Jago has taken to calling me Aunt Ta-ta. He gives me wet kisses and tight hugs and sits on my lap when I visit, patting me and smiling like he’s just so pleased that I am there to see him. He looks at his mother and then looks at me and with a smile, points and says, Aunt Ta-ta. And when I leave at the end of my visit, he’ll cry when I put him down and then ignores me in an attempt to get me to take him in my arms again. And when I hear him crying as the door shuts behind me, it breaks my heart in half.

 



 

Last year when I was New Orleans and had my palms and cards read, the fortune teller told me that I would have one son but that I would also become very close to another child who would mean just as much to me as my own child. She didn’t know if it was a stepson, or a grandson or a godchild, but she definitely saw the impact that he would have on my life. I’m convinced now that the child she was seeing was Jago. 

 

 

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s