I am from summer bonfires
where roasting a plump marshmallow
until it turns a golden brown
and the stars twinkling delicately overhead on a cool June night
captivated my family for hours.

I am from flying on a tube being pulled by the boat,
gripping the handles
until my knuckles turned white,
and giggling
as I struggled to remain on the float.

I am from brief trips to Sunny Side Beach
in the month of July.
The beach was a swing set and monkey bars,
both painted an energetic shade of crimson,
and the sight of it made me walk, run, pedal faster,
knowing that my reward remained only a short distance away.

I am from bike rides to Heather Lake Food Basket
to recycle the empty bottles in exchange for a few dollars.
The bottles paid for my usual purchase:
a soda from the little store that carried everything imaginable (in my mind):
cake, potato chips, ice cream, candy, and soda.

I am from Jones’ Fufu Berry Soda,
which quenched my thirst on a steaming August day.
Whenever I took the first sip,
my eyes watered from the carbonation
and my body escaped the torture of the smoldering heat.

I am from family reunions in the middle of August,
where two or seventy of my relatives entered into my house,
and I gleefully delivered a brief update on recent events
with all aunts, uncles, grandmas, grandpas, cousins.

I am from fond memories and
nostalgia that never seems to disappear,
despite the numerous
bonfires,
tube rides,
walks to the beach,
trips to recycle the cans,
reunions with distant relatives,
and jones’ soda, which never failed to make my eyes water.