To Kiss a Grown-up Man

Héctor E. Colón-Rodríguez
©2919.8.17

It was perhaps 1981, or later, that we, Omi, his Mom and I- went to a fishing cottage near Cabo Rojo Lighthouse. I probably was around 22, Betsy 21 and Omi -the man- was our baby-toddler.

The house is still (2019) located before the bridge to Los Morrillos Peninsula, and it is distinguished by rows of “carruchos” that lead to the humble cottage at the calm shore.

This outing was intended for the family to eat “empanadillas de carrucho” or “chapín”, and also buy some exotic shells for my then shell collection.

But one strange event stuck me: I saw an old man kissing another grown-up young man in his cheek! It was strange because my father and “tios” never kissed a man, not even sons or daughters, they kissed only babies. And that fisherman was kissing his son after returning from the sea!

At that precise moment I realized, that for the rest of my life, I was going to kiss my kid, my man, even when he became a grown-up adult.

Now “my” Omi is 39 years old, and I just kissed him this past 25th of July 2019 in Buffalo, NY.

I still love this guy very much, the first man that I ever kissed, and will be kissed as long as I live! He is my first son.*

__________

*Omi, later had a brother and a sister, also much loved and kissed!