I am from electric frying pans, olive green carpet, and a portable dishwasher, from Crayola crayons and Tide detergent.
I am from the green and white rancher with the nearly tree-less yard, where the western sun makes the living room stuffy. From sleeping in the cool basement on hot summer nights.
I am from the too-long grass, petunias in the front planter, and overgrown arborvitaes held upright with pantyhose.
I am from Advent calendars and sarcasm, from Jackie and Dale and Ellie and Al, Bud and Bea.
I am from the arguments and divorce, visiting Dad and living with Mom.
From “life isn’t fair” and “don’t be late.” “Finish what you start,” and “eat now because I’m not cooking when we get home.”
I am from Catholicism and frustration, faith and belief. From conversion that disappoints some but pleases and fulfills me.
I am from Minnesota and Ireland, Sweden and Bohemia. From chicken & biscuits, chocolate chips melting on oatmeal, corn junk, cinnamon rolls, and rice pudding.
From the potato salad and the birthday party with three flopped cakes. From the beauty shop in the next town, and Big Blue. From a sister who belched the alphabet and was homecoming queen.
I am from photos in the end table, albums with Polaroids, and slides from before my time. Movies when grandparents were young and full of life. Memories of celebrations and accomplishments, crazy stunts and good times.
I’ve seen lots of bloggers with similar posts recently. I really like it because it takes ordinary things and weaves them together into a story that just sounds so poetic. If you’re interested in seeing the format/template, you can find it here.