Thursday 1967 – I was born. Big event. It was a good day for me.
Friday 1974 – I changed my name, found my strength, climbed a tree - looked out at the other trees, houses, roads leading into town.
Saturday 1980 – The day of the family reunion, soaked my white pants in blood. I changed the pants but the cramping didn’t wash out. Everyone was there but only she knew and raised, with a tight throat, a secret glass at my womanhood. Fertility was a strange idea to me.
Sunday 1982 – I wrote a profound poem. It would change everything. I would solve global suffering. I would make them cry in awe. The loose-leaf paper slipped out of the binder. It fell behind the couch.
Monday 1989 – The cashier said it was too hot to wear the pantyhose she put in my bag, but that’s what you do for the first day of work.
Monday to Sunday - Has it happened yet?
Tuesday 1991 – He looked as bewildered as me when we shook hands. We would hold hands for a long time. We are still holding hands.
Wednesday 1996 – My hunger is still insatiable, I want the phone call of recognition. I want my glamour immense, all the pieces fitting nicely, and everyone accounted for. But the phone didn’t ring that day.
Thursday 1999 – The room was dark and quiet. An IV attached on my right, his head fit in my left hand. Those new eyes took in all of me.
Friday 2001 – Colossal things torn down. Including him detonated with unstoppable cancer. The news said not many lives saved. The sobbing came on sometime in the middle of the day.
Monday to Sunday - Has it happened yet?
Sunday 2011 – I kiss each of her tiny fingers. Turns out there were plenty of kisses left. I will love her and him and also them – for all my days.
Saturday 2013 – The chair was comfortable. I looked out the window instead of the TV. Then back at the TV.
Monday 2018 – My thighs loose overripe mangoes, but I still feel like playing outside with the rest of the kids. Looking at the list, I am not so sure if I will get to it all.
Monday to Sunday - It hasn’t happened yet. I gotta stop asking.
