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.