Tuesday, April 27, 2010

My Parent’s Love Story

Two people, ten kids,
the neighborhood gossips
impressed that they did “it” so often
but we knew they loved each other.

She had a hot meal prepared and
hand rolled tortillas ready
when he came home every night.

He had enough energy to play with the kids
and at night we would hear their laughter,
her high pitched giggle, his low rumble.

After everyone had gone to sleep
we dreamed of flying
sitting at the edge of their bed
and breathing in the smell
of Pond's cold cream and Palmolive soap.

She stood by him when he got sick
his hands burning with lime
cracked and oozing
no health insurance,
no disability payments,
a second on the house
and he getting back to work
before he was completely healed.

Working as a janitor at the church
no more plaster to get in his wounds.
She volunteered the kids as repayment
for the priest’s kindness.

They helped out families in the parish -
one with too many children
all of them out of control,
another where the mother seemed
to be sick all the time,
then there was the free spirit,
who we later learned was having an
affair with the assistant pastor.

They didn't gossip or complain
leaning on each other, trusting
the other would be there in good times
and in bad for all the days of their lives.

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