Thursday, August 18, 2011

Writing Me: Where I'm From - Now

On Tuesday, I posted something called "Writing Me: Where I'm From." This is a meme in which writers reflect on their childhoods. My post expressed a lot of sadness and made some readers cry. One reader suggested I also write about where I am from now. What a magnificent suggestion. Here we go.

I am from a walking town and where are my glasses. I am from an old house, the two tomcats and a puggle.

I am from the carpool. I am from one parish and from another one. I am from the front porch dinner and I am from the Target parking lot. I am from the swim club. I am from School of Community.

I am from 18 years of a loving marriage. I am from desire and I am from satisfaction. I am from infertility and from not being able to look at other people's babies. I am from two miscarriages. I am from two nine-pound-plus babies. I am from the double brass bed I've had since high school. I am from renewing vows.
I am from the breast pump at the neonatal intensive care unit and from bagpipes at the baptism. I am from let's order Chinese. I am from Goodnight, Moon, Mother Goose and Simon and Garfunkel. I am from the double stroller at the bus stop. I am from Sunday Mass, toward the back, usually the left-hand side.

I am from leaving the 68th floor of Tower One of the World Trade Center on Sept. 11. I am from people are happy because Daddy is alive. I am from getting through instead of over. I am from prayer, from fear, from gratitude, from therapy and from living vows.

I am from the sledding hill at the factory.  I am from the front yard's wooden swing and the back patio's basketball hoop. I am from the chocolate factory around the corner. I am from playgroup. I am from what's the difference between soccer and baseball cleats. I am from the chamber music orchestra and high school jazz band. I am from get off the computer now and I am from is Daddy giving you boys handsome lessons. I am from the child-study team meeting.

I am from working at home. I am from working from home. I am from the community college faculty and I am from the unemployment checks. I am from graduate school in special education. I am from a large public high school. I am from the teachers' union. I am from several second-floor classrooms. I am from praying the Rosary. I am from the child-study team.

I am from the Book of Hours, Mark Twain and Fyodor Dostoevsky. I am from date night at the diner, from Billy Wilder movies on the wide screen and from supermarket roses. I am from laughter and I am from forgiveness.

I am from Beauty, from a Presence who summoned me into being from nothingness.


  1. This is the perfect compliment to your prior post. Love this!

  2. Thanks for sharing both posts with us.

  3. Nice,were are any of us from.
    Were are they from? or Who are they belonging too? is the first thing a lot of people in this part of Wales say as soon as an unknown person is mentioned, this will be followed by a (sometimes very) long and complicated explanation involving comparing Grandparents and often nicknames.In the small Valley Village were I used to live it was the single most common phrase I heard apart from "How be butt" the usual greeting.
    Of course if you couldn't supply at least 90% local (and that meant less than 1/2 mile)antecedents you would be a foreigner for ever. Strange in a village that had only existed since 1845 !None of us qualified as local.

  4. Beautiful, both poems. I love the difference between them, and how that difference reflects your life.

    I did a "I am from" poem 5 years ago and your posts prompted me to look for it.


  5. That's beautiful. This is an interesting exercise. I don't think I could do it without writing a whole book. Wait a minute, I did write a book....