I’m From …

Today marks the beginning of my 49th year on this planet (I know — I don’t look that old (thank you ;), and WOW — next year I turn the big 5-0!!!). In honor of my birthday, I wanted to post some deep, meaningful post. But with so many other things going on right now (another post, another day…), my philosophical self seems to be on a hiatus, leaving only the “let’s-get-through-today-in-one-piece-shall-we” self. But as luck would have it, I was looking through blog ideas I have stockpiled like a squirrel in the fall, and I came across this poem that I wrote 13 years ago. It seemed extremely appropriate for the occasion, and will be my philosophical self’s saving grace. The plan is to also include this poem at the ending of my book when it is complete, “Four Days to Family”.

The poem was written as a beginning of the school year activity (thirteen years ago, when I was 36 years old, at the same time I was finding my birth family I was also a Principal at an elementary school in Henrico County, Virginia). I still really enjoy reading it, as it sums up so many of the memories that make me, well ME!  🙂 It is the epitome of my Road Leading Home!

I hope you enjoy, and feel free to have a piece of cake with us this evening.  😉

from http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.php?image=149504&picture=postcard-birthday-2

I’m From

I’m from ~

Battling tops on Sunday afternoon visits to Uncle Joe’s, the Monkeys talking handpuppet,

                       the Campbell’s soup kids on an autumn day,

                                               and Jordache jeans in junior high.

I’m from ~
The Pennsylvania Appalachian mountain spring water,

to Vermont Northeast Kingdom snow drifts,

to sprawling Central Virginia tobacco fields.

I’m from ~
Family reunions with kibbee, grape leaves, and halupki,

women laughing and cleaning together in the kitchen while men sleep – bellies full and football blaring – around the living room.

I’m from ~
Cigar smoke wafting around Uncle Gus’ ceiling, circling endlessly,

while Mike and I “drove” the dining room table beneath its strong fortress,

joining the cigar revelrie while “smoking our grape leaves” below.

I’m from ~
“Where’s the beef?!”,

my swimming hole a mile hike back Stoystown Creek,

know-it-all teenagers to always smiling infants.

I’m from ~
Meeting my birthmother at the airport for the first time after                       leaving her father at the airport waving goodbye to his only three great-grandchildren – knowing it could be our first and last meeting.

Knowing I was meant to be.

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