Collage by Sybil Taylor

After his parents and my mother’s parents met, they got married. He wrote lovely letters to her. He married her with his army uniform on. They exchanged vows and placed rings on each other’s fingers. With an “I do” they were pronounced man and wife. My mother had a beautiful white dress on with a flower and a beautiful white bow and curls in her hair. They had their first dance — everyone watched while they danced and kissed. They were married 55 years. He took her to the movies and to dinner. He took her to see the Beatles, the Temptations, Four Tops, Mary Wells, Frankie Lymon, and the Teenagers. They were high school sweethearts ready for true love and marriage. Listening to the sound of Motown, strolling down the halls of Cardoza, holding hands. My father was good to my mother before and after marriage. They moved in with her mom and dad until they got their own place. My mother soon got pregnant and had my brother, then my sister. I was the third, and then my youngest sister. My parents had us seasonally!

What a joy to have kids. My parents were happy and proud. They were great parents. They put us through school, packed our lunches, helped us with homework, read bedtime stories, played games with us, and took us downtown. Together we celebrated all holidays. Christmas and Easter were always great. My father cleaned the snow and planted a garden with the best tomatoes, onions, lettuce, and flowers. He stayed busy doing taxes, writing, keeping the groceries stocked, and keeping the house together. He was a good father who stayed on top of his game. He kept jobs. He was an express separator for REA Express, a supervisor, an accountant at the Bureau of Engraving. He went to college at Howard University. He was a staff sergeant in the army. He was good at everything he did.

The End