I am from coke floats
And football games
I am from homemade ice cream
And wedding punch church socials
I am from old houses
And red brick parsonages.
I am from outlet store Chic jeans
And pink leg warmers.
I am from grape Kool-Aid
And red play dough.
I am from designs scribbled in a note pad
And anxious entries from stage left.
I am from tea parties
And ancient tea ceremonies in silk kimonos.
I am from Pizza Hut Friday nights
And katsudon with raw egg over sticky rice.
I am from ocean tides
And late night talks on hazy evenings.
I am from UNC Tarheel tailgating
And March Madness.
I am from Southern manners
And social graces.
I am from hillbilly cabins
And pull yourself up by your boot straps.
(Even if your shoes were too tight)
I am from Nancy Drew mysteries
And the GREAT AMERICAN NOVEL.
I am from books for comfort
And You Are My I Love You…
I am from Bible drills
And Psalmist poetry.
I am from raucous laughter over bawdy jokes
In a cigarette haze.
I am from long plane rides
And longer car trips.
I am from rushed trips to the ER
And long stays with sick children
I am from difficult pregnancies
Wrought with fear.
I am from C-Sections and VBACs
And first latches in the NICU.
I am from library cards
And sticky grape jelly fingers
I am from soccer games
And princess costumes.
I am from Hot Wheels racers
And T-ball hats
I am from grass stained knees
And blue swings pumped by tiny legs.
I am from chlorine splashes
And golden hair that smells like sunshine.
I am from two hand touches
And blue ribbon wins.
I am from sleepless nights
And bright glaring days.
I am from soft onesies with spit up stains
And a little girl’s dress that hangs in an empty closet.
I am from screaming fights
And clinging so tight I might break.
I am from brick walls built brick by brick
Only to be chipped away by love.
I am from unbearable grief
And uncontainable happiness.
I am from magnolia and peace lilies
And funeral parlors and gravestones.
I am from Cameron, Abigail, Cohen, and Kathleen…