The equation of a miracle
Mom, you have no more the breast that you had and that I loved so much. The left breast because at a time I could listened to your heart and, forgive me, I was using it as a pillow and a feeding bottle. I know it hurts you a lot but you know your breast in my head and into my mouth and I do not forget. How do say they it again? ... it's part of my DNA.
Dad would like to have breasts to give them to me when I start screaming, crying because you're not there. I see him busy, call the doctor thinking that I still have one of the childhood diseases. I cry and I enjoy both because it pricks me to give me reminders of vaccine. All this irritates me because they do not understand. My illness is you, Mom. My disease is your absence, Mom. My illness, it is your tenderness disappearing. My illness is that I want to hear you and see you suffer to soothe away your pain.
I told God that if I was born, when everything was against me, let me keep my mother as long as possible. Why? "Because," I said, "you're not going anyway to discredit your own miracle." I was born because no one was expecting me to come to this world. The odds were against me. There were , it seems, cells fighting , hormones that could not coexist, all gave excruciating pain in mom’s body. I have fun because they do not understand. I am a child but a product of faith and love. This is the equation of the miracle. Godfather makes me laugh. He lights candles everywhere. He prays in all languages. He reads so many books that I wonder why his head is as full as well done. And when he speaks american english, I feel that he is the Obama’s older brother. Yes, Barrack!. By the way, Mom, he has pretty daughters. Please send an email to Michele. Michele, who is she? Mom! How you don’r Michele Obama! I see she has no son. Can you tell her I'm willing to spend a few days during the summer holidays with her ... if Barrack leaves her alone. I know Barrack ... Do not be angry, Michele, she will invite you with Dad. She knows how to do things well.
And then there's godfather ... he will advise Barrack on Blacks. My godfather is an international black man. The guy, while he cooks, he's talking about Jesus Christ, Buddha, Muhammad, and he tells you that you have perhaps Chinese ancestry. It is a story of Yin and Yang. Nana has managed to go to college. So Godfather has turned into zen-like father. The latter heard me crying and apparently he did not know where to turn to but he went around with much confidence. His blood pressure is under control ... anyway, he has machines and robots that care everything in the house.
I know I want the breast I want but if I say it, you will start to cry and suffer. Mom, your cancer took away only one breast. I no longer need it and dad will have to do without it. I hear you and I see you laughing with dad and… godfather taking pictures ... even when sleeping. All this is miraculous.
PS: By the way, Mom, I saw a lady on Godfather’s computer.She is pretty ...
- What! Your godfather’s computer! Do not touch it!!!
-Mom, calm down, Dad and Goldfather told me that I could play with the mouse. Why do you play cat! ...
- The name of the lady?
-It begins with love! Ah ah ah!
-Dressed up or as if she was going to swim?
-She have nice breasts but I don’t like them. The chick ... is nice and she even promised to take me to the circus.
- By the way, please tell the cancer that the trash truck is coming by the house tonight!
© 2011 Alex J. URI the equation of a miracle
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