I am from

Rebecca and Lissa inspired me to try my hand at this.  The template linked at Lissa's blog makes it really simple. I found the exercise of writing it very thought-provoking.  I'm going to have my children give it a try!

I am from...

I am from bicycle helmets long before they were required by law, from Garanimals, and much-coveted Limited jeans.

I am from many different houses, none very far from a Naval base and always on the road to the beach, where we would stop every day at a roadside stand for fresh peaches and “squirty tomatoes.”

I am from the seashore, the rocky Newport cliffs, the cabana at the beach, the sand dollars of South Carolina, the swimming lessons with Grandpa off the coast of Long Island.

I am from pumpkin bread at Thanksgiving and always talking with one’s hands, from four generations of Lizette, Lisette, and Elizabeth, all of them teachers and sticklers for style.

I am from stand up straight, act like a lady, and keep your house clean.

I am from a mother and grandmother who believed in Catholic education and spoke with perfect grammar.

I’m from a Naval hospital in Rhode Island and a frequent childhood visitor to other antiseptic corridors, my head wrapped in bandages.

But I am rooted in Italy, dripping with olive oil and smelling of basil, recognizing much too late the rich heritage of many great aunts, all of whom talk with their hands and smell like tomatoes and basil.

I’m from waving cloth diapers from those rocky cliffs while Daddy’s ship pulled away into the vast sea, from visits with Nanny where I ate blueberry breakfasts in a Clorox-clean kitchen, from playing house—and dreaming dreams-- for hours with my little sister (and only constant childhood friend), if only to keep her from running down the street, wearing nothing but a wig.

I am from a storage room on St. Dennis Drive whose shelves were lined with canned tomatoes and homemade strawberry jam and are now dissembled and dispersed, sending wedding dresses, spelling bee ribbons, and fading pictures of gap-toothed girls at Disney to homes in houses bigger and fuller than those we ever dreamed, homes, that, surprisingly are much too far from the sea.

Kindred Spirits

I was just blessed with two days of cherished friendship.  My best friend from college came to visit.  Her husband had a business trip a few hours away and he and my husband jumped through some big traveling hoops to make it possible for Jan to spend the time at my house.

We talked and talked and talked. There was some looking back, way back, to our days together at the University of Virginia.  We remembered learning to write a unit study and not learning to manage a classroom.  We talked about the twaddle we sat through and we appreciated the teachers who really did inspire us.  She's now a teacher and an administrator a small classical school.  (Hey, me too ;-).  Funny how we both discovered Latin at the same time, far, far from the grounds of that school which supposedly embodies the Thomas Jefferson Education. We giggled with my children about a ridiculous four credit course entirely devoted to rubber cement and exacto knives.  We cleaned out my learning room and pored over books and started planning yet another unit. I showed her the world of lapbooks (and we laughed some more about proficiency in cutting and pasting). We traded ideas and solved each other's problems.

But it wasn't all "professional."  My husband marveled at how we could pick up right where we left off fifteen years ago, sharing stories and hearts and souls.  We had long talks that left me feeling full.  This time, though, there were new dimensions. We were able to look back with some perspective on mistakes made and lessons learned.  And we were able to look ahead with considerably more confidence than either of us had when we were 19.

Finally, there was the dimension the men in our lives brought to our friendship. Jan knew Mike when we were in college.  She oohed and ahhed over my engagement ring and helped me plan my wedding.  But I never knew her husband, except through letters and cards and phone calls.  On her final night at my house, he came to stay. He's perfect for her and I so enjoyed getting to know him.  The four of us stayed up talking way too late and I thought with a little pang how it just seemed like we'd all been great friends forever--and then how far away they really live.

Still, I sit here tonight amazed by God's provision.  After what has easily been the loneliest time of my life, He brought my husband and hers together to make it possible for us all to truly fill up on friendship.  Amazing.  Really.