Dreams from My Father (Adapted for Young Adults) Page 25

  Michelle’s father, as good and decent a man as I’ve ever known, died before we were married. Gramps died of prostate cancer a few months later. As a World War II veteran, he was buried at Punchbowl National Cemetery on a hill overlooking Honolulu. It was a small ceremony with a few of his bridge and golf partners in attendance, a three-gun salute, and a bugle playing taps.

  Despite these heartaches, Michelle and I decided to go ahead with our wedding plans. The service took place in the sanctuary of Trinity United Church of Christ. Everyone looked very fine at the reception, my new aunts admiring the cake, my new uncles admiring themselves in their rented tuxedos. My organizing friend Johnnie was there, sharing a laugh with some of my old friends from Hawaii. So were Angela, Shirley, and Mona, who told my mother what a fine job she’d done raising me. (“You don’t know the half of it,” my mother replied with a laugh.)

  I looked at my baby sister, Maya, and saw a full-grown woman, beautiful and wise and looking like a Latin countess with her olive skin and long black hair and black bridesmaid’s gown. Auma was standing beside her, looking just as lovely, although her eyes were a little puffy—to my surprise she was the only one who cried during the ceremony.

  When the band started to play, the two of them sought out Michelle’s five- and six-year-old cousins, who had been our ring-bearers. Watching the boys lead my sisters out onto the dance floor, I thought they looked like young African princes in their little kente-cloth caps and matching cummerbunds and wilted bow ties.

  The person who made me proudest of all, though, was Roy. Actually, now we call him Abongo, his Luo name, for two years ago he decided to embrace his African heritage. He converted to Islam, and no longer drank or smoked. He still worked at his accounting firm, but talked about moving back to Kenya once he had enough money. In fact, when we saw each other last in Home Squared, he was busy building a hut for himself and his mother, away from our grandfather’s compound. He told me that he had moved forward with his import business and hoped it would soon pay enough to employ Bernard and Abo full-time. And when we went together to stand by the Old Man’s grave, I noticed there was finally a plaque where the bare cement had been.

  Abongo’s new lifestyle has left him lean and clear-eyed, and at the wedding, he looked so dignified in his black African gown with white trim and matching cap that some of our guests thought he might be my father. He was certainly an older brother that day, talking me through my nerves, patiently telling me for the fifth and sixth time that yes, he still had the wedding ring, and that if I spent any more time in front of the mirror it wouldn’t matter how I looked because we were sure to be late.

  Toward the end of the wedding, I watched him grinning widely for the video camera, his long arms draped over the shoulders of my mother and Toot, whose heads barely reached the height of his chest. “Eh, brother,” he said to me as I walked up to the three of them. “It looks like I have two new mothers now.” Toot patted him on the back. “And we have a new son,” she said, although when she tried to say “Abongo” her Kansas tongue mangled it hopelessly. My mother’s chin started to tremble like it does when she’s about to cry, and Abongo lifted up his glass of fruit punch for a toast.

  “To those who are not here with us,” he said.

  “And to a happy ending,” I said.

  We dribbled our drinks onto the checkered-tile floor. And for that moment, at least, I felt like the luckiest man alive.

  POSTSCRIPT

  July 2004

  Most of the characters in this book—some of whose names have been changed to protect their privacy—are still a part of my life.

  The exception is my mother, who died of cancer in 1995, a few months after Dreams from My Father was first published. She handled her illness with grace and good humor, and she helped my sister Maya and me push on with our lives, in spite of how much we dreaded losing her.

  She had spent the ten years before that doing what she loved. She traveled the world, working in distant villages of Africa and Asia, helping women buy a sewing machine or a milk cow or an education. She gathered friends from high and low, took long walks, and stared at the moon. She wrote reports, read novels, pestered her children, and dreamed of grandchildren.

  We saw each other often, our bond unbroken. As I wrote this book, she read the drafts, correcting stories that I had misunderstood. She was careful not to comment on the passages about her but quick to defend my father if she felt I was being too harsh.

  Sometimes I think that if I had known she would not live much longer, I might have written a different book—less a meditation on my absent parent, and more a celebration of the one who was the single constant in my life. In my daughters I see her every day, her joy, her capacity for wonder. I won’t try to describe how deeply I still mourn her passing. I know that she was the kindest, most generous spirit I have ever known, and that what is best in me I owe to her.

  PHOTOGRAPH CREDITS

  INSERT

  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11All photographs courtesy of the Obama-Robinson Family Archive

  12Laura S. L. Kong / Getty Images

  13Lisa Jack / Getty Images

  14, 15, 16Courtesy of the Obama-Robinson Family Archive

  17Joe Wrinn / Getty Images

  18(top) ©Ins News/Shutterstock; (bottom) Courtesy of the Obama-Robinson Family Archive

  19, 20All photographs courtesy of the Obama-Robinson Family Archive

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I am grateful to Rachel Klayman, my longtime editor at Crown, for taking the original, much lengthier version of this book and deftly adapting it for younger readers.

