Where I Am From

My mother would have been sixty years old on the 14th. This is for her.

I am from all things on sale, even if you don't need them, Clorox bleach and Hellmans Mayo.

I am from a 150 year old farmhouse, aka The Homestead, aka Shangri La, where hot summer days were spent reading in a hammock on the big blue porch or floating in an innertube on the blue, blue pond.

I am from red begonias grown gorgeous in "just dirt", marigolds in the garden and wildflowers in the vase.

I am from apple cider making parties, Kern moles and Demarest moles, from Pom Pom, Great Gorgeous Aunt Gerry, and the Ice Queen.

I am from humor that covers and heals all and melancholy that runs underneath.

From "life is not fair" and "there is no such thing as a free lunch".

I am from believing in fairies as much as God, Bible stories and philosophical discussions du jour.

I am from Adirondack mountains and lakes, family archives in towns with our name, and stories of being descended from Scottish Queens.

I am from chopped egg sandwiches, and chocolate chip cookies after the first day of school, always.

I am from brothers who drive Nana's car into the bushes, guitar serenades each night before bed, and boxes of hand-me-down clothing from Lisa, Kimmy and Carol.

I am from garage sale treasure trunks full of Christmas ornaments and artwork, boxes of slides taken with a camera with my name, and, always, always, doing it for the memories.

Template, here.