Collage 23

Boyhood summer sure is fun

Gotta hang out under the sun

Cuddle inside reading books

Make fashion statements and flaunt good looks

It helps to be Mama’s son

Her energetic zeal I inherited

Even my dada was infected

Action lovers need not be disappointed

She let me handle plastic bugs

Touch her big belly and give her hugs

Go to exotic places near and far

Drive Dada in a cool swift race car

She braided my long curly hair

Applied a dragon tattoo for the flair

Pulled sunglasses over my eyes

Took a photo of us flashing her winning smile

She loves to throw me into a pool

Let me immerse in the water blue and cool

She doesn’t mind when I slow

To look at a turtle or watch a show

We called my bà ngoại from far away

To join us in the fun of Magic Kingdom days

We enjoyed all minutes of our stays

Memories made to keep in our hearts always

I am a lucky boy I know

To have good things around me so

From friends to cousins to teachers to family

I wish you many summers that make you happy 

100-word snippet of 1982

August. Hot. Friday the thirteenth. Unemployed. Homeless. The phone was cut off. My water broke at dawn. Daunting. She was a mere 4-pound-12-ounce baby at 17.5 inches long, making her presence known before noon, six weeks before scheduled. Her father embarked solo on a cross-country drive we meant to take together. She and I remained. The hospital kept her longer under lights. Her grandparents took us to their home and cared for us until we were ready to rejoin her father. We flew to Chicago. Her uncle exclaimed, “She’s so tiny.” Hush, I thought. She was, in my eyes, perfect.