Where I'm From

I am from grass stained knees, a purple Huffy bike and the belief that too much reading is a good thing.

I am from the house where all the kids played with a kitchen that told of mom's home cooking.

I am from Snap Dragons on Mother’s Day and the Roses from dad she likely preferred but never said a word.  I’m from dad’s tomato garden, kiddie pools as “lakes” and a retaining wall along the drive where hundreds of Strawberry Short Kook and Poncho Punch Otter Pops were consumed.

I am from “kids’ night” on Fridays and hard work pays off.  From Jacobs’ never say “I can’t” and never (ever) give up.

I am from a pantry full of hot pickles, spinach pie until you’re sick and fried chicken with Pork & Beans on a red “You Are Special Today” birthday plate.

I am from elbows off the table and wait your turn to speak.

I am from a rosary from grandma on Baptism day and Luke 2 on Christmas Eve.  I’m from brunch with family after Easter service and Palm Sunday Mass in a sanctuary filled with grace.  I'm from the tiny church where, at age 23, I accepted Christ with my (then) soon to be hubby by my side.

I am from the Pacific Northwest, a city girl born and raised, though my heart longs for small town USA. 

I am from never having to ride the school bus, brown paper bag lunches and cookies and milk waiting when we got home. 

I am from keep your promises and always tell the truth; the promise of a loving mother to never yell so long as I was truthful.  From growing up way too soon and knowing it was her I could turn to.

I am from treasured gifts of beautiful woodworking from my daddy that I will one day pass along.  From Grandma Linda’s worn (as her nearly 100 year old hands were) King James Bible; margins filled with scribbled notes, her heart spilled out on those pages.    

I am from thousands of pictures, some framed or slipped into album pages and others tucked safely away in envelopes, the dust beginning to age them. From boxes of art projects, articles written for the school paper and memories recorded on the pages of my mama's journals...words that I will someday cherish every bit as much as my own memories.   

Based on the original poem “Where I’m From” by George Ella Lyons which I found through another blogger - HopefulLeigh (thank you!!).

-Cassi