latest car and fashion magazines and marvel at how good the guys looked next to them. There were girls in the pictures too, but I never really noticed them. I paid it no mind then, but now I know that I was born the way I am. I was gay. I wondered if my mom and dad knew before I did and hoped it would go away. That is what I was here to find out.
“Nothing’s changed.” I looked at all the detached houses that had an array of colors and white picket fences, typical suburbia.
“Let’s do this!” I had to psyche myself into this. I just didn’t know what to expect.
I walked up the pathway toward the door and stood in front for several seconds rubbing my fingers on the inside of the palm of my hand nervously.
I finally pushed the doorbell. Hoping no one was home. Several seconds passed by; the wind had picked up and tossed my dreads around. I turned around with the excuse I was going to get my jacket that I had left in the car.
“Can I help you?” I heard a couple of steps down the walkway. I turned to see a woman standing in the doorway. My mother was still beautiful. She was noticeably older but she still didn’t look the seventy years old that she was. I hung my head low for a second. I was afraid to look back up.
“Wallace? ... Is that you?” Her voice trembled a little.
“Yes ... yes, ma’am. It’s me.” I said lifting my head back up and slowly walking back toward her. Everything in me was shaking as I tried to hold back the tears pushing to spill out.
“Oh my lord ... my baby... . You came back home.” Tears were rapidly falling out of her eyes and down her face. She held her arms open wide. “Where have you—? I can’t belie—oh ... my ... lordy. My baby’s home.” She squeezed me so tight that it was hard to breathe. I hugged her back just as hard as my tears of pain and anguish fell on her shoulder. It felt like I was ten all over again and I had passed a test in school or cooked something just like she would have. A mother’s hug was like water in the desert to a thirsty man. Going without it for too long was devastating.
I pulled back and looked at my mother. “Yes, Ma, I’m back.” My mother had picked up a little weight, but she still looked pretty. Madison or Madi as her friends called her was the apple of my eye as a child. I was still in love with her looks and how she looked at me right now.
“Ohhh ... Thank ya, Jesus ... Thank ya, Lord!” She praised God. “You brought my baby back home! ”
I just continued to look as she went on and praised God for a few more seconds. I remembered my momma being a spiritual woman as I grew up and church attendance was a regular part of our weekly regimen, even though most of the time my father would not be there with us.
“Look at you, all plump and stuff. I see you been eating good,” she said as she patted my stomach and squeezed my cheeks, causing me to blush. “Oh, and look at that hair of yours almost down to your bottom.” I blushed again and looked around to see if anyone saw me standing in the doorway with my momma in her robe, scarf, and curlers. I was a tad bit embarrassed.
“Wallace, baby. Come on in baby. Get in here!” She pulled me in by the arm and shut the door.
“Wallace, I’ll be right back.” She headed toward the stairs. “I need to check on your father.”
“Yes, ma’am, take your time.” I was still a little nervous. I had questions, but I knew she had some as well. I didn’t know if I was ready to answer any questions she had.
I stepped into the living room and was instantly transported back to my childhood. The house had not changed much at all. Well, she had a plasma television on the wall, which looked to be about thirty-two inches or so. The picture frames were now all digital, even the ones from when we were kids. I looked on the mantle and saw the picture of my brothers and wondered how their lives played out. It flashed in my head how I had blocked so much out once I left here and
“Nothing’s changed.” I looked at all the detached houses that had an array of colors and white picket fences, typical suburbia.
“Let’s do this!” I had to psyche myself into this. I just didn’t know what to expect.
I walked up the pathway toward the door and stood in front for several seconds rubbing my fingers on the inside of the palm of my hand nervously.
I finally pushed the doorbell. Hoping no one was home. Several seconds passed by; the wind had picked up and tossed my dreads around. I turned around with the excuse I was going to get my jacket that I had left in the car.
“Can I help you?” I heard a couple of steps down the walkway. I turned to see a woman standing in the doorway. My mother was still beautiful. She was noticeably older but she still didn’t look the seventy years old that she was. I hung my head low for a second. I was afraid to look back up.
“Wallace? ... Is that you?” Her voice trembled a little.
“Yes ... yes, ma’am. It’s me.” I said lifting my head back up and slowly walking back toward her. Everything in me was shaking as I tried to hold back the tears pushing to spill out.
“Oh my lord ... my baby... . You came back home.” Tears were rapidly falling out of her eyes and down her face. She held her arms open wide. “Where have you—? I can’t belie—oh ... my ... lordy. My baby’s home.” She squeezed me so tight that it was hard to breathe. I hugged her back just as hard as my tears of pain and anguish fell on her shoulder. It felt like I was ten all over again and I had passed a test in school or cooked something just like she would have. A mother’s hug was like water in the desert to a thirsty man. Going without it for too long was devastating.
I pulled back and looked at my mother. “Yes, Ma, I’m back.” My mother had picked up a little weight, but she still looked pretty. Madison or Madi as her friends called her was the apple of my eye as a child. I was still in love with her looks and how she looked at me right now.
“Ohhh ... Thank ya, Jesus ... Thank ya, Lord!” She praised God. “You brought my baby back home! ”
I just continued to look as she went on and praised God for a few more seconds. I remembered my momma being a spiritual woman as I grew up and church attendance was a regular part of our weekly regimen, even though most of the time my father would not be there with us.
“Look at you, all plump and stuff. I see you been eating good,” she said as she patted my stomach and squeezed my cheeks, causing me to blush. “Oh, and look at that hair of yours almost down to your bottom.” I blushed again and looked around to see if anyone saw me standing in the doorway with my momma in her robe, scarf, and curlers. I was a tad bit embarrassed.
“Wallace, baby. Come on in baby. Get in here!” She pulled me in by the arm and shut the door.
“Wallace, I’ll be right back.” She headed toward the stairs. “I need to check on your father.”
“Yes, ma’am, take your time.” I was still a little nervous. I had questions, but I knew she had some as well. I didn’t know if I was ready to answer any questions she had.
I stepped into the living room and was instantly transported back to my childhood. The house had not changed much at all. Well, she had a plasma television on the wall, which looked to be about thirty-two inches or so. The picture frames were now all digital, even the ones from when we were kids. I looked on the mantle and saw the picture of my brothers and wondered how their lives played out. It flashed in my head how I had blocked so much out once I left here and
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