Where I'm From

I saw this at Vixen's Den and had to do it. You can see the template here, or you can visit the website of the original author of "Where I'm From", George Ella Lyon.

I am from a handmade saddle probably lost in a flood but I can’t bring myself to ask, from Pop Rocks and Cokes at the Little League park.

I am from the red brick house with a big porch and a reservoir full of fish we weren’t allowed to eat.

I am from the old fallen oak, the passion flowers that look more like they should be growing in Hawaii than on an old fence post in rural Arkansas.

I am from beach trips to Panama City and stubbornness, from Granny and Nonny and The Luebkes.

I am from the uncanny ability to pretend like absolutely nothing is wrong when almost everything is and the ability to deal with any crisis that comes with that.

From saying “Yes Mame” and standing up straight.

I am from filling in all the letters in the church bulletin and staring up at the ceiling of the most beautiful building in the whole town and being furiously angry when they decided to abandon it to build a new church.

I'm from DeWitt, Arkansas and Germany, Chicken Casserole and Pork Chops.

From the time my brothers broke my mother’s lamp, the pleading with me to sew up the silk shade that got torn, the sad attempt that was, and the fact that my mother pretended not to notice it for years.

I am from my granny’s hope chest and her trunks in the shed filled with banners from the South Pacific that my grampa sent her, pressed wedding cake on a wedding napkin, and the green suit she wore when she got married. From the appreciation that grew in me from the history of those items, and the desperate hope that they’re being well taken care of.