I am from sloppy hand-painted swingsets, sweet banana trees drooping over the wooden fence, and blackberries picked off of backyard bushes
I am from crisp green grass crunching under my feet as I sprint to capture my yellow lab
I am from chalk-coated sidewalks with the colors melting away as the rain trickles upon it

I am from gooey lasagna smothered in thick tomato sauce, Costco chicken pot pie stuffed with veggies, and Outback macaroni and cheese filling my bowl
I am from pumpkin cheesecake, the orange goodness sticking to my fork every Thanksgiving
I am from the sweet smell of banana bread filling the house, letting us know it’s Christmas time

I am from big blue bows wrapped around my ponytail, tight blonde curls hanging loosely around my face, and little pink dresses with
ruffled socks peeking from my shoes
I am from chanting orange and blue cheerleading uniform: “Let’s Go Panthers, Let’s Go,” with pom poms
glittering in the sunlight
I am from old t-shirts with melted ice cream dripping down the seams of the faded cotton material

I am from my hometown in sunny Florida
From cool breezes, crashing waves, swaying palm trees and cool swimming pools
Crescent Beach every summer for a week, living the life in the shining pool, on the warm beach, bonding with family, and old friends I haven’t seen in a year

I am from ice cream sundaes
From a little plastic table filled with rainbow sprinkles, thick chocolate syrup, and light fluffy whipped cream
Blue Bell strawberry ice cream as my favorite, light pink with a strawberry in every bite

I am from Kindergarten
From pink popsicles, mid-day naps, and sitting on the rainbow polka-dot rug for story time
My name being the only thing I can write, carefully forming each letter with my fat yellow pencil

I am from 7 o’clock mornings when the sun is still hiding, tangled hair that a brush can barely slide through, and early morning shows on PBS Kids making me giggle
I am from grabbing my chocolate milk filled sippy cup out of the fridge as soon as I wake up
I am from mixing and pouring blueberry muffin batter into tins, and secretly taking a lick off the wooden spoon


Life is like ice cream; I have to enjoy it before it melts away into
the waffle cone of memories that I wish I could enjoy again.