I am from sweets, baseball caps, and broken mirrors
I am from the home constantly supplied with fish sauce
Sweet and salty, it always tastes the best from Mom
I am from the roses, the grass that we were told tasted like rice
I’m from the karaoke at every family gathering and buy gifts for family even if you’re not told to
From Truc, Boy, and Dao

I’m from the ones who always leave last and the ones who move every weekend
Greet those whom you visit or visit you and absolutely do not eat the seeds in watermelon --- you’ll grow one in your tummy
I’m from altar serving, choir
I’m from black and gold, yellow and red, pho, and sup mang cua.
From the people who got lost while crossing oceans to America for their siblings, children, and parents
The father who was separated from his wife to look after his kids and grandkids.

Mounted on the wall are family pictures next to the Christmas tree that no one bothered to take down.
I am from memories closely held to my heart, forgotten by some, remembered by many, and important to few.