amarie24

And this white boy would grab my hand as soon as my mama dropped me off and played with me like nothing else. He’d grab my hand to push me on the swings; play on the colorful rug with me; read books with me; and even shove to the front of the line during snack times to make sure I got the biggest cupcake, cookie, etc.

I…wouldn’t even remember him if Mama didn’t still have pictures from that time. Just this white boy always holding my hand and smiling with me, and who I never saw again after the daycare days were over.

Now I was literally just dreaming about meeting him again last night…

…And Mama called me just an hour ago to tell me that she bumped into him in the clinic where she works be he brought in his grandfather to be seen. She told me she just started to recognize the shape of his face, that curly hair, freckles, bright blue eyes, etc., and asked him if his name was, well…his name.

And it was. And he remembers me-apparently once he knew who my mother was, I was literally the first thing he asked after. I can’t remember him without pictures, but he remembers me absolutely no problem.

It’s been…gracious, more than 20 years (we’re the same age!), but he still remembers me just fine on his own.

Mama said he wants my email address so we can talk again and, I guess…catch up on ABCs, 123s, etc., haha.

And cutie mofo is tall as hell, still curly-haired as hell, and a Marine.