What Happens When Cultures Collide?

A year after my father passed away from cancer my mother started to muse aloud about marriage and progeny. Not for herself though, for she was focused on finding a suitable woman for me, her beloved and only son.

Momma doesn’t want me to be left alone after she has passed on from this world — the prospect of her son being a single man after her death contributes to her sleepless nights. “My children are taking care of me and I am so grateful for the help,” she said one afternoon. I don’t know what I would do without my children helping me.”

I approached her, put my hands on both of her shoulders and said, “You don’t have to be grateful for anything. We don’t mind helping you at all momma.”

Momma stepped forward, her eyes misty. “I want the same thing for you. I want my son and daughters to have good children who will take care of them when they get old.”

“I know momma,” I said. “You know that I’m working on that, right?”

“It’s getting late, my dear.”

While rolling my eyes I said, “Yes, I am aware of my advancing age.”

“And there is something else,” my mom said before pausing. “I want grandchildren.”

Love, marriage, and children are what I’ve wanted for some years now. Not for the same exact same reasons as…