How dramatic. That’s totally not me.
I am from styrofoam cups. From goldfish crackers and blue Kool-Aid. I am from the trees in the backyard (colossal, magnificent). I am from salmon-colored geraniums, the willow tree that droops on a rainy day and glistens when the sun shines.
I am from late-night blackjack and mustaches, from Billy and Leone. I am from the hard workers and big dreams. From “Children are to be seen, not heard” and “You’re wilder than a tree full of owls.” I’m from Be Thou My Vision, with a pocket bible and an unashamed love.
I’m from Amarillo and the Baxter Bunch, chicken fried steak and black eyed peas. From my grandfather landing on a wing and prayer, the consciousness my father lost at a bar…above a pig pen gate.
China cabinets filled with old report cards, delicate floral china plates replaced with pictures of prized show animals, dusty blue ribbons, and countless pictures of century-old Aunt Ruth, with her firey-red hair, and me smiling ear to ear.
I am from those moments and those smiles, grown before I sprouted, another lead off of the family tree.
I am me. Who are you?