I am from 70's sitcoms, from Popsicles and swingsets.
I am from the cheery pink bedroom with daisy wallpaper, infused with Tinkerbell perfume.
I am from the lilac bushes with their heart shaped leaves and the weeping willow tree that
perpetually shed it's branches.
I am from Sunday pasta and perfectionism, from Judy and Florence and Irma.
I am from the cleaners and the gardeners.
From "You're so lucky," and "Eat something. You'll feel better."
I am from the pure white communion dress and veil, the converted Catholic mother and agnostic grandmother. I am from "God is love."
I'm from Portland, Maine and the hardy New Englanders and the Polish Pennsylvanians, pressure-cooked vegetable and peirogis. From the grandmother who walked miles to work in the shoe factory, the mother who walked as far to bring her an umbrella on rainy days, and the grandmother who worked at Grant's and played Yahtzee until the wee hours of the morning with her mother.
I am from the black and white photos and tintypes in my grandmother's attic. I am from the scrapbooks and photos waiting in my bedroom. I am from the boxes of momentos and cards tucked in my closets. I am from the poems and journals from my youth that are hidden safely away.
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