Where I am From

This is a poem I wrote based on George Ella Lyon's "Where I am From."


I am from the hands of a Catholic nun and a foster mother; from Prell shampoo and Avon cologne.

I am from a home full of games, cribbage and Rummy, with hallways and hiding places, with music and footsteps, with TV and Purple Passions.

I am from the Maple Tree with the bounding roots, the burning bush and the bleeding heart; the white roses and daisies, pink carnations and dandelions.

I am from Christmases at Grandma’s and sarcasm, from the Guimonts and the Raekers, Vera and Merle and a 19 year old girl that none of us knows.

I am from the stoicism of the Germans and the passivity of the Swedes, suppressed emotions and exuberant laughter.

From being one who is chosen to a doctor or lawyer or whatever I wanted to become, because my mother instilled those ideals in me.

I am from delivering Avon to swinging on swings, telling secrets to friends and building forts in forbidden places.

I am from tennis balls on Rainbow and glass in my foot, bikes in soft sand and scars on knees.

I am from the Land of 10,000 Lakes and Twins and Vikings, lefsa and goulash, creamed tuna on toast and herring.

I am from Catholics and Evangelicals and Lutherans and all who believe in Something bigger than themselves.

From a polyester wearing Avon lady, an unknown nineteen year old with brown wavy hair and green eyes, a grandfather I didn’t know and a grandmother who made Cream of Wheat with as much sugar as I wanted.

I am from places I know and places I don’t, parents I know and parents I don’t. I am from teachers and coaches, aunts and godfathers.

I am from integrity and honesty, perfectionism and self-doubt, compassion and love.

All of which have made me who I am today.