Back-em-ups

A two-for-one-father

Back-em-ups

I was standing near the corner of 84^th Street and Broadway, waiting.  It was a gray and blustery, November day and rain was beginning fall, so I was feeling a little chilled inside and out.  Why was I waiting?  That seemed to be the question of the day, in the moment, because of the cold drizzle and biting wind.

Then, I watched as a little boy with black, curly hair crossed the street hand-in-hand with his father.  My spirit was lifted at the sight, especially when the boy, about ten years old, came right up, as if he already knew me, and wrapped his arms around me in a warm greeting.  It was a reminder that even when it’s cold and damp, there is always the promise of a coming warmer, brighter day.  The juxtaposition of the warm greeting on a cold day gave me a little pause.  And, perhaps my pause lingered a little longer, because there was more than one little boy there.  There were two!

We were on that particular street corner because it was the prearranged spot to meet our friend Hector Dominguez’s son for the first time.  I was excited for the chance, but I was a little confused when there were two little boys and both of them were referring to Hector as “Dad.” 

“Receiving a loving embrace from one more is a welcome surprise!”  I said to myself as we exchanged some small gifts.

Yet, perhaps the greatest gift received on that day was the additional information learned about Hector.  You see, as it turns out, the second little boy is not Hector’s son at all.  He is Hector’s ex-wife’s son and the half-brother to his son.  Both boys live, most of the time, with their mother and are inseparable brothers.  And, to Hector’s credit, he embraces them both as sons.

We embraced again on another, not too far distant day.  A day met in Hectors warm and inviting home in Astoria, NY.  We were preparing for Christmas.  That’s when more of Hector’s story unfolded.  That’s when I learned that not only was Hector a two-for-one-father.  His mother and father have also chosen to be two-for-one-grandparents.  I call them, “Back-em-ups!”

Back-em-ups are people who love others, just because they have the opportunity and they can.  They’re people who offer unconditional care and love to potential, often unnoticed, “refugees” that live right in front of us and are too often invisible to many.  They give of themselves freely.

They had also given freely, unconditionally to me.  Yet, the sky was darkening, and I wanted to catch a train back to Manhattan, before it was too late in the evening.  So, we were all together near the corner of 29^th Street and 21^st Ave., walking toward the train platform.  It was again, gray and blustery, on a late November day.  It felt as if it was beginning to snow and I felt a little chilled inside and out.  We walked forward, talking, the two little boys, with thick black hair and two of their Back-em-ups.  Our spirts continued to be lifted because of the interaction, especially when the boys, both younger than ten-years-of-age, wrapped their arms around me in a warm farewell.  It was enough to warm my insides clear through, even in the outside cold.

Their innocent warmth filled me with an assurance that really warm, bright days were ahead.  The juxtaposition of the warm farewell, on a cold evening, gave me a little pause as I looked out of the train’s window with a broad smile and a wave of goodbye to the boys and their accompanying Back-em-ups!

“I can be a better Back-em-up!”  I said to myself, as the Manhattan-bound-train whisked me forward toward a life filled with the promise of giving and receiving more love.