I am from shelves & shelves of books, DiCarlos pizza and summers at the lake.
I am from a perfectly clean, organized, burnt orange & gold decorated and pine scented split level home.
I am from a cul de sac in the suburbs up, on the hill, in a town by the river, in the beautiful Appalachian mountains
I am from summers at Myrtle Beach, mini golf and dark tans, from Nan’s homemade noodles and Grandma’s imaginative stories.
From chain smokers who refuse to roll the window down, so the smell mixed with the new car pleathor smell & the ‘pine scented’ airfreshner.
And they wondered why I got car sick.
I am from endless social activity, meeting your obligations, giving back to the community and always being on time.
From fighting over who was on who’s side, laying in the footwells, hanging between the seats & laying in the back window
We spent a lot of time in the car.
I am from Mass every Sunday, and also on Friday when school was session. From 12 years of Catholic school, getting swatted by nuns, learning prayers by rote & going to confession whether you felt guilty or not.
I’m from the Chippewa tribe, from Germany, Ireland, Scotland & Wales. From onions & cabbage and I really don’t like onions or cabbage.
Actually, I hate cabbage with a passion.
I am from 6 generations of a family living in one area, until most of my own generation had to leave to find work, and from another family that moved around almost every generation.
From stacks of albums and boxes of slides. From a home that has been in the family since 1943 and one that moved around the area more than a few times. From mementos stuffed under the stairs and long ago photos of people we can no longer name.
And I am on my way back there today to share where I am from with the next generation, growing up far away from what I knew & loved.