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Tuesday, February 6

Where I'm From

So, I was surfing blogs to find entries for the Hidden Treasure awards and I came across a fun little Where I'm From poem posted at Mississippi Girl.
You write the poem using a template that can be found here.

I spent a couple of hours on it. It was a lot of fun. I hope you enjoy it. And hey, why don't you make one too?!?!?!

Where I'm From

I am from the small room with the angled ceiling where the window looked out directly to the moon. Where I could holler to my neighbor friend whose bedroom lined up with mine.

I am from the Fisher Price record player that I used for hours as I sang and danced in my room. From the Care Bear movie soundtrack, Annie soundtrack and Sesame Street albums that I knew entirely by heart.

I am from the little white house with the blue shutters placed in the center of a huge, green yard where deer sometimes visited while running through the adjacent woods.

I am from the rose bushes, violets and buttercups. From the delicate lady's slippers that I lovingly piled in a bouquet for my mom, only to discover that they were protected and not to be picked.

I am from Tetley tea with milk, hours of Scrabble and Rummy playing, bowls of Maine blueberries drowning in milk that were only consumed on the back porch. I am from school closures on winter storm mornings, barbecues in the backyard, dancing in leg warmers with my mom to Flashdance and many visits to the nearby lake.

I am from the dark eyed and high cheek-boned, fulminating and animated Devito's, Desersa's and Lewis'.

I am from the emotional, passionate arguments and the ferry rides to our loud family get-togethers. I am from a true New Yorker who taught me that you HAD to be thick skinned and independent. And from a devoted Red Sox fan whom I spent many evenings with searching through stacks of baseball cards to find Mike Greenwell and Wade Boggs.

I am from the belief that my mom really did have eyes in the back of her head and from the many warnings that it was important to have on clean underwear in case we were involved in a wreck.

I am from an appreciation for education. One who needed to earn high grades. From a father's Ivy League dreams. Who gave his bright daughter Wesleyan and Harvard notebooks at the age of seven.

I am from one raised Catholic and one sort of Protestant who decided to join the nearby picturesque, small town church because it was the right thing to do.
I am from the church children's choir and occasional Sunday School class. However, as a family, we just played church and the beliefs weren't a part of our every day lives.

I am from a small New England town in Connecticut, Sioux Indians, Italian immigration to Ellis Island, homemade spaghetti sauce, chicken parmigiana and broccoli rabe.

I am from trips after school to the special restaurant, where I would eat ice cream in a dixie cup with a wooden spoon. From car rides with my dad where we would laugh as we sang Dan Folgenberg, Neil Diamond and Don McLean classics on the top of our lungs.

I am from the alcoholic grandfather that I never really knew. They say I got my voice from him.
From the grandmother my mom tried to keep me from, who I am finally getting to know, now that I am grown.
And from an entire family on my dad's side that I will never meet. They abandoned him and his siblings when they were just young kids.

I am from scattered photos housed in boxes and torn albums. Ones that truly do speak a thousand words and tell me the stories that my disease stricken mom's crippled memory is soon forgetting.

I am from a respect for all that my parents have been through in their lives, a longing to know more about my mother's young adulthood, and a strong desire to make sure memories are preserved for my own children.