Where I'm From
“Where I’m From”
I am from the area of sand dunes and steel mills and nowhere in particular,
From survivors of World War II and the Depression.
I am from jelly bread sandwiches with way too much butter because that’s what grandma and grandpa
liked, people I never knew but who were daily talked about.
I am from Andrews and Paulsens and it took me years to know there was a difference,
And the unmentioned Evans.
I am from California and Germany and United Airlines and far-away places, but no traveling.
I am from Laundromats and wringer washers and those porcelain bears from China.
I am from Garyton and from cemeteries and aunts I didn’t know were a generation removed.
And helping Aunt Harriett, who loved yellow roses, to steal pansies from graves to start her garden.
I am from the apartments and skinned knees and merthiolate.
I am from Barbie dolls and Girl Scouts and board games.
I am from birthdays which are a constant reminder of losing Debbie,
And the sky-blue Biscayne and the countless hospital trips to Chicago.
I am from hamburger noodle casserole which was upgraded to Hamburger Helper,
I am of Methodists and Baptists and now Lutherans,
I am from carnivores except on Good Friday because Grandma Andrews did not eat meat on Good
Friday.
I am from religion consisting only of the 23rd Psalm and the Lord’s Prayer, because of Grandma Andrews.
I am from a small green house on the corner in a town where I don’t belong.
I am from the Ingots and Crusaders and playing clarinet in marching band because when she bought that ebony clarinet in 1954 for Jimmy she paid $250 and by God all four of us were going to play
` it!
I am from stories about cats Josie and Tigger and Amy.
I am from a shelf of Encyclopedias and other books that were never read but kept because there was
a story behind them.
I am from the Age of Aquarius, a true water bearer surviving two floods shortly after moving into my large
dream house.
Now I am from a family of three, individual souls but united.
Now I am from red roses, not yellow roses.
Now I am from SAI and DKG; this PEG is a writer with stories to tell and a director working on a new script: Me.
On the wall hangs photos of seven generations, five of which are no more. The dark green tin button box is tucked inside a sewing box in a closet, holding reminders of the cabinet sewing machine and those days gone by.
I know where I’m from.
I am a Region Rat.
--Peggy Glennie