My favorite writing pose
I am…
I am a forty-something woman who lives in the midst of cornfields and dreams of mountains. I work at an amazing Fortune 100 company and aspire to be an amazing writer. I am a daughter, sister, aunt, and friend who worries that I am not enough of any of them. I am still infatuated with Vincent D'Onofrio and have a rather impressive girl-crush on Nigella Lawson. I am vegan, liberal and a firm believer in equality, compassion, charity and inclusion. I believe we are here to love and support, not chastise and judge.
I am from…
I am from wood-paneled station wagons, Ivory soap, and family dinners with Walter Cronkite in the background. I am from the white house with the two car garage, on the corner across from the village park, with its oaks and pines and wooden merry-go-round.
I am from the house with two evergreens and two maples in the front yard and from the neighborhood with crocuses in the spring, vine-ripened tomatoes in the summer, burnt orange leaves in the fall and icicles hanging from garage eaves in the winter.
I am from waking early and working hard, sturdy German stock with hearty food, hearty laughs, and hearty hugs. I am from large families, kids’ tables at holidays, and love so strong that sometimes you feel you can’t breathe.
I am from the “Help your sister”, “Share what you have”, and “Don’t make me stop this car” method of parenting. From the “Give it your all”, “Play fair”, and “Be good” way of thinking.
I am from years of Sunday school, weekly Bible studies, and summers of Vacation Bible School. I am from a small congregation in a close-knit community, some of whom still send me cards for my birthday. I am from people who showed me that God is Love, but even more importantly, Forgiveness.
I am from tiny towns sprinkled in cornfields, from family reunions in the shelter house, potluck dinners in the church basement, and summer barbecues in the backyard. I am from lemonade in the summer, hot chocolate in the winter, and iced tea all year ’round.
I am from large, heavy photo albums of baby pictures and first days of school, shoe boxes overflowing with recipes scribbled on napkins and the backs of envelopes. I am from the big white family Bible sitting on my mother’s hope chest, from which the occasional Polaroid or handwritten letter peeks out.
I am from these things and yet I am not these things. They exist now only in the memories of the ones with whom I share them. I am stronger from their lessons, influenced by their example, and driven to honor them. I am--because of them.
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