Who is Mrs. Shaw?

I am from a house built with grandpa’s loving hands

From mom’s squeaky chair and a Siamese cat cuddled at her feet

From unlocked doors beckoning every neighbor's child

I am from the roots of a magnolia tree planted when I was young

From a bellowing scanner summoning dad to the next fire

From a basketball court filled with games of pig

I am from Mr. Herrera’s sculptured lawn

From Mrs. Lodges’ tulips begging me to pick just a few

From the lively music of the El Ranchito with monkeys hanging in a cage

From a neighborhood of houses built by my grandfather, filled with laughter and joy

I am from a daughter of a carpenter and a son of an orchardist

From emigrants of a wagon train and builders of homesteads, farms, and orchards

From grandparents growing up during the Great Depression doing everything to just get by

From a bloodline with roots dug deep into its home town

I am from songs of John Denver, nursery rhymes and little girl chants

From greasy tacos, homemade chili, fresh baked apple pie and juicy Hermiston watermelons

I am from the seashore of Depoe Bay; Sunday drives in the mountains and back roads

From 9 kids, 4 adults, and cat in a truck and trailer going to Disneyland

From the patience of a grandfather teaching fishing and removing locked bathroom doors

I am from the sticky yellow pages of a picture album, photos once uniformly attached with little black tabs

From grandma’s creaky cellar door, hiding jars, boxes and wedding dresses

From monuments of days gone by erected peacefully in remembrance of lost loves

From a cookie tin filled with cracker jack toys once played with by my great grandma

I am from a house build with grandpa's loving hands

From a house turned into a home filled with a family's cherished memories, for generations to come.