I am from homemade cookies, Keds sneakers, and lightning bugs.
I am from the cul-de-sac headquarters of the neighborhood BBQ, where friendly handshakes and childlike giggles paused only for a mom's still-warm and oozing blueberry pie.
I am from the grass, the fresh, crisp softness between asphalt-blackened toes.
I am from beach vacations and open arms, from farmers and coal miners and first-generation college graduates.
I am from the watermelon fights and "I'm sorry" hugs.
From "you can do anything" to "be careful what you say".
I am from Rocky Top and European immigrants, meat and potatoes.
From the playful cousins to the available parents, and the sister so close in age we could share friends as well as clothes.
I am from handmade quilts, memories captured on Kodak slides, and a place that will, within my soul, always be frozen in time.
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This post was crafted during Bloggy Bootcamp Atlanta. Thanks to MamaKat and Francesca who led the session and found the fantastic original post "Where I'm From" by writer/teacher George Ella Lyon.
6 comments:
I love this! It made me feel warm and fuzzy. I was in the other workshop. So glad that you shared this writing prompt!
It is funny how these simple little things like bookies and BBQs can show the most about our lives.
I love it!
I love it. I am Chicka's internal dialogue.
I still need to finish mine - loved yours - especially the "I'm sorry hugs"
I really love this! It gave me a nice feeling of really connecting with you. Thanks for posting this.
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