during one of her last lucid moments,
oka-san told me you were never
meant to be a wife but were chosen
by the gods to be a loyal daughter
and loving mother. i didn't know what
she meant until i watched you care for
her as first her mind it wandered from
her, and then her body, tired and frail,
and you loving her always -- not simply
when it was convenient. no, love was
never simply convenient for you, a
sudden courtesy or whim.
and when i watched you with shi-hwa,
i was jealous. because i could
never make a child laugh like that
or even hug my neck and smile.
it rained the day you left new york.
and shi-hwa fell asleep by the gate,
waiting for you to hold her in your
arms and sing to her -- just like
you used to do -- when you were
well and beautiful,
and we -- we were both in love.
