I am from Cabbage Patch dolls, from Schwinn bicycles and Tony Bennett playing on the record player.
I am from the blue Victorian house on the corner, my bedroom situated in the tower, the big front porch with the swing, and the giant wood burning stove heating the rooms during the cold Colorado winters.
I'm from aspen trees, geraniums planted in pots and the backyard garden, the lilac bushes heavy with blooms, their fragrance filling the house.
I am from playing canasta and opening presents on Christmas Eve, from freckled skin, from one family who can trace their lineage back for generations and another who would rather leave the history in the past.
I am from the grudge holders and the if you see a friend in need give them what you have.
From Because I said so and Make sure you have a quarter for the payphone.
I am from going to church three times a week. From raised hands, bedtime prayers and having faith as a small, small child.
I'm from the Rocky Mountain west, sun tea, homemade cherry pie and steaks hot off the grill.
I am from the woman who could sew anything and the man who could sell ice to an Eskimo and also drop a hook into the water and immediately catch a fish. From always being known as one of "the twins," the moon-shaped scar on my cheek the only way people could tell us apart when we were young.
From the box of unlabeled family pictures tucked in the corner of my mother's closet.
I am from the little girl so unsure and insecure, not yet realizing who she really was. Through marriage, moving away and birth she became what she was born to be.
I saw this over at Adventures in Babywearing several weeks ago and thought I would give it a try. Thanks to Stephanie for the idea. Get a template to write your own here.