"Time, and Again"

If I had a Time Machine I'd go back to the Summer of 1962. 

'...August 18th 1962 Brooklyn, President Street. I ring the bell my mother opens the door. 56 years separate us, but she knows who I am. I spend an afternoon,...home. 

I'm careful not to disturb the time stream so tell her little of the future. Well other than we had, past tense for me, a Negro President. That, and we have or will have robots driving around Mars.

She's not surprised.

I'm introduced to my sisters, and brother, still children, as a distant cousin of hers. I'm not there. I chose or again will chose a time I'm not there. My dad is at work. 
I help her make dinner. She tells me of an upcoming wedding. One which for me is 56 years old, and with great grand children.

I tell my mother I never married. She said she didn't think I would. She told me she knows I'm "different". We laugh.