detour

i ask my grandma a question about anything.
her answer, a meandering trip...
through 60 year old memories, fresh as yesterday,
past character after character, too wild to be fiction;
hopscotch from my infancy backwards
to her own childrearing years,
then zoom decades ahead to last week's AARP meeting...

and somehow, in the process, while lost in her crinkly, watery eyes,
i realize i have my answer, and more than i ever knew to ask.