"where did you come from?"

i come from a two story yellow house with green shutters, purple and red geraniums, and a white magnolia tree. from shag carpet in green and brown and red, and a top step that made a perfect bed to lie and listen to mom and dad downstairs after i was supposed to be asleep. i come from a street that backed up to the park, just a 20 foot hike through the "woods" to the soccer fields, baseball diamonds, playground, and grassy hills to roll down. summer included family dinners grilled on the back patio, open windows in the kitchen, and the sounds of the nightly little league game. it was the era of big wheels and roller skates and thick sidewalk chalk on the driveway. the backyard was the perfect place for slip and slide, and mom would bring out huge slices of watermelon to eat under the yellow crank umbrella. family gatherings meant baseball on the diamonds, playing clogo drano on the tornado slide, and bocce ball in the field. i come from a region where winter meant snow, and the plows turned around in the playground parking lot, so we'd walk through the woods and dig tunnels in the mounds and go sledding in the ditch and pick burrs and twigs off our coats the whole walk home. i come from waking on saturday mornings to the sound of mom's piano students, and from helping prepare dinner on weeknights while she taught in the living room. i come from a home that was always open to friends, but where i was encouraged to imagine on my own. where the swing set became an obstacle course on american gladiators, but the cherry blossom tree was a quiet place to climb and read. i come from lullabys and backrubs with my big sister late at night, and knocking to one another in code through the walls after saying goodnight. i come from a house that faced east to watch sunrises, and backed west to watch sunsets. from a place for beginnings and endings. from a foundation for love and imagination, for simplicity and acceptance, for heart and a sense of home.