He told me she was a friend, and he was just looking out for her seven children. The truth changed my world
Josefina Gonzalez
SALON.COM - Tuesday, Mar 25, 2014
Growing up, I thought I was an only child. My parents were typical
Mexican immigrants, hardworking and poor by society’s standards, though
we always had enough. But one detail made my childhood different.
Every
few weeks, my dad took me on trips to visit some “friends.” There was a
lady my dad’s age and her four children, a number that eventually grew
to seven. I played with the kids while my father and the woman hung out.
My dad often reminded me I shouldn’t tell my mom about this. She was
very jealous.
Looking back, it’s all so obvious. They even called
my father “Dad,” though he was quick to explain he was only a “father
figure.” But I was a little girl, who believed what she was told. I
asked my dad once why he visited that woman so often, buying things for
the family and taking them to the grocery store. He told me he’d been in
the Vietnam War with her husband, and when he died, my father agreed to
help her raise her children. I guess it’s a good story, except for the
part where my father never served in Vietnam, and most of her kids were
born long after the war’s end.
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