I might as well should have been born there seeing that I was taken there since my infancy. Belmont, Port of Spain. Houses on hills and trees of mangoes. Tall stalks of sugar cane in the neighbor's yard. Hailing down a taxi to go to town. Mario's pizza with ketchup, or real KFC. Jogging around the Savannah and having coconut water and snowcones. Sweet, sweet Trinidad.
Then there are the outer skirts outside of the city. Having shark and bake at Las Cuevas and Maracas. Staying at the beach house in Mearow. Being lulled to sleep by the waves caressing the shore. Running on the warm sand. Seeing your feet through the clear ocean, not clouded or obscured like that of the US.
Christmas time filled with many festivities, especially in the Seaton family. The backbone of our celebration? Parang, parang, parang. Uncle has the quatro while Auntie sings the tune. Cousins have the maracas, and the tuck-tuck. Mommy's clapping along Mama's dancing, bones never to old to move to the rhythm. "Eating, drinking, having a good time."
Family. Togetherness. Being blessed to have everyone at once place, alive and well. Strength. Happiness. Comfort in the warmth of your loved ones. Gratefulness. Thankfulness. That you are a part of a heritage so rich.
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