Using this prompt to fill in the blanks, I give you where I’m from….
I am from spatzle made by hand in a cast iron skillet, from authentic Gummi Bears that have crossed the ocean, and wooden stacking dolls with hidden surprises inside.
I am from the Cape Cod filled with country boys and Monday Night Football with Bocephus and the Super Bowl Shuffle. From broken cars that fill the front yard, and rednecks racing in circles on a track.
I am from the silk roses on a kitchen table, from buttercups that reveal a passion for butter. From honeysuckle so strong it stays with you, and Easter mornings filled with yellow daffodils.
I am from the Island of Misfit Toys and a quirky sense of humor, and Dorothy, Oma, and Bass. I am from family gatherings at Grandma’s, uncles preaching in other states, and brothers playing practical jokes.
I am from “you need to get those kids to church” and no pants on females allowed. From “don’t slam the door” and “you will be late for your own funeral”.
I am from the Shalt Not Baptists, rigid in rules yet strong on faith. From those not afraid to raise their hands in praise, filled with grace, and wrought with love.
I’m from Virginia is for lovers and Germany, baked ham and hot apple cider. I’m from Fredericksburg and Ireland, shamrocks and the Blarney Stone.
I’m from the World War II American hero and his German frau, making the front page of the Washington Post because he married the enemy grandfather, and the stories my grandmother told of overseas.
I am from the photo albums, and framed pictures on the wall, passed down from generation to generation over the years, sharing our smiles, our school years, our missing teeth. From an ancient and yellowing wedding photo, to the birth of a newborn babe.
This is where I am from, and where I am from makes me who I am.