Roy is. “Technique is tight like a mosquito’s booty!”
I smile as Pops starts laughing. I can see the life in him struggling to be revived, but Pops’s heart is broken, and has been for the past nineteen years. It’s hard for him to mask that.
“Well, why don’t you call Roy up and have him come? I’ll pay for it.”
“Pops, you know Roy and I weren’t even on the same page back in the day. He was a clown, you know that. Got me in trouble and you told me to quit hanging with him. He and I were never tight after that and I’ve been out of touch with him. Besides, you can do just as good a job on the piano.”
“Yeah, son, but … I just don’t know.” Pops rubs over his plumpbelly and looks blankly at the television. “It’s been so long, I probably won’t know my right hand from my left.”
I laugh a little as my pops quotes these lyrics from “Misty,” an old jazz favorite. It reminds me of a game he used to play with me and Shreese when we were growing up. He would say a line from a song and we would guess the song title. Now he looks over at me and starts laughing, too. He’s off the wall sometimes, but I love my old man. He stuck in there with us after Louise left, and I’m grateful to him for staying. Thank goodness they shared responsibilities when they were together—otherwise Shreese and I probably would have looked like throwaway kids. But Pops did Shreese’s hair, ironed our clothes, cooked, and also helped us with our homework every night. He already knew how to do other things that most men from his generation didn’t do without a woman.
The worst thing Pops had to get through was talking to Shreese about getting her period. It was horrible, because he made me sit in the room with him as he stumbled though his reading of the entire chapter of the
Time-Life Health Encyclopedia
on the female anatomy and menstruation.
“Did you ask your mother to perform?”
“I’m not inviting her,” I said. “I haven’t even called her and told her about the engagement.”
“Gregory Louis Alston, I didn’t raise you to hate your mother.”
“Pops, I don’t hate her. I just don’t want her at my wedding.”
“Why, Gregory?” Pops’s voice is almost pleading. “Give me one good reason why she doesn’t deserve to be included.”
“I just don’t want her there. She hasn’t been at any of my other major events and I don’t want her at this one.”
“Now, you know she calls whenever something big happens in your life and I make sure she knows. You never invited her to any of your graduations and to those fraternity parent events you had in college, like you did with me, but she always remembers you on your birthday and Christmas.”
“And do you think that’s been enough for me and Shreese all these years?”
“Has it?” Pops has a sad look on his face. “You’ve never reached out to her, so what are you expecting in return?”
“Pops, you know as well as I do that children need both parents. People just don’t walk out on their children like Louise did.”
“Son, you’d be surprised. I’ve seen a lot happen in my life, and what your mother did was follow her dreams. She loves singing and she pursued it.”
“So singing is more important than the children you bring into the world? She couldn’t take us with her? She couldn’t put her dreams off until we were grown?”
Pops leaned up in his chair and exhaled a deep breath. “What is it that you’re missing, Gregory, that I haven’t been able to give you? What is it that your mother’s absence has not afforded you?”
“Nothing.” I held my head down in defeat. I mean, how can a person know what he’s missing if he’s never had it? I just know there is something missing from my life because my mother wasn’t there.
I know it is
. Pops is right. He gave me and Shreese everything: love, support, discipline, and much attention. He came to the school when we had programs, he attended every band concert,
I smile as Pops starts laughing. I can see the life in him struggling to be revived, but Pops’s heart is broken, and has been for the past nineteen years. It’s hard for him to mask that.
“Well, why don’t you call Roy up and have him come? I’ll pay for it.”
“Pops, you know Roy and I weren’t even on the same page back in the day. He was a clown, you know that. Got me in trouble and you told me to quit hanging with him. He and I were never tight after that and I’ve been out of touch with him. Besides, you can do just as good a job on the piano.”
“Yeah, son, but … I just don’t know.” Pops rubs over his plumpbelly and looks blankly at the television. “It’s been so long, I probably won’t know my right hand from my left.”
I laugh a little as my pops quotes these lyrics from “Misty,” an old jazz favorite. It reminds me of a game he used to play with me and Shreese when we were growing up. He would say a line from a song and we would guess the song title. Now he looks over at me and starts laughing, too. He’s off the wall sometimes, but I love my old man. He stuck in there with us after Louise left, and I’m grateful to him for staying. Thank goodness they shared responsibilities when they were together—otherwise Shreese and I probably would have looked like throwaway kids. But Pops did Shreese’s hair, ironed our clothes, cooked, and also helped us with our homework every night. He already knew how to do other things that most men from his generation didn’t do without a woman.
The worst thing Pops had to get through was talking to Shreese about getting her period. It was horrible, because he made me sit in the room with him as he stumbled though his reading of the entire chapter of the
Time-Life Health Encyclopedia
on the female anatomy and menstruation.
“Did you ask your mother to perform?”
“I’m not inviting her,” I said. “I haven’t even called her and told her about the engagement.”
“Gregory Louis Alston, I didn’t raise you to hate your mother.”
“Pops, I don’t hate her. I just don’t want her at my wedding.”
“Why, Gregory?” Pops’s voice is almost pleading. “Give me one good reason why she doesn’t deserve to be included.”
“I just don’t want her there. She hasn’t been at any of my other major events and I don’t want her at this one.”
“Now, you know she calls whenever something big happens in your life and I make sure she knows. You never invited her to any of your graduations and to those fraternity parent events you had in college, like you did with me, but she always remembers you on your birthday and Christmas.”
“And do you think that’s been enough for me and Shreese all these years?”
“Has it?” Pops has a sad look on his face. “You’ve never reached out to her, so what are you expecting in return?”
“Pops, you know as well as I do that children need both parents. People just don’t walk out on their children like Louise did.”
“Son, you’d be surprised. I’ve seen a lot happen in my life, and what your mother did was follow her dreams. She loves singing and she pursued it.”
“So singing is more important than the children you bring into the world? She couldn’t take us with her? She couldn’t put her dreams off until we were grown?”
Pops leaned up in his chair and exhaled a deep breath. “What is it that you’re missing, Gregory, that I haven’t been able to give you? What is it that your mother’s absence has not afforded you?”
“Nothing.” I held my head down in defeat. I mean, how can a person know what he’s missing if he’s never had it? I just know there is something missing from my life because my mother wasn’t there.
I know it is
. Pops is right. He gave me and Shreese everything: love, support, discipline, and much attention. He came to the school when we had programs, he attended every band concert,
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