I’m from two smiling parents who loved me from day one.
I’m from the hospital days of worrying parents waiting for my baby brother.
I’m from the long walks through the neighborhood looking for the playground at the end of the street.
And the hour long swing set rides that felt like forever.
I’m from a large house in the middle of pastures with large trucks roaming the long bare streets, hearing the country music blaring from the big kid next door.
I’m from the large pit in my stomach from the worry of this new change.
This new home, new memories, and old family.
I’m from the late night movie nights, listening to the crunch of popcorn, and feeling the warmth of the fire place.
And the only worry in my mind being if I can sit in between my parents on the long black couch,
Feeling their embrace and knowing that their support kept me through the next day.
I’m from the walks home from the school bus and remembering the smell of food through the kitchen window.
The smell of Persian food floating through the air, as I sat down next to my grandma telling her about my day.
I’m from the cold breeze through the house
To being tucked in bed with my favorite purple blanket
Knowing my mother’s good night kiss on my forehead would keep all the bad dreams away.
I’m from two loving parents
A caring little brother.
I’m from a home away from home, growing up to be the girl I am today,
I am a girl of two cultures blended to perfection,
Struggling to keep both as prevalent to my life as possible.