My Turn!

This is so much fun, Val! I have to confess, though, that this reminds me of Mad-Libs for grownups. I'd love to get my sister to fill in the blanks, for example, and then let her in on the poem. :-)

Here's mine:

I am from the blue hair brush, from Merit Light 100s and RC Cola and 7Up.

I am from the dirt pile in the field where backhoes dug the foundation, from a red-brick-split-level, from the sharp concrete hearth of a fireplace that Dad still never lets Mom light.

I am from the jagger bushes, clover and powdery driveway dirt, the twiggy baby trees, dandelions and the deep, coffee bean tan and chlorine-red eyes from hours and hours and hours in the cold, blue backyard pool.

I am from shooting a rifle off the back porch at midnight on New Year’s Eve and oily, oily skin; from Grandma Nannie and Pap and two Aunt Barbs, two Aunt Lindas and three Uncle Ricks.

I am from the nurses who never take care of themselves and dancers who love the sight of a camera.

From “You’ll be better before you’re married,” and “Gina-I-Can’t.”

I am from Catholic school, where a nun told us that one day a bomb would release a gas that would kill all the people and animals in the world, but leave all the cars and buildings unharmed; where the ancient church the Italian families went to was razed and replaced with a monstrosity of 80s architecture and orange industrial carpeting.

I'm from Czechoslovakia and It’ly, kolatch and ravioli, from scrambled eggs with peas and wafers dipped in honey and pastine and polenta and ambrosia.

From the time Jamie toddled around the back yard chewing on a robin’s egg she’d found, the way Ricky sucked down packets of ketchup, and Gram’s journey from four heart attacks to kick boxer.

I am from black and white photos crammed in a sagging box, faded color prints jammed alongside them—nothing in any kind of order. I am from poses on stairs, peeking through curtains, and snaps of kids jumping and flipping and diving. I am from family photos taken in front of a rhododendron, on back porches, front porches, porch swings and pool decks. We almost never go anywhere—our photos are home.