I Am From: An Exercise in Finding My Roots

I am from Colorado Mountains, rainbow trout, and lettuce hearts dipped in sugar…from fair and freckled, Mayflower rebels and poor Irish immigrants…from Kelly plaid, and the sonorous hum of bagpipes on parade… 

I am from lilac scented kindness, whiskery kisses, and fishing trips…horse fly bites and worms on hooks…from medium rare steak and baked potatoes…from watered-down sips of scotch and Danish pancake balls brown-bag tossed in bright, white, powdery sweet…

I am from a family of skiers and I loathe the cold, a family of campers though I prefer a hotel, a family who hikes Rocky Mountain high…while I dream of salt water waves and gritty sand between my toes…

…we are all from strong, black coffee.

I am from the educated and educators, manicured lawns and bravado…from beer and liverwurst…from pretense and paradox…performance and disappointment…

I am from grief to joy to grief and joy again, from short-cuts and secrets to redemption…the long way ‘round…

I am for decades now from enduring love and adventure, Irish mingled with Italian…from pasta and potatoes…from hilarity twinged with sorrow…

I am from his wind always at my back…His wind forever at our backs.