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21 July 2018

I was sitting in my favorite chair, with my 4 year old grandson crawled onto my lap. For some random reason, I pulled his hand into mine, and laid it next to mine. I said, “Dzo (pronounced Joe), your skin has such a beautiful color, you are a black little boy”. He said to me “No, I am not!”. Okay.

He was in a quiet mood, so I went to get my “Obama” book of photographs. This is a large “coffee table” book of photographs of Obama in office by Pete Souza. I started turning the pages, and on each one I said “this is Obama”. And I said “your mommy is white, and your daddy is black, just like Obama”. The next challenge as I turned the pages was “Dzo, find Obama in this photograph”.

He kept turning pages. Each picture showed our ex-president Barrack Obama in a different situation. Dzo poked his figure correctly on Obama each time. Obama with his daughters. With his wife. Dancing. Enjoying music. Playing with kids in costumes. Playing with any kids at all. Walking with their dog. Covering his face with the horror of another terrorist or school shooting attack. Working with diplomats. Worrying about some terrible world situation in the Oval Office. Playing basketball. Speaking in front of crowds.

I had to leave the room to attend to my other grandchild. I came back, and Dzo was still carefully paging through my book.

I miss having a president like Obama. I cling to my grandson, loving his essence.

Dzo cooking