I am from a creek running through the park from Taffy’s breakfast and living near a big city without really being part of the city. From shopping on Saturdays after eating, picking Sunday afternoon lunch and letting mom sleep in. From root beer floats and banana split blizzards and a #2 cut the onions.
I am from the simple two story house with lots of room, front porch swing, a funny shaped pool, a toy room for fun, tornado closet under the stairs, an orange and brown kitchen, having our own rooms but sleeping in one bed, creaky stairs and hallway, and constant changes, except actually moving.
I am from the Cottonwood and Sweet gum trees and lots of monkey grass.
I am from ski trips and Galveston Island and the Bahamas and Vegas and Padre Island.
I am from Bob and Liz and Betty and Burt and Andy and Prissy from always having quarters in the pocket, endless worrying, familiar hands, wonderful stories, love for the brokenhearted and open arms and ears.
I am from the lectures of things done wrong and games that bring the fun and memories.
From “Home Safeway“and “if you’re not for Him then you are against Him“.
I am from Southern Baptist rules and the grace that forgives. Prayer before dinner, giving to others first, you can never spend too much time at church. Mission Friends, Girls in Action, Choir, Mission Trips, Camps, Sunday morning, Sunday Night, SNAC, Wednesday Night Live.
I'm from The Big “D”, the line between Texas and Arkansas, somewhere in the New Mexican desert, and Black Irish (or so we’re told), Hamburger Helper and Sunday Roast.
From the grandmother who didn’t graduate high school and never felt like she was smart enough but she taught us how to play tennis and how to cook and how to host family on any given holiday, the best way to throw a birthday party is to bring everyone a present and the uncle who took a bullet in the chest and lived to tell the tale, and thinks it’s fun to show us where he was shot, and joke that it hurts when we touch it.
I am from photos at the top of stairs covered in green shag carpet, on a wood paneled wall in the living room, in random photos up another stairway with girls sitting on porches, ceramic birthday princesses still lining new shelves, boots at Christmas, and endless items with our names and the gift date written on them.
Want to write your own "Where I'm From" poem? Find the format here.