July 11, 2009 - Carlos and I celebrated fifteen years married. And my mother celebrated her (72nd? 73rd? 74th?) birthday in their Naples, Florida home by making dinner for ten people.
Celebrate is a stretch of a word. Carlos and I planned to see the play Jamaica, Farewell and then go to the after-play reception at the home of the play´s producer and my good friend, Jody. Out without the kids! But Carlos went to the Hyder House and did a million massages late in the day, and had to cancel the play (not regretfully, I suspect). So I took the kids to the play, and we sent some text messages to each other around 10 pm. You are thinking, "I love you honey. I´m glad I´m married to you." It was, "Aqui, con Jody."
"Cansado. A la casa."
On the way home, Carlos ran into his brother, Hector, and wife, Maribel and wouldn´t you know...they ended up going for a beer at Mama Mia. We grunted at each other when he rolled into bed about 1 am.
July 11, 1994 -
My parents speak no Spanish and are wonderously overdressed. Not really, but I have NEVER seen anyone wear a beautiful summer-wool suit in San Miguel. But that´s my father. Handsome as ever, walking me down the aisle with all the Go, Get-em vibe he can transfer to me with his smile. Even though I´m pregnant and marrying a guy without a high school degree or a job.
Then there are my in-laws - my father-in-law pulling at a borrowed sports jacket, my mother-in-law, pretty in a champagne colored dress that she unfortunately has to cover with a jacket because the zipper up the back suddenly broke. Clutching hands with my mom because neither speaks the other´s language. The wedding is detailed in my memoir, Fast Break South, which is presently seeking representation.