where I am showing off my new doll
I am from lunchboxes with glass thermoses
from smocked dresses and a canopy bed
I am from the one story ranch style
the smell of baking cakes
and the smell of anesthesia.
I am from the violet bed, bouganvilla and yucca
The maple tree whose long gone limbs
I remember as if they were my own.
I’m from dinner at the kitchen table and five children
from Ted and Evelyn
from Jim and Sharon
from George and Sophronia
I’m from Sunday Services and Revival meetings
and surgeries and Girl Scout meetings.
From playing in the schoolyard over the back fence
and football in the Autumn and baseball in the Spring.
I’m from “God is love” and “Love one another”
“Girls should be quiet”, “Why can't you sit still”
“What is that scar on your face?”
and “I'm A Little Teapot”
I’m from road trip vacations in the south
I’m from Norwalk and The Cherokee and The immigrants
Mashed potatoes and Americanized enchiladas
From my grandmother who was adopted to save a failing marriage
in a time when it was just a legal contract.
From understanding the phrase
“Babies don't make good glue”
From mother who wondered if she was enough
having been born to a woman who felt that about herself.
From painted china in my antique hutch
From artwork on walls
From the hands of women who left beauty in
a world where doubt and hurt colored their lives.
This is a part of SheLovesMagazine's Synchroblog: I Am From