She was the last of nine surviving children. Grew up in Portugal, in a northern farming village near the Spanish border. And knew she didn’t belong there.
She came to America with her parents when she was 13. After six months, her parents returned to Portugal. Before they left, they asked her if she wanted to return with them.
Living with older brothers and sisters, she worked from then on, eventually moved to her own apartment and put herself through college.
Now, she’s upstairs, slicing pork and preparing a marinade for a portuguese delicacy. Her American-born husband writes a tanka-prose. Her American-born son ran in the Manhattan Invitational at Van Cortlandt Park in the Bronx. She’ll begin another work day as a bilingual mental-health consultant on Monday.
In short, she embodies the American dream. Not bad for the last daughter of a Portuguese farmer.
continue to flutter
in a passing breeze
this peculiar journey