Where I’m From

I am from corn on the cob, from Commodore 64s and guitar music.

I am from the house on Main Street, boxy and white, from the aroma of fresh cake pulled from the oven. I am from the house on 15th Street too.

I am from grass clippings collected in the red wagon, from helicopter seeds plucked green off the tree in the neighbor’s backyard.

I am from fierce privacy, and from the need to overshare every little detail; from “ladies and gentlemen take my advice” and “the cornfield has ears.” I am from Cobb and Edwards and Saint John and Drake.

I am from the Baptist church every Sunday morning and Sunday night and Wednesday night, from Sunday School and children’s choir and AWANA. I am from the metal chair behind the pulpit so my voice could reach the microphone. I am from Daddy’s preaching and Mom’s music.

I’m from Wisconsin and New York and England and a little bit from Nebraska, from pizza and pancakes and buttercream frosting.

I’m from sitting on Mom’s lap and breaking the chair at camp, from fighting over the stupidest things in the universe with my sister. I am from learning to drive in the Farm and Fleet parking lot, and from Dad wandering circles in the store and having back surgery and visiting Mayo Clinic all in one year. I’m from seeing God provide.

I’m from the old pictures they found when they cleaned out Great-Grandma’s place, from the collages at the lake house, from the marks on the door that someone should have taken when they sold Grandma Edwards’ home after she died, from the laundry baskets full of photographs in the closet at Mom’s. I’m from the ice cream machine in Grandpa’s garage and from the Hummel figurines Grandma had on the mantel and from the little book that used to belong to Uncle Carl.

I’m from Tolkein and Trixie Belden and crying over Charlotte’s Web and Anne of Avonlea and Folger’s commercials.

I am from preachers and poets and musicians and soldiers and readers and dreamers and mentors and bakers and teachers and lovers.

I’m from blessings and tears and I’m from family hugs and I am from never doubting even for a minute that I am loved.


Thanks to Corinne for inspiring me to do this, and thanks to this template for a starting place.


8 thoughts on “Where I’m From

  1. love this… i pasted the template into a post last night after reading corinne’s… and now i see yours & hers and wonder how i will ever write this. but i will try. love you & your red wagon & buttercream frosting πŸ™‚

  2. Pingback: Writing Me {Where YOU’RE From} | Bigger Picture Blogs

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