where I'm from

I am from the wooded countryside, Little Debbie snacks and Grandma's homemade toast with cinnamon and sugar.

I am from a gray split level with a basketball hoop and a crunchy gravel driveway.

I am from The Cosby Show and The Smurfs.

Dad and Grandma - two weeks ago (Kensington school)

I am from lilacs and sunflowers, oaks and pines and crawly things.

I am from where the lakes begin and Runestone country. I am from lefse and lutefisk, but I never eat the smelly lutefisk. I am from cribbage players and golfers, ice cream lovers and hot dish makers. I am from Colleen and Dale and Helen and Glenn.

I am from humor with loud bursts of laughter and long naps in the recliner. I am from work hard and overcome and trials that make you stronger.

Mom's childhood home

I am from pull yourself together and you always belong.

I am from Covenant and Lutheran and Baptist traditions, family camp and Sunday school and sermons. I am from youth group road trips to Montana and the Ridgedale mall. (Hello JUNO lovers!)

I am from the hard road walked with dementia, diabetes, and debilitating strokes. I am from the faithful spouses that endured the pain and held the hands and gave the baths and their lives. I am from my Mother's tumor, removed from her skull but never far from our hearts. I am from her best friend's dying moments with Cardinals soaring while my Mom held her hand.

I am from a mother who survived and thrives and travels and lives. I am from a father who survived and thrives and lives.

I am from calloused working and hands and pushing through and addictions left behind.

I am from the lumber yard owner who survived a fire and the mail carrier with mail carriers never get old, they just lose their zip hanging on the wall.

I am from still nights filled with the deafening and soothing noise of croaking frog choruses.

I am from the sounds of night trains rattling the house while rocking back to sleep.

I am from the dead of winter that stiffens your joints, your clothes and even your hair.

I am from the place my Grandma Helen was found one of the nights she wandered off, confused and forgetting.

I am from small towns where people come together to search and find and hold each other up. I am from a woman that sat in a dugout and then a nursing home with faith and love and a tear rolling down her cheek at the sight of me, even when only her heart knew me.

I am from good people and hard journeys, orphaned grandparents and overcoming. I am from footsteps hard to follow but best to follow with imprints in the dirt that help me find my way.

I have one last Grandparent left here with us and she's smart as a whip and funny and good. Going to her door is going home for all of us.

It is where we're from.

(A big thank you to Amy from The Never-True Tales for the inspiration. I had all of these nostalgic pictures and no idea what to say. Until I read Amy's Where I'm From post. Thank you, friend!)

1 clicked right here to comment:

Chrysanthemama said...

I'm from so many of these things too. Covenant, Lutheran, small town Minnesota, frozen hair, etc. I keep going back to this post and each time it puts a lump in my throat. The journey you are on is an amazing one. It is incredible how God uses us through our ups and downs. Even though we've never met, please know that I am so proud of you and will continue to pray for you through this season.

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