I am from the single-wide trailer on hundreds of acres of land, with frozen pipes and thin walls but love enough to fill it.
I am from the man made pond belonging to my neighbor and the rock from which I watched it, crying my lonely tears and telling all my secrets to the wind.
I am from large family Christmas' and bodies that would never be tall, from Priscilla and Teddy and my crazy Aunt Laura.
I am from the quick tempered and equally quick to love.
From a melting pot of countries, Poland, Ireland, England, Germany, who make me what I am and someone who can do whatever she puts her mind to.
I am from the Catholic Church, First Communions and Mass on Sunday, to a seeker that refuses to believe that there is one true way.
I’m from a small town that both confined and released all that I am, from fresh made bread that I would watch impatiently to rise and Christmas Cookies laid out on open paper bags to give them a chance to cool.
From the sister born to soon but who fought for every breath, the family afraid of birds, and the couple married in the backyard right after her graduation.
I am from races on Sunday, wood fires burning in winter, boxes of washed out pictures and keys belonging to things I no longer recognize. From the petals of a rose put inside a McChicken Box and hidden in my locker, mix tapes that include my own voice and a heavy metal ID bracelet given as a reminder that I had something worth coming back to. From dreams that fell by the wayside and hopes that never quite worked out, to the promise of a brighter tomorrow whenever I look in my sons' faces. So much has made me into who I am, and I would never change a thing.
This was written for the first prompt in this week's Writer's Workshop over at Mama's Losin' It! The prompt is:
1. Complete the “Where I’m From” poem. (template here)