Caitlyn Chau

Saturdays of December, January, and May

Caitlyn Chau

Note: Footnotes are attached at the end of the poem.

I am from Saturday night dinners

The ones we used to hold

I am from a family

Whose dreams were big and bold

I am from homemade dumplings

On Merced Street

I am from meals eaten

In the innermost seat

“上菜!*” they warn me,

As the hot Dim Sum plates arrive

To accompany the tea.

I am from red envelopes that say

“珠珠**, do well in school!”

I am from Mama’s (grandma’s) house

With that shabby kitchen stool

I am from her cemetery flowers

And May twenty-eighths,

Where each year we go

To place our hands in our faiths.

I’ll admit, the decorations where she rests

Never fail to impress;

I watch every December, January, and May

As the tombs are blessed.

I am from the family

That loves with hugs and laughs

I am from the family trips in

Uncle’s photographs

Much has changed between these pictures

And change, with or without invite,

May eventually cease our dinners

Every Saturday night.

Although someone new owns the keys

To the house on Merced Street

Although the Dim Sum place sold

And on Saturdays we no longer eat

Although we’ve made many memories

And we’re all getting a bit more old,

I’ll always remember where I’m from

And the story that we’ve told.

*上菜: A short version of “The food is being served”, meaning “Serving food!”

**珠珠: My Chinese nickname, meaning “bead”