David's first Christmas

December 25, 1981.  Me and David were together since September and I brought him home for Christmas at our house in Tulare.  It was scary, first of all, he had never gone out with a girl who had a dad living in the home, so it would be the first time he would meet any father.  He was born and raised in a northeast neighborhood (Highland Park) in L.A., where most homes were single-parent homes, including his own.  I was nervous, but he was scared.  Gabe picked us up from Greyhound and took us home to the Auburn St. house.  It's Christmas Eve and we had aunts and uncles over from both sides.  Uncle Johnny, Aunt Pauline, Uncle Jessie, Uncle Stephen, Uncle Michael, Uncle Johnny (Torrance), Uncle Ruben, Aunt Patty, and some more I don't remember.  I walked in and daddy came right over, shook his hand, introduced himself, and introduced him to everyone else.  I knew things would be o.k., daddy looked sometimes intimidating, but was always welcoming and most times did not predetermine or pre-judge you.  It was usually a wait and see.  At the end, Daddy had become the father David never had and David most admired that daddy never judged him but accepted him with all his characteristics; good or bad. He misses daddy and his funny fix-its and philosophies.