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.

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.