I Am From

I am from giant pine trees that scatter sap and needles everywhere; from Dunkaroos, and Push Up Pops and oatmeal on cold winter mornings.

I am from the house that used to be red with peeling paint, shag carpet in the kitchen and gas stoves, and a room that's always colder than the rest of the house.

I am from the rose bush in the front yard, flowerpots that will touch the sky, and rock gardens that can easily be boulders when you're a kid.

I am from Santa wrapping paper and angels on top of the Christmas tree; I am from my Mom who tries so hard, Grandpa who will do just about anything, and Grandma who is easily swayed by a pouting lip.

I am from the easily angered, yet easily forgiving and the ones who are very proud of me, deep down inside.

From "I told you a week ago to clean your room!" and "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."; from "I love you this much," and "I love my Amber, and my Amber loves me."

I am from two sides of Catholics and Sunday morning Mass, from Catechism after school, baptism, first communion, and confirmation; from not hiding my faith, but embracing it.

I am from the longest, coldest winters of Michigan and living through these rough times; from turkeys on Thanksgiving, and Grandma's burned biscuits on Christmas.

From sledding into a creek in winter with Katie, to swimming in the lake with Katie in the summer; from a huge family that is crazier and more amazing than anything you could think of.

I am from taking pictures and writing stories and reading books and never finishing a movie with my best friend because we talk too much; from my little black dog and my evil black cat, from the people who matter and the person who doesn't. From trying too hard and loving with all that I have. I am from love and happiness and hardship and greatness. But I am lucky to be here, to be from these amazing things.