Where I’m From….

I am from crisp, cool, fern filled woods, bright spring green apples, squishy vineyard grapes, and swings.

I’m from the soft velvety green grass on my feet, baby doll days under the weeping willow.

I’m from playing fort, digging snow castles, sardine sandwiches at the rocks overlooking our fine city.

I’m from fall colored leaves of crimson, gold and orange. Nannies fish with onions and pumpkin pie football games and Weatherly Hill climbs.

I am from Mom‘s family picnic with barbecue, butter pound cake, and walnut chocolate. Elegant and fun parties in the blue room. Laughter with Asti abound. Always room for another plate.

Cookies and tasty cakes, coffee for all.

I am from dad‘s stories of staying with the pack, the harder I work the luckier I get, day trips to car shows, garden shows, boating fantasticos. Speeding ticket shopping spree, tennis matches that brought us to our knees. The big fish that got away with our boat. Skiing the bumps, and the blacks always heads up with Wallenda style landings.

I am from wind, whipping clacking ice trees. Liver and onions, a top mashed potatoes! Christmas carols in thigh high snow

Toboggans down the hill. Sleeping till the birds wake me, sunrise in the east.

I’m from down in the valley corn on summer nights, ice, cold, watermelon and Disney nights. Ice cream rides until the sun sets.

I’m from the green paint on the windowsills, “catch me if you can” Grandpap, apple pie sparkly eye, Granny. Sharp as Gillette Pop Pop. Smooth story, tall tales and red velvet cake Pop. Nannies shot glass of lime soda and peanuts on a Saturday night “Titanic “ sleepover.

I’m from growing up together, building our lives in the ebbs and flows of nature, walking together, singing different parts of the same song seeking harmony.

I’m from my children as sure as they are from me. Hope, faith and love weaving through our lives.

I am from Merry-go rounding with denial and awareness. Decades of effort and Summit not reached. Gratitude for all.

I am from the vacuum of fear that lets no one in and knows all things. Where is my God?

I’m from trading roles with my articulate grandson.

Who’s caring for who? Loving again is taking a chance. But love is like rain. It just comes.

I am from continued meetings with friends who love me in a way no one else can ever love me. Listening, holding space for me, safe and nurtured.