Memories of coconut oil

standing at the door
yelling "Nana!"
hoping her deaf ears
hear my voice
"Yes, anak-ko?"
fresh from my bath
in a wrapped towel
hair wet and unkempt
"I'm ready!"
Come here, anak-ko"
she quietly commanded
bad accent
Nana reaches for the jar
filled of white lardy paste
her old brittle hands
cracks open the lid
releasing a wonderful scent

I always enjoyed in my childhood
room fills of fragrant cooked coconuts
frail fingers dig into the lard
filling her palms
small dabs
rubbing between her hands
gentle caresses
on my hair
every stroke with care and love
to her only grandson
in America
our time
our moment
our bonding
sharing stories
her life
her children
rough times, hard times, good times
fifteen minutes
priceless memories
she hands me the comb
I run off
until the next time