THE WAIT

TO MY ANTONIOS

 

How do I love thee, my Antonio? I must tell you honestly that for months it was sporadically. I vomited, wretched out my guts, ate plain crackers all day and you had no idea that I wanted to die. And  now you are here, my little precious son, and my stomach still churns, my heart races and a warmth comes over me, fills my soul when I look at you.  My belly gurgles with delight. What a beautiful tan face you have. Your skin makes me think of olives growing in the sun. Your black shiny eyes can already follow my finger and I know you are going to become a genius some day. When you burp, spit up your milk, I do not smell its sourness. I wipe your precious face and believe you are smiling to me. Look, look at me, my treasure. I inhale the smell of you, wash and powder and hug you softly.

 

Some day soon, you will feel strong hands lift you high in the air, maybe spin you around, hold you close to his body, carefully not letting his brass buttons hurt you. You will love your daddy, Antonio, just as I do. We will wait together, here in our small apartment. If you hear a loud knock at the door, know it is your Daddy. Cry, make noise, I will fly to get you, race to the door and wait for but a second until Antonio Sr. hugs and kisses both of us. Can you picture this my little son?

 

No, you cannot but let me draw a picture for you as I see him. He is six feet tall. His back is straight, his muscles bulge from his dress uniform. His feet from so much marching are almost flat. And when he holds me close, those muscles bulge, hard as rocks. His last letter mentioned that he has received new special, comfortable shoes from his captain. Antonio, your daddy always asks me how much you have grown, if I show you pictures of him. Daddy used to have a mustache but not any more. And what a dancer he was, is! What fun we had together. And smart? My heavens he is smart and I can already see you will be too. Are you hungry, my little Antonio? I will fix your Pablum and give you a new treat today. I bought you some Gerber baby fruit. You are going to love it. Stay in your playpen. Someone is at the door. I'll be right back, my Precious.

 

At the second knock, I call out, 'Wait a second, I'm coming.' I open it and cannot believe what I see. 'Antonio, Antonio, my god, Antonio. I throw myself on him, hold him so close neither of us can breathe. A deep, strange voice pierces my ears and I pull back, look at Antonio and it is not my love. It is a stranger in uniform with an envelope for me. I cannot take it from his hand. But wait, he is smiling. That is not what officers giving bad news do. He tells me to read the message in private if I like. I tear open the envelope and scan it in a second.

 

I cannot help myself and start to cry. 'Antonio, Antonio,  you are on your way back to the States and will arrive Saturday.' My joy runneth over. 'Thank you, thank you,' I repeat to the messenger again and again.

 

Then he grabs me, gives me a huge, strong hug and thanks me for the one I gave him. 'Wish I had somebody like you waiting for me, Miss.' He salutes me and drives away...and I must wait two more days to introduce my Antonio Jr. to Antonio Sr.

 

In the meantime, I'll treat Jr. To Gerber's strained peaches.