I am from popcorn and cranberry juice on the front porch watching a rainbow with my brother, from Crayola and Color Forms and brand new fancy pencils and little tiny erasers in a million shapes from the "teacher store".
I am from 30th Street where we rode our bikes "that one way", ran down the hill to the park and were instructed to stay out of the woods.
I am from the tomato plants, lavender, cucumbers, and snap dragons in our back yard, the crab grass that my grandma taught us to whistle with and the lilac bush that grew as my brother and I did, each year a little taller.
I am from fireworks and birthday cake in Norfolk, cookie day in December, and a yucky shrimp platter on Christmas Eve. I am from blue eyes, from Goossen and Wolfe and Dickinson and Davenport.
I am from the long line of strong women who do what they have to one day at a time and from morning after seven o'clock morning in the lap of a warm loving dad in an office chair.
I am from "you can be replaced with a small animal" (with a smile) and "eat your bread crusts, it will make your hair curly".
I am from liberal Christianity that is more about the journey than the destination. From Sunday mornings chasing each other up the bell tower to watch the bells ring with our ears plugged.
I’m from Cheyenne, Lincoln, Tucson, and Omaha with roots much, much deeper and longer. I am from semmels and real whipped cream, handfuls of Brach's candy and warm, summer days of picking strawberries.
From my grandmother standing on the plantar in the their front yard announcing my birth, from a head first fall off a retaining wall at a car dealership that ended in a drive-thru, a Coke-a-cola and an Easter dress that matched my owie.
I am from albums and boxes and computer drives loaded with photos and videos, boxes of dusty gymnastics medals, and an inspiration book that is exploding at the seams. I am from an old yellow blankie that has gone everywhere I have and a family that continues to love despite one another's short comings. I am from a mom that is loving, forgiving and encouraging and from a gentle, giant-hearted dad who would give the world to me if he could. I am from the family that I hope to continue, from parents that I hope to be, and from a life that I pray I can give my little boy.
This was started from a writing exercise I found at the blog Mama's Losin' It.