  At Crown, I’d also like to thank David Drake, who ably orchestrated the publication of this edition, and Chris Brand, who reenvisioned the book’s cover for a new audience. Madison Jacobs and Lydia Morgan energetically tracked every detail and kept the project moving forward. Special thanks to Barbara Bachman at Random House and to freelancer Renee Harleston.

  As always, I am lucky to have the hard work and steady support of my staff, notably Anita Decker Breckenridge, who thoughtfully managed every step of the process.

  I am also indebted to Sara Corbett, who read the adaptation with her customary care and sharp editorial mind, making many helpful suggestions.

  This edition would not be possible without the entire team at Delacorte Press/Random House Children’s Books, especially publisher Beverly Horowitz. Thanks also to John Adamo, Dominique Cimina, Denise DeGennaro, Colleen Fellingham, Felicia Frazier, Rebecca Gudelis, Emily Harburg, Judith Haut, Erica Henegan, Noreen Herits, Tracy Heydweiller, Alison Kolani, Barbara Marcus, Stephanie Moss, Linda Palladino, Tamar Schwartz, Jinna Shin, Tim Terhune, and April Ward, as well as the marketing, publicity, sales, and foreign and subsidiary rights groups.

  Finally, I would like to thank my family for the years of love, support, and learning they’ve provided me since this book was originally published. It’s because of them that I will always feel young.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Barack Obama was the 44th president of the United States, elected in November 2008 and holding office for two terms. He is the author of the New York Times bestsellers A Promised Land, Dreams from My Father, and The Audacity of Hope, and is the recipient of the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize. He lives in Washington, D.C., with his wife, Michelle. They have two daughters, Malia and Sasha.

  THE OBAMA FAMILY TREE, DESCRIPTION

  Opiyo is the parent of Obama, the great grandfather of President Barack Obama.

  Obama marries Nyaoke. They give birth to Hussein Onyango Obama (c. 1895—1979), the grandfather of President Barack Obama.

  Helima is Hussein Onyango Obama’s first wife. They have no children.

  Hussein marries Habiba Akumu Obama (c. 1918—2006). They give birth to Barack Obama Sr. (1936—1982), the father of President Barack Obama, Sara Nyaoke (b. 1933), and Hawa Auma (1942
—2014).

  Habiba Akumu Obama later marries Salmin Orinda.

  Hussein Onyango Obama later marries Sarah Ogwel Onyango Obama (1922—2021). They give birth to Omar Okech Obama (b. 1944), Sayid Obama, and Zeituni Onyango (1952—2014).

  Leona Belle McCurry (1897—1968) marries Rolla Charles Payne (1892—1968). They give birth to Jon V. Payne (b. c. 1937), Margaret Arlene Payne (1927—2014), Charles Thomas Payne (1925—2014), and Madelyn Lee Payne Dunham (1922—2008).

  Ruth Lucille Armour (1900—1926) marries Ralph Waldo Emerson Dunham Sr. (1894—1970). They give birth to Stanley Armour Dunham (1918—1992), Ralph Dunham (1916—2012), and Eleanor Belle Dunham Berkebile (1932—2003).

  Madelyn Lee Payne Dunham marries Stanley Armour Dunham. They give birth to Stanley Ann Dunham (1942—1995), the mother of President Barack Obama.

  Maurice Joseph Backer marries Ida Baker. They give birth to Ruth (Baker) Ndesandjo (b. 1936).

  Barack Obama Sr. marries Grace Kezia Aoko. They give birth to Abon’go Malik “Roy” Obama (b. 1958), Rita Auma Obama (b. 1960), Abo (b. 1968), and Bernard (b. 1970).

  Jane (“Aunt Jane”) is Kezia’s sister.

  Stanley Ann Dunham marries Barack Obama Sr. They give birth to President Barack Hussein Obama II (b. 1961).

  Barack Obama Sr. later marries Ruth (Baker) Ndesandjo. They give birth to Mark Okoth Obama Ndesandjo (b. 1965) and David Ndesandjo (c. 1967—c. 1987).

  Barack Obama Sr. and Jael Otieno give birth to George Hussein Onyango Obama (b. c. 1982).

  Stanley Ann Dunham later marries Lolo Soetoro (1935—1987). They give birth to Maya Kassandra Soetoro-Ng (b. 1970).

  Lolo Soetoro later marries Erna Kustina.

  Maya Kassandra Soetoro-Ng marries Konrad Ng (b. 1974).

  President Barack Hussein Obama II marries Michelle LaVaughn Robinson Obama (b. 1964). They give birth to Malia Ann (b. 1998) and Natasha “Sasha” Marian (b. 2001).

  For a visual representation of this information, go to this location.