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Where I'm From
I am from watching football on Sunday, rooting for the Bears but never the Packers.
I am from “It is what it is,” “life’s not fair,” and “get along with your sister.”
I am from boating on Nagawicka Lake by our house,
packing food and spending dawn until dusk in the sun.
I’m from the grey and white house on the corner,
with floor to ceiling windows and the porch we would sit on every time it stormed.
I’m from watching home videos,
laughing at my sister and I falling over on rollerskates at the age of 3.
I’m from not just singing in the shower, but performing my heart out.
I am from playing tennis against my biggest competitor, my dad, and having bragging rights when I win.
I am from grilling on the barbecue and eating on the back porch watching the sun go down looking like sherbert ice cream in the sky.
I am from late night bonfires and sticky s'mores eaten until we feel so sick to our stomachs we can’t possible eat another.
I’m from thick, curly hair and big blue eyes inherited from both my mom and my dad.
I’m from sarcasm, honesty, and happiness,
although not always in that order.
I’m from the time I broke my arm snowboarding in Colorado,
and my parents stayed with me the rest of the ski trip and never complained.
I am from moving to Wisconsin when I was 2,
but frequently returning to my home state of Illinois to remember where I came from.
I am from washing every car at my dads car lot, which is about 30, and knowing more about cars than most people do at my age.
I am from blasting the radio, opening the windows, and enjoying the ride.
I am who I am because of where I’m from.
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