"Where I Come From" revisited

I was just going thru my archives, actually looking for another post that I was going to link to for a reader of mine, when I stumbled across this one. I'd forgotten I'd written it and I think now would be a nice time to put it on here again since I've been getting so many new readers lately. It kind of gives you a 'grass roots' look at me, to see where and what I do come from. Plus, August is the month both of my parents were born and both are gone now. This is a little tribute to them because this is what they gave me, a solid foundation on which to build the life I have now. This photo? I found it on the web when I did a search for this river, one near where I grew up and one I spent endless summer afternoons swimming in. And, for many personal reasons I don't care to go in to this evening, I am feeling a bit nostalgic. Well...a lot nostalgic. I hope some of you new readers will return the favor and post a similar entry so I can know where you come from, too.

I come from peaceful swimming holes...picnics on a hot summer day.

I come from mystical misty rain forests...lush ferns that glisten in a shaft of sunlight.

I come from New Hampshire. Massachusetts. France. Nova Scotia. Quebec. Sweden. England.

I come from mailmen and factory workers. Fishermen and mapmakers. War veterans.

I come from stay at home mothers. Writers. Thinkers. Feminists. Nurses. Farm women.

I come from small town neighborhoods. Freedom to play. To wander. To grow.

I come from the land of loggers. Hard drinkers. Hard workers. Hard players.

I come from a home full of brothers. Neighbor kids. Foster children. A room of my own.

I come from a rock solid educational foundation. Small school. Excellent teachers.

I come from endless outside games. Horseback riding. Bicycles. Forts. Snow.

I come from the ocean. Fishing trawlers. Hood Canal. Butter clams.

I come from ice cream cones. Dairy Day parades. Penny candy. 5-and-dime stores.

I come from paper dolls. Chatty Cathy. Skipper. Tammy. Barbie. Midge.

I come from my bedroom. Sunbonnet quilt. Cherry blossoms outside the window.

I come from books. Comic books. Music. Poetry.

I come from dinner at the table. Hand-washed dishes. Laundry on the clotheslines.

I come from love misunderstood. Misdirected. Confused. Hidden in layers. But love nonetheless.

I come from God, and He has directed my life.