The story of me and how they came to be

 “The day he kissed me I-,” I paused. I contemplated finishing my story before I even started it. The tiny, bright and smiling faces of the children sat in front of me. I decided they needed to know the story. The story of me and how they came to be.

       I took a deep breath and dug into the memories that walk the silent corridors of my heart late at night, when all is still and only the trees and the rain make a sound. I close my eyes and I am laying in my backyard with Milton, I am 16 again.

    “The day Milton, your father, kissed me for the first time; everything was still. I had forgotten how to breathe for the 3 seconds his lips were on mine, it was almost like the fairytales I read you before bed.” They stared up at me, wonder filling their small, bright eyes. I took another breath and continued.

       “We lay on our backs, watching the stars. It was 3 a.m. on September the 2nd of 2002. We were friends for so many years before that, our moms have been friends since girlhood.” My daughter Autumn looked at me and raised her hand, as if she was at school. “Mommy? Did you love dad when you were looking at the stars?” Her question somewhat shocked me, she was so small, so fragile, barely out of preschool, yet she knew love. What a complex emotion.

          “Well, Autumn. I did. I loved your dad for long before that too. I loved him when we were playing soccer in his backyard, or when we were walking to our lockers in the hallways. I loved him when he would shine his flashlight across the street to my bedroom window at 2 a.m. when none of us could sleep. I loved your dad long before I loved myself.” The youngling looked back up at me, content and awestruck. I continued.

     “We talked about many things that night. We talked about life and we talked about love. At some point that night, I got tired and I went to get up and go to my bedroom, when your dad grabbed my arm, gripping it tightly. I winced at the slight pain of his fingers digging into my skin.”

       I rubbed my upper left arm, my fingers slowly brush over the spots where the 4 bruises once lay all those years ago. My eyes closed and for a second I saw the stars and I saw his face. Olive skin, brown hair with brown eyes that have specks of gold in them when he looks towards the full moon. I saw the boy I was ever so slowly falling in love for all over again.

       “Mommy, keep telling us!” My son, Calvin begged me. I opened my eyes and I was back in reality.

   “He looked at me, at the confusion and love in my eyes and I saw the same in him. Within a second, his lips were on mine. I didn’t breathe, I didn’t pull away, I stayed in that moment with him for as long as he would let me. My world was spinning, it was collapsing but becoming so full of color at the same time. Mil- your dad, my best friend, the boy I had for so long wished to call mine, had just done the thing I thought would never happen.” Tears started to fill my eyes and threaten to break over the threshold onto the rosy cheeks below. I didn’t let them.

          “He was the one to break the moment, I wish he didn’t. Once I got home, I cried into my pillow for the rest of the night. Not just for your dad, but for what I had and hadn’t done. I was so in love with him. I loved the way his smile gave me butterflies, I loved the way his eyes looked at me and were filled with love and compassion when I was sad, I loved the way he was unapologetically him. I cried at how in love I was and how I could not do anything about it.” 

     These small children were so consumed in the story of them. They didn’t care if they knew what the words meant or if it was weird and gross. They wanted their story. 

    “I had you guys when I was 17 years old. I had just graduated from high school when I found out I was holding a little baby girl and a little baby boy in my tummy. Your dad was 18 at the time, and he was just as excited as I was.”

         I didn’t want to tell them what came next. The pain and the tragedy, but the happiness and the wonder. 

     “On August 8th, your dad was driving back from picking up a snack for me. It was raining and I told him he didn’t have to go but he did anyway. Once I got the knock at the front door, and walked down the stairs 7 months pregnant, I knew he was gone. The boy I was in love with, the boy I was going to make a father, the boy I grew up with and fell so helplessly for without realizing it. He left me alone.”

            My mind wandered back to the night in the backyard with the stars, it wandered back to playing soccer at the school, it wandered to skateboarding down the road with Nerf guns shooting at each other without a care in the world. 

     “Your dad loved you guys very much, you both need to know that.”

         We heard thunder, Autumn and Calvin clung to my side as we walked back to the car. 

  “Say bye to dad guys.” I smiled and blew a kiss towards the dusty headstone, the children followed.

       “Bye daddy! We love you!” Their cheery voices rang out. I turned towards the road and smiled. I was so young and so naive, I loved without a cause and did it without regrets. 

     The story of me, and how they came to be, was finally complete. The memories were no longer in the silent corridors of my heart, they were now in the leaves of the trees rustling in the wind, they were now in the drops of rain falling from the sky, they were now in my children's laughter and in the dreams they have. 

       I drove down the quiet road, and it began to pour.