One week left
And tears drip off my nose
As I picture your faces
Wrinkled and smiling
Youthful but tired
Bespectacled and laughing
Greeting me everyday with a persistent “¿Cómo le fue?”
      until I give a good enough answer about the
      going-ons of my day.
Falling asleep in the brown rocking armchair.
Sincerely hoping for me to “find a good husband.”
Eating dinner of eggs and beans and pan dulce and
      talking of matters little and big.
Furrowing your brow when you’re worried I haven’t
      eaten enough,
Or when I take a shower past 6 p.m. and my hair is too
      wet and I will catch a cold (in 65° weather),
Or when I don’t wear sunscreen or a jacket.
Studying with me at the kitchen table, our different tasks
      completed in friendly silence
(until Mamá interrupts with an anecdote from a
      neigbor or the news or her childhood).
Giving me a place in your home and your family.
Mamá de Guatemala,
Abuelita de Guatemala,
Hermana de Guatemala.
Each of you I will pray for, write to, and remember,
But on this looming day,
How do I say goodbye?