I am from diamond willow, Pledge and an El Camino. I am from dresses with hidden pockets, Dippity-Do and "meetings".
I am from the orange and brown house on Farewell street that held the red striped couch, clean, warm, smelling of home cooked food.
I am from the spider plants, marigolds and a small yellow bird, strawberries, roses and smiling Mum in the sunflower house.
I am from Bidwells and Porters, strong women...one who divorced and ran a hat shop before women did such things, an Auntie I'm named after, farmers, truckers, hard working hands and re-using everything because it was useful.
I am from the chaos of many people and noisy hub-bub of voices spilling late at night over whoosh of kerosene, creak of cabin floors and crackle of woodstove.
From "life isn't fair" and "do it right the first time" and singing "Tell Me the Story of Jesus", (hymn #1 because it was our favorite).
I am from a cultish group that calls themselves "the friends" and "the truth". A community filled with friendship and untruth.
I'm from the land of the midnight sun, the hushed magic of Busby Island, hot cocoa time at Wasilla convention, lefsa and gingerbread with lemon sauce.
From the Uncle Danny who threw hard snowballs at cars when he was a boy and cracked my Grandpas windshield, the Dad who jumped out of a jeep to try and avoid trouble but got into more and the Mum who fell in love with my Dad when she was 16.
I am from stories. Stories of all these people I am part of, stories of the past and the future, stories of truth and fantasy. I am from "Koala Lou I Do Love You" the night my mother told it in public and dedicated it to me, from "Goodnight Moon", "Where The Wild Things Are" and "Robbie" stories made up by my Grame, recorded on cassette tapes and shipped from Seattle.
I am from boxes all jumbled with photos and memories, dusty hummels, shells and bones from Busby Island, a quilt of my mother's clothing created after she died which stays near me every night and a ball my Grandma Sally sewed for me as a baby...they hold more than you would know when you see the worn surfaces, more than I can tell in a lifetime.
Zenmomma posted her own "Where I'm from" which inspired this post. The original idea for this meme was inspired by a poem, you can learn more about it here. I did a couple slight tweaks, because I could.:)