I am from the nonstop, go-get em’ family,

from “you can never be too nice,”

from the four quadruplets each born two years apart,

from morning picnics under the silver maple in 

my backyard.

I am from homemade bacon fried rice,

from waking up to the lingering smell of apple pancakes,

from grilled ribs and brisket,

from “the greatest pecan pie” served at parties in

my backyard.

I am from bear hugs—ones that won’t let you go,

from endless encouragement that pushes me to get that starting spot on the field,

from dedication that doesn’t let me give up when I’m ready to pull my hair out,

from nights mastering the perfect slap bunt until the stars came out in

my backyard.

I am from under the silver maple,

the “greatest pecan pie,”

the slap bunting,

the memories made in

my backyard.