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.
