I’m sure they were, and I’m not being sarcastic. I mean it.
It’s convenient though that love appears to be so color-centric.
Was your mother escaping poverty? Was she too unattractive to find a decent Asian male? If so, yes, it may very well be, and is love.
My mother wasn’t. She deliberately sought out a white male. There are millions of these women and they don’t merely just pass along through life and die; they create children.
I had the privilege of seeing exactly what happens when a woman seeking the All American Prince Charming and the White Picket Fence lifestyle got stuck with a balding office worker and an eight hundred square foot apartment nowhere near a subway line.
Love no longer became a delusion of mine. Pray tell me – assuming white dad was no longer able to provide mom with the fantasy of whiteness and American inclusion – would she still love him?
Mine didn’t. In fact, love wasn’t even there when they first met, and there wasn’t enough money to keep the “love” balloon inflated for more than a few years.