Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Writing Me: Where I'm From


I am from five suburban acres and I'll give you something to cry about. I am from waiting.

I am from the Raggedy Andy lamp and the blue-flowered wallpaper and twin beds. I am from the radio under my covers and Jean Shepherd stories on WOR. I am from airplanes and passports and the country club swim team.

I am from the baby of the family and the biggest children's bedroom. I am from sitting on the roof, from nighttime train whistles and crickets and frogs. I am from the peach trees, a stream that is all my own, the big open field, the wooden swing, the hammock. I am from flashlight tag and kick the can.


I am from the block party that happened only once. I am from the renovated basement no one would play in. I am from birthday party relay races and Shirley Temple movies on snow days. I am from the Partridge Family, homegrown carnivals, lemonade stands and roller skates. I am from my brother's Lincoln Logs, Hogan's Heroes and model airplanes.

I am from overwhelmed. I am from angry and unpredictable voices downstairs. I am from piles of laundry and a mother crying. I am from thyroid cancer, lost siblings, au pairs, varicose veins, confusion, a forgotten brother, a sad sister, a troubled sister, and a spaniel who wasn't allowed outside the kitchen. I am from the sister who tidied my room, made my bed and shoplifted. I am from her stolen wallets, her blue jeans hidden in a backpack, her bloodied hand and a broken window. I am from my father's fatigue and disappointment.

I am from feeding the dog my vegetables under the table. I am from standing and facing the corner, saying an Act of Contrition during dinner. I am from being "hardly sorry" for having offended Him. I am from standing in the Confession line every Saturday. I am from sitting on the basement steps.

I am from staying in my room and out of trouble. I am from the weeping willow.








18 comments:

  1. Wow. Just...

    oh, this touches my heart, Allison.

    ReplyDelete
  2. wow, allison. this is awesome. HUG - sue montroy

    ReplyDelete
  3. whoowhaablabingbolblblblbllblabubububub....I'm speechless! My babbling translated means "Gorgeous!" Good job Allison, resonates with me...I wish I could write thusly. :)

    ReplyDelete
  4. I am afraid I don't understand a lot of the references due to being from the UK not American, I'm assuming your parents were strict and your family was complicated. As a piece of writing it has power, Prayers and hugs.
    My sisters and I have talked over what our parents were like many times and we have very different memories, they were not perfect but they always treated us equally and loved us very much. We miss them.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Amazing, Allison. What a spectacular window into your world and remembrances...

    ReplyDelete
  6. What a beautiful and tragic poem about where you came from. God is so good to have taken your situation and weaved your life into a beautiful tapestry. I always think I can't change my past or how I was raised, but I can make sure it won't be the same with my children. I think you have done the same.

    Love the darling photo!

    ReplyDelete
  7. This is very moving and a little sad. No positive experiences of the beauty of the faith in your childhood? With all our flaws, we are blessed with the possibility to witness something beautiful to our children. I want my children to know that they are "from God."

    ReplyDelete
  8. Thanks for reading, friends. As a child, I did not find comfort or solace in faith; the older I become the more I understand that God has created each and every one of us with immeasurable love.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Allison, of all the beautiful, amazing and remarkable things you have written - and you have written many, none come close to this.

    My eyes are filled with tears. What a gift you have. What a story you have to tell.

    Thank you. Thank you - this is generous.

    ReplyDelete
  10. A really amazing piece of writing. So raw and true. And, without putting it exactly these words, so clearly shows how families are complicated...to put it mildly. Makes me want to write one of my own.

    ReplyDelete
  11. I am sorry, Allison. A lot of pain. Nobody should remember childhood as painful. I am glad that your life today is full of joy (and teens!)

    ReplyDelete
  12. What a moving piece, my friend. Must have been cathartic to write. Thank you so much for sharing.
    - pam

    ReplyDelete
  13. Elaine: You really should. You have had powerful experiences too, (most of us have) and the "template" makes this easy to write. Let me know what you decide.

    @Michelle: My life is more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. God is good!

    ReplyDelete
  14. Allison, so honest and so sad. I yearn to comfort the lonely, bewildered child that you were. At least you carved out some happy experiences for yourself -- the peach trees and the steam that was all your own. don't think we ever really "get over" those childhood hurts, but we frame them differently and try to understand them and not do the same to our own children. I hope you and your siblings have moved on to happier lives. Maybe you could write something about where you are from today? Take care.

    ReplyDelete
  15. Dear Anon: What a lovely idea! I am going to give that a try. Thanks.
    Allison

    ReplyDelete
  16. So much! I love how this illustrates how many things large and small go into the person we become. The really big stuff,the cancer and angry voices to the crickets and stream. It is so much! But then again it IS a lifetime.

    ReplyDelete
  17. Thanks for reading May. You might see I also posted a "Where I'm from - now"

    ReplyDelete