For my late grandma
When we were children my sister and I were taught that our ancestors visit us in the form of moths. We met our great grandmother when I was 8 visiting her village in Vava’u for the first time. She came to us fluttering above a burning mosquito coil, her wings silky and white in the smoke. We watched her attentively from the cold linoleum floor. I’d like to think that I’ve seen Lupe a few times. Like whenever I open a window at night, or when visiting a new place, when I pray for my protection.