Tuesday, April 25, 2006
I AM FROM......
I Am From....
I am from humid, hot muggy weather. Summers that felt like they'd last forever, but never did. From Mom's homemade sugary sweet oatmeal served with dry toast (YUM!) and bacon, oh how I loved the bacon.
I am from thrift store clothing and goodies. I am from sheets and towels that rarely matched. I am from pots and pans bought at garage sales, and used lovingly for years.
I am from the 4th house on the right, the one that looked for the most part like everyone else's house, but it was so different. It was the house where EVERYONE wanted to play. I am from the house with the ONLY yard with no trees, perfect for kickball.
I am from a family of forced occasional church goers. From a group that could not, would not sit still in church. I am from inquisitive minds, sarcastic tongues and skilled hands, and loving hearts.
From “your face will freeze that way” and “ knee high to a grasshopper.” From a long hallway filled with pictures of our lives.
I am from a father who worked hard and asked himself every night if he tried his hardest. From Mexican, Spaniards, Native Americans and down-home Louisiana.
From mom’s homemade everything. From recipes that she'd learned from a hard life on a farm. And recipes that she'd sweet-talked out of my Mexican grandmother, who took too long to learn to like her.
From the grandmother who didn't speak my language, but I learned hers.
I am from not enough pictures but enough to show what I looked like. From my mother's book collection which spawned my love of reading. From my father's love of Reader's Digest which inspired my vocabulary.
From "it's my turn in the bathroom" to "She did it." and "You, too."
From poetry written in sadness and loneliness to watching "MASH" and "Benny Hill" with my dad late at night.
I am from Adam and Vinia Mae, who loved me when when I didn't deserve. Who did the best they could.