Where I'm From

I am from big foreheads, hairy brows, and long legs.

I am from late-night games of Apples to Apples,

            when the rain poured outside, Norah Jones played inside.

I am from Jack Johnson’s Banana Pancakes

and Mamma’s homemade black bean tortilla casserole.

I am from endless containers of vitamins and supplements,

            Daddy took them daily.

I am from lost T.V. remotes,

            we kept them taped to secure the batteries.

I am from bedtime readings of Lily’s Purple Plastic Purse

and Junie B. Jones surviving first grade—Mamma was the reader.

I am from my older brother telling me I’m beautiful,

            and that I need not listen the boys in my Spanish class, who weren’t too cute either.

I am from Crazy Aunt Catherine and her living up to the name.

I am from Mamma’s Christmas magic cookie bars and presents under the tree,

            never a prayer spoken.

I am from Saturday soccer games, and two layers of stinky socks.

I am from trips to Hollywood video, and enticing Wanka Bars.

I am from kissing daddy goodbye,

from a family once shattered, now repaired.