Floodgates

The question releases a flood of memories.

In a flash she is 6 years old,  

playing “I see you!” at Grandma’s kitchen window;

She is 8 years old, helping Grandpa  

prime the garden pump;

She is 10 years old, waving them goodbye

out the car window as the wondrous summer ends;  

She is 14 years old, blocking another

hard slap from her mother's hand;

She is 23, gazing at newborn Laura,

asking herself "What do I do now?"

She is 30, forever amazed

at the easy gift of hugs from her children;

She is 42, wiping away  

a tear as her little girl flies off with the new recruits;

She is 51, reassuring, by long distance

Azores-stationed Laura’s fears of first-time childbirth.

Someone asked: “Are you close to your daughter?”

It is like the key that opens a floodgate,

She swallows hard,

once,

And again,

Until, in time,  

She utters a single word in response.

“Yes”  

Naida Lavon

Valentine’s Day 2010