My Middle Name
The 1st time someone asked me about my middle name I told them with pleasure what it was
I was 9 years old the first time that someone called me by that very name
I smiled and disowned it saying that it was my grandmother’s name not mine
As if the weight and wrinkles that name carried weren’t more precious than gold
As if that name wasn’t strong enough to move mountains and heavy enough to crush Boulders
But sitting here now looking at the holder of said name I wonder how I could ever be so stupid not to hold the name that carried my grandmother through her life
The name the caressed my grandfather’s lips The first time he decided he loved her
The name that took her through nursing school
The name that introduced her almost like thunder introduced lightening
The very name that transcended the barriers of language
The E and A that laid on the tongues of thousands that I would never get to meet and the S that confounded those same people
The L and I that almost looked like they were out place
“Elisa”
Her name was the first time I’d ever seen love spelt with 5 letters
How dare I deny my heritage,
The Portuguese my grandmother waited 33 years to embed into me
I’m 18 now and the next time someone called me by that name
I’d say thank you
Go home and kiss my thunderstorm, my ocean, my name giver
The same person who somehow managed to store 8 decades worth of love in that very name
my grandmother
~Keyla Chongo
