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I Am From

I am from a blossoming tree, deciduous verdure, and blooming buds, like that of the trees that blinked with Christmas LED’s in our December backyard.
I am from ebonies and ivories, from Pixar and Matilda, from paisley dresses and denim jumpers, theme park rides and swimming pools.
I am from the castle in my backyard. I am from the slide that crossed its moat and the swings I fought the dragons on. I am from rowing my wagon-boat with rake-oars, and redecorating the house siding with mud wallpaper.
I am from dandelions and Texas blue bonnets, from Queen Anne’s lace and the vase of happy weeds I picked for our countertop.
I am from sarcastic humor and playful jokes, from photographing family gathering inners before we eat—in honor of Aunt Blanche. From Grandma’s crocheted Afghans and Grandpa’s tractor rides.
I am from persistent tenacity and organized chaos. I am from reading novels together on mom’s bed, and being captive by dad’s stories on road trips.
From “you don’t always need a three ring circus,” and, “Could you just try?” and jubilant choruses of Camptown Races.
I am from summertime vacation Bible School and donuts at Sunday School in Edwardsville, and quiet Sunday mornings in Leesburg at home.
I am from Tulsa and European ancestors, and Civil War Union Soldiers. I am from Chinese buffets and orange, pink, and brown wafer cookies.
From Uncles Curt and Paul hiding the freshly-baked pan of cherry coffee cake swirl and from the Lego skyscrapers my brother constructed.
I am from photos of my growing youth taken laying on my afghan and from annual shots of my brother and me in the hammock in Springville. I am from silly Christmas card photos and family portraits composed of denim facades.
I am from sturdy roots of compassion and maturity, from the tree that has helped me sprout and flourish, and embellish with a palette of vivacious foliage.




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