Where I come from

I love writing exercises that switch up the way I think or write and this one was particularly cool to me as I love reflecting on the people and places that I come from. I saw the template on this cool girl's blog. It's called Where I'm From and I think all of you should try it as well. It's thoughtful to think through and it's a lens for others to see a bit of where you come from.
Go here for the template.

I am from salty beaches with seashells and sand dollars, from Peachios and cartwheels on the lawn.

I am from the orange house on Pleasant Beach, the aging speedboat and the tire swing twirling in the afternoon sunlight.

I am from hardy rhododendrons that bloom vibrant and fit perfectly behind the ear, the sweetly fragrant lilies that wake me every Easter morning and unwavering dandelions that push their way through cracks in the patio.

I am from road trips guided by theme parks, from stepping lightly after curfew, from Harmony in Korea, from Katherine Williams and Uncle Ambrose.

I am from great lengths for the love of family, from five hour drives every other weekend to keep our family together. I am from my dad’s heartbreaking stories of loss witnessed in a life-time of fire-fighting and service in the Vietnam War.

I am from wheelbarrows full of fuzzy caterpillars, play clothes and school clothes, and puddles you could jump right through.

I am from a house full of skeptics, wincing at street corner preachers, televangelists and abortion protesters, unconvinced that heaven could hold both a sinner and a saint. I am from youth leaders who never uttered a word about God or unfolded a prayer but always found time for flashlight tag. I am from that still small voice that whispered to me that we are all meant for so much more.

I am from the ferries of Bainbridge Island en route to Seattle and the leap of faith that crossed oceans for love. I am from Grandma’s Christmas goulash everyone pretended to love and the chocolate chip cookie dough that vanished before the cookie sheet appeared.

I am from first dates post World War II, running terrified from the theater when the opening scene exploded on the screen, the girl who could waltz in her sleep and double-clutch like a pro, and Clapper the Clown at pancake breakfasts, and walking in the fourth of July Parade to celebrate the honor of citizen of the year.

I am from puzzle time with old ladies, telling stories about their loves and the latest romance novel.

I am from beaches of drift wood and Hurricane Ridge, from hallways of frozen moments of awkward years, from dusty piano tops alongside Frank Sinatra and Etta James. I am from cold Christmas Eve nights on the porch listening to carols sung from fire truck speakers.

This is where I come from and I’m forever grateful..