I am from 70s Suburbia and swimming pools.
I am from tinkly drinks on the rocks and smoke-filled parental cocktail parties.
I am from a green station wagon named Lucy and the soothing sound of her wipers against torrential rains.
I am from all-day kickball with the boys and cardboard sliding in the hills.
I am from fake vomit and whoopie cushions and other covet-worthy items advertised in the back of comics.
I am from skateboards and scabs on the knees.
I am from thick morning fog and Santas in surf shorts.
I am from miles of walking. Years of searching.
I am from treeforts and buckeyes and drinking from the garden hose.
I am from gawkiness and glasses and adolescent angst.
I am from change and reinvention.
I am from bonfires and bears. From bartenders and beer.
I am from artists.
I am from haunted houses. From haunted lives.
I am from great love. And great loss.
I am from strength and resilience, and ultimately blind faith.
I am from never give up.
This is my very first contribution to San Diego Momma’s PROMPTuesday. She’s such an amazing writer, that, truthfully (and she knows this) I’ve been a bit intimidated to participate until now.
This week’s rules, in her words, are as follows: This week, tell us who you are, what makes you, where you’re from. Share your memory fragments, those visions in your head, those figments that make you, you. What bits and pieces formed your whole? Are you whole?