Where I’m From

I am from rows and rows of Nancy Drew books, from cans of Pledge and dusting off book shelves.

I am from the two-story house with wooden garage door and long driveway, with a wrap around deck, and children running around.

I am from the abundance of eucalyptus trees, california poppies filling a nearby field, from the natural creek running through culminating at my own little paradise of a pond.

I am from never opening Christmas presents until Christmas Day, and strong personalities, from Grandma Betty and Davids and Sals.

I am from family is forever and loving fiercly.

From respecting your elders and don’t say no unless you really mean it.

I am from Catholicism.  Going to Church every Sunday, fasting before mass.

I’m from New Orleans, but really California, and Ireland and Italy, Jambalaya and Chicken Marsala.

From the grandfather who met the grandmother during a time of war, and another grandfather who fought to join the military even when hearing loss would have prevented him.

I am from the shoeboxes of pictures my mother always promises to put into albums, from long lost journals and diaries.