My Parent’s Room
by Annecy Baez
My parents’ room was small with the scent of camphor sticks andbay rum for my mother suffered from many ailments some realand others imaginary
Above one of the bureaus was my father’s precious altarwith a smiling Buddha and a porcelain statue of La Virgencita de laAltagracia who stood quietly in the silence with Jose lookingperplexed and staring at baby Jesus
I could swear La Virgencita knew my moves understood mythoughts in the center of the altar a candle remained lit all nightlong surrounded by faded sepia photographs of dead or lostrelatives and wrinkled prayers to heal old wounds
La Virgencita’s light brown eyes seemed real for they glittered inthe darkness while the candle below her flickered startled by mysight many times I thought I heard La Virgencita speak to meand stare at me with disapproving eyes
On those nights I dared to run through the hall of ghosts andpenetrate myself between the warmth of my parents to taste withmy senses the feel of my father on those nights I never dared tolook at La Virgencita’s eyes
Instead I stared at the floor or the profile of my father willing tokiss him and implore his forgiveness for the deep child-likelongings I had for him and on those nights I would quickly throwmyself in between my parents without forethought or strategy
Luckily my mother often stirred in her sleep and faced the walland I would feel such a relief and intense personal triumphas if I had secretly won some unknown battle against her.
Click to print:
Comentarios