I woke thinking of our family's last flag celebration. I couldn't stay awake, and I tried my best. But the celebration lasted all night; and I slept late the next day.
My favorite part of the celebration wasn't the endless tables of food and desserts, even though I couldn't get enough sponge cake, it was the spontaneous, off-the-cuff singing and dancing from family and friends, each challenging the other with ludicrous lyrics until someone messed up the song and everyone started again.
And you can't forget Ma mere put a lot of work into her rice and red beans and even cooked a large kettle of fried pork the way Uncle Tonton likes. And your pickled cabbage was the best Grann! But I thought the blue and red fresco was way too sweet. But I gracefully accepted, just the same, out of politeness and respect for Great Grandma Pierre.
And the Kompa dancers were the queasiest! It was best to stay out of their way! I didn't want the attention, or the embarrassment.