Obon

McKenna Nartatez

says Mom

Outside her childhood home.

’s bowl of water sits by the door

Ready for his weary feet

On his return from his journey.

Doors are left open

To welcome all,

Descendants, ancestors,

And flies

Attracted to the mix of savory and sweet

Fishy

greasy

sugary

But those must wait.

I remind myself.

And obaachan smiles in greeting

Then hands me a flat bunch of lit incense.

Views of my cousins through the open sliding doors

Their game of badminton in the backyard beckon.

says mom.

The polished wooden

,

in its prominent spot in the living room

Is decorated in honor of grandfather.

Pineapples, passion fruit and monkey bananas

next to candles and flowers and

The bowl of half burned incense at the center.

Carefully place my incense

Bow my head

cousin’s house

Guppie

cousin’s house

-player-cousin’s house

The day for extended family

Visits to houses I see twice a year

Stuffed with oxtail soup,

.

Repetitive greetings

Boxed rice offerings pile to the side of every altar.

More incense and

Prayers and

to ancestors I’ve never met.

Countless conversations fill the living room

As trails of my uncle’s cigarette smoke waft upwards 

to mingle with the flowery smell of lit incense

And all the food.

Four generations of family 

And above the noise,

deep, throaty laugh embraces us all.

Night falls 

And with full bellies

We make our way into the street outside

clutches a steel bowl

And more incense

Someone adds bits of

and

’s favorite foods.

And on top of it all

Yellow

spirit money is set to fire

The sound of Eisa singing, whistling and cheerful drums

Embrace us

As we bid

good journey.