Iris Lee
LUCY: A SESTINA
for family
Sometimes Lucy will sit
like a fruit basket on grandma’s sofa—the one
patched with my old flannel. Grandma listens
to the soft purr of TV, tells my mother:
“I think Lucy is a reincarnation
of waigong.” Grandfather. We smile.
I was the one who wanted a cat. Mother
was the one who convinced Father. One
month later, Lucy sashayed in & began listening
to our conversations, ears flat. Don’t stand while you eat. Sit
down. Haha, Ivan’s with a girl & look how he smiles.
Sometimes, I think Lucy is actually a tiger, a reincarnation
of Richard Parker from Life of Pi. They listened
& prodded me on. Lucy just has white stripes, haha. One
year later, I gave up my illusions. Lucy was still small, sitting
between our two black leather sofas. I still loved her. I smile
& blink at her slowly. I’m supposed to be her mother.
There are also times when I think Lucy is a reincarnation
of me. I’m still alive though — I can still sit
on chairs without falling through. But I feel bad when Lucy can’t listen
to flies buzzing, or the dripping faucet. She’s one
of those cats with ears like folded origami corners. Mother
says it’s not our fault; we didn’t know. I still smile
when she purrs because neither of us hear well. Maybe Lucy is a reincarnation
Of no one & that’s the truth. It’s unfair that we make her sit
bunched up in the empty spaces we leave. She could be reincarnating
her past cat life, nothing more. She’s always the one
who finds us—at the most inconvenient times, crossing my mother’s
keyboard or pouncing onto my belly. I like to listen
to her purrs thunder after each bolt of catnip. I like smiling
even after she’d already walked away. Even from one
room away, I’ll be a good mother—
closing our eyes just to listen to my father’s laugh, to listen
to Ivan slap another joke into his knee, smiling
softly. We blink together, one room away. You don’t have to reincarnate
as anyone. You can just blink. You can just sit.
It will be okay. I’ll sit here too, if you want. I’ll listen.
You don’t have to smile. It’s not just you—trust me—mothers
can be sad, too. If I ever reincarnate, Lucy, I promise I’ll be the one
purring, one room away.