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Photo by brookephotography.com

Copyright 2012 Dorothy Lucey

My (Occasional) Daughter

 

 

 

 

   10 years ago I lost a job.

   And gained a daughter.

   I skipped the 9 months pregnant part.

   I picked her up at the airport.

   She was tiny.

   But she was 11 years old.

   Sandra came here, alone, from El Salvador.

   A charity called Mending Kids sends surgeons around the world helping children in need.

   Sometimes the kids come here for surgery.

   And they stay with a family.

   I had just lost my fancy TV job.

   Due to a disease called Over 50.

   So, I had some spare time.

   My family was all in.

   So was I…

   Until I was driving to the airport.

   I asked God if this was a good idea.

   He sent fireworks.

   This isn’t a metaphor.

   Fireworks started exploding over the ocean.

   It wasn’t the 4th.

   So it was someone with too much money.

   Or the answer to my prayer.

   And then…

   A smaller explosion.

   My tire blew.

   That felt like mixed messages.

   The first place I took Sandra was a gas station.

   The second place was CNN.

   I was scheduled to be a talking head on CNN.

   This is when you go on TV and…talk.

   So, we’re heading to CNN.

   Going 60 on the 10.

   When she starts to open the car door.

   I’m screaming.

   Alto.

   I’m thinking…

   I hope that means stop.

   I pull over.

   She opens the door…

   And barfs.

   She barfed at all the best places, CNN, Rodeo Drive.

   Nobody told me she got car sick.

   Probably because she’d never been in a car before.

   Sandra spoke no English.

   And mi español apesta (sucks).

   One day she asked for salchicha.

   Google translate told me she wanted a hot dog.

   After surgery she asked for hielo.

   I got jello.

   She wanted ice.

   But we did learn to communicate (mostly through Barbie movies with subtitles).

   My son taught her how to skate and boogie board.

   My husband made her favorites (my cooking is like my Spanish).

   Her favorite breakfast (lunch, and dinner) was French Fries.

   She had two surgeries in four months.

   When she was healed…

   We packed up her stuff.

   She came with a backpack with a few undies.

   She left with two fifty pound bags.

   My friends may have bought her a few things.

   She opened her backpack to stuff more stuff in.

   And took out some little white pills.

   She put her finger down her throat and made a gagging sound.

   Did we laugh.

   Apparently she had thrown up traveling by bus at home.

   So, someone knew to pack motion sickness pills.

   By then she’d survived Thunder Mountain at Disneyland.

   So I think she was cured.

   We went to the airport.

   No barf.

   No flat tire.

   Sandra said “Hasta nunca” (loosely translated…see you never).

   And I cried.

   I did visit her in El Salvador.

   I took her to a Mending Kids mission in San Salvador.

   She got to comfort kids having the same surgery she had.

   We discussed her coming to live with us.

   But she decided to stay with her family.

   They moved a few times.

   And we lost touch.

   Until this week.

   I got a FaceTime call.

   I hadn’t seen that face in 7 years.

    I had to tell her my Mom and our pets Milly and Oatmeal (whom she called Abuela, Leche        and Avena) had all passed away.

   And I got to meet her baby.

   Her daughter.

   10 years ago I had an 11 year old daughter.

   Now she’s 21 and a mommy.

   And I will never lose her again

 

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