I Am From...

I am from sponge rollers and spray bottles, from American Girl dolls and cheer-leading routines. 

I am from a 1920's bungalow with rising property value, from back lots and public parks and four strong seasons each and every year. 

I am from the ginkgo trees, from sunflower fields, and from Indian summers;

from Kentucky bluegrass, from rhododendron bushes and from icicle winters.

I am from Spring Break trips to the Rocky Mountains, from Uncle Ward and Grandma Jean and circuit riding preachers who saved souls from the saddle.

I am from know-it-all's and sensitive souls, addicts and healers, soldiers and saints.

from "Never put yourself at the mercy of another driver."

from "Aim high in steering."

from "Sorry Officer, I didn't know the speed limit."

I am from the middle-most notch on the Bible belt, from defending my beliefs before I knew how to believe. From Creationism and mission trips, altar calls and still, small voices. 

I am from Germany, from Wales, and from Israel, from Swiss-braided bread and Italian meat loafs.

From the grandmother who took ballet as a grown woman and the mother who started her own company from her kitchen and the aunt who became the chair of her department.  

I am from the shelf under the coffee table, the shoe boxes in the attic, the frame above the leather couch and the watermarked lid of the Winfrey piano.  

I am from struggle and grief and shame and fear

        from strength and grit and spirit and real love.

 

Me and my brothers, July 1988 (I'm the bald one). 

Me and my brothers, July 1988 (I'm the bald one). 

Inspired by the poem "Where I'm From" by George Ella Lyons .

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This post was part of the SheLoves synchroblog found here.