hysterical, crying and getting in between my mother and whatever random Haitian man she was dancing with while tugging at her hand and leading her to my father so that they could dance the night away...and I do mean the whole night. These were the thoughts that ran through my 5yr old head...I wanted my parents to be happy with each other.
As I grew older and the world began to tear at my innocence I realized that...our home wasn't exactly like Cliff and Claire Huxtable's... Always being the inquisitive child that I was, I one day asked my Mom while she and my Dad were getting ready to go out, if I was the reason why they got married...mind I was no more than between the ages of 8 and 10yrs old. She denied it and said it all happened the way it was suppose to happen they got married and then had me...when in actuality it was the opposite...I was their love child...my mom became pregnant with me and then they decided to tie the knot in May, a month after I was born.
As the years continued to wear on my innocence I always wondered were my parents ever truly in love with each other. At times I resented them for their arguing and not just being happy with one another...God I wanted them to be happy with each other...why couldn't we be like the Huxutables? My mother only further infuriated me when at age 15 or 16 she decided she wanted to renew her vows with my father...Huh??? Dumbfounded, I was like are you kidding me...you two aren't in love. She explained to me how she never had the fairy tale wedding that she always dreamed of and how this was something that she was doing for herself. In light of her explanation I masked my frustration and replaced it with joy for her sake.
Flash forward to my 23yr old self...my parents still aren't like the Huxtables but are more like George and Louise (Weezie) Jefferson to describe them. Growing up I was so caught up with my 5yrs old self of what I wanted my parents and our family to be I forgot to take note of the god times that we had...that they had together. I forgot about the random kisses that they'd share while my mother was doing dishes when my father arrived home from work...the ones that would make me cringe and ask them to get a room. Clouded by how much I wanted them to be like the Huxtables that I forgot to take note of my fathers efforts to bring my mother joy--a random trip to JCPennys with him as he asked my opinion on what lingerie he should buy my mother for Valentines Day--eeew. Or how I'd randomly wake up at 3am in the morning to use the restroom and hear their muffled voices oddly enough not quite sure if it was their quiet conversation or them making "love"--eeew.
My parents' marriage is not one of the best and I don't wish to have their relationship either...But I've come to realize that somewhere behind all the the bickering, arguing, and lack of communication there has to be love between them. I don't believe that May 20th of this year will make it 24yrs since they've been married and there was no love involved. Despite their comments sometimes about each others woes, they secretly love each other, but life has somehow tainted their love and they're still holding on. I think they're still figuring it out...because in marriage you're not always with the person that you married so many years ago. Life is not static but is forever changing, just as two individuals are forever changing in a marital union. Marriage isn't about love alone but encompasses so much more one of those factors being tolerance.
So I write this with the hopes that my parents will continue to tolerate each other on their 24th year together and many years to come that they will find their way back to the love that is characteristic of the many photographs of them together before the arrival of my brothers and I.
To my parents,
Arthur and Mireille Edouard
With Love
I enjoyed reading this Packy. It reminds me of the "love" my parents have carried over into 27 years! Tolerance is a major factor in the survival of a marriage. In the minds of my parents, they still live in their own little world ( the days when divorces were frowned upon for so many other reasons that have now been placed in the archives...). Like you, I don't desire to have a replica of my parents love but I do hope to have the patience and determination I witnessed throughout the years from the both of them... there's something aout the longevity of their companionship that's always been authentic to me
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