Where I'm From...

I am from the tiny house on the corner behind the big red maple and my mother’s garden, from snap, crackle, pop with Saturday morning cartoons and hopscotch on the front walk under a slowly setting, summer sun.

I am from the street that winds passed the park, with fuchsia bursts of rhododendrons and the faint, steady beat of the basketball court behind the swaying pines.

I am from the forget-me-nots and the wild bleeding hearts that grew in my grandmother’s garden, the sweet one hundreds with their buzzing bees, red flesh and warm fruit perfectly ripened in the lazy afternoon sun.

I am from the music makers and the strong, swift fingers of self-taught strings that strum and pick and hoot and holler into the night air from the soft glow of the back porch light, from Janet’s strawberry rhubarb pie and molasses baked beans and Sunday dinners made from the bounty of Walter’s garden and the good, dark earth.

I am from the self-sufficient and self-reliant.

From a million “I love you’s” wrapped in strong, loving arms, and the silly mother singing “we’re off to see the wizard” while skipping into the grocery store.

I am from the faithful healers. The believers in gratitude and love and goodness and the infinite Mind.

I’m from the changing seasons, where summer is measured in salty ocean waves, and winter in nor’easters, cold cucumber sandwiches and homemade pizza.

From the parents who built everything with a couple of scraps and their own two hands, the teacher, the quilter, the chef, the cookie burner, the furniture maker, the garden tender, the fisherman, the painter, the best darned band aid put-er on-er, the dress maker, the guitar player and his harmony. My father. My mother.

I am from the weathered albums of Polaroids and 3 x 5's, from the pale pink, unfinished baby book that has cluttered my parent's bookshelf for 32 years. I'm from pencil sketches, charcoal drawings, and report cards that fill boxes in the basement, and old handmade birthday cards tucked into my mother's cookbooks to mark favorite recipes and remind her of when her children were small.

I am from love and laughter and love.


Where are you from?

I found this here and couldn't resist.