I'm from the one story red cedar lake house,
tucked behind the whistling willow trees.
From the smell of fresh cut grass and the sound of early-morning skiers.
I am from burgers and brats sizzling on the grill,
on our wooden back porch.
I'm from walls covered with pictures and memorabilia of my family, of our adventures, and possessions of loved one’s that have passed.
I am from going out on the lake,
baking in the sun on my lime green wake boat.
I'm from a two hour drive up north,
with the kids and dogs squished in the back.
From the screams of my mother,
terrified of bugs.
I'm from riding on the back of motorcycles, jets skis, and snowmobiles.
I am from Sunday night dinner with my parents and little sister,
trying a new recipe from Pinterest each time.
I’m from sneaking food to my dogs under the table,
knowing if we got caught, we’d get scolded.
I'm from cuts, scrapes, and tears
from falling off bikes and scooters.
I’m from a family of Blackhawk and Green Bay Packer fans.
I am from a line of cooks.
From cheesy potatoes, chicken roast, and Grandpa's famous apple pie.
I am from a family, with arms open for a hug,
that will do anything to make sure you know you’re loved.
From my Dad reminding us,
“always say please and thank you,”
to my Mom scolding us for stealing cookies.
I am from the massive aged rocking chair,
that as a child took away my tears.
I’m from 17 years of traveling and doing adventurous things,
ziplining, going on rollercoasters, trying new foods, and facing my fear of the ocean.
From scars that were formed as a child.
From delicious banana cream pie, potato wedges, and BBQ ribs,
stuffed into my family's bellies until we felt grossly full.
From a family that loves unconditionally,
that will always be by my side supporting me, even when I make mistakes.
I’m from the one story, old, red cedar lake house,
where memories were made and will never be forgotten.