My sister is probably the longest standing hero I’ve had. For as long as I can remember I’ve looked up to her, emulated her, and sought her advice. She’s a successful business owner, the best hairstylist I know, a phenomenal mother & wife, interior decorator, shopaholic, stand up comedian, singer, and now guest blogger.
She sent me this poem today she was asked to write about her story. It brought me to tears as I thought of our childhood & family, so I decided to pass it along. Thanks Care!
Where I’m from
I’m from sponge curlers, Melaluca oil, and the original Zack Morris phone.
I’m from the house with the basketball hoop, where the front door was always unlocked.
From the palm tree and the pool and jumping on the diving board to see if soccer practice had started.
I’m from wild goose chases, home videos, and bursting out in song.
From laughter, sarcasm, and surprises.
I’m from a Dad from the City and a Mom from the Sea.
From “Life is hard, then you die”, and “I like it better that way”.
I’m from the “Two Paths” sermon, and church every Sunday.
From grace and the Gospel.
I’m from the patchwork quilt of adoption, from Burmese Stacky Uppy and Buttermilk Apple Pie.
From a brother who taught me how to throw a baseball and a punch, and a sister who was the baby but taught me what it means to be brave.
This is where I’m from: pictures hang, prayers are heard, and wisdom is written in journals and on my heart.