Where I'm From

I am from laptops and headphones, from 19-hour

phone calls and Avatar: The Last Airbender marathons.

I am from the second to last house on Alma

Drive, where the snow doesn't completely melt in

the front yard until May.

I am from the leaping grasshoppers in the front

yard and the jumpy crickets and frogs in the

back,

the forest in the backyard, where it was easy to

play hide and seek and not get found.

I am from many Thanksgivings at Memere's, at the

children's table with distant cousins who ate

their boogers, and a hard-of-hearing great-

grandfather who survived World War II,

from Linda and Barry and Don and Uncle Sean.

I am from the Christmas dinners between only my

Mother and me, being grateful for everything we have,

from "feed the cats" and "put away the dishes".

I'm from Maine and France and Germany, from

chicken nuggets and spaghetti with garlic bread.

I am from the photograph slideshow on the coffee

table, marking the stages of my life and the

memories I'll never forget.