I am from family camping trips, from the sweaty Dutchman tent and the unhealthy, but mouth-watering food my grandpa would make.

I am from the country style house I call home.

I am from the smoky smell of a bond fire, the mosquito bites and the mud on my boats.

I am from the family camping trips, the laughing for reason, to the point we would cry, from the Stachowiak and Roncones and Depons.

I am from the carefree, laughing and loving family.

From “nothing is easy in life”, and “nothing is going to be handed to you.” 

I am from the family videos hidden in the musty basement of my grandmas house that we take out durring Christmas.

I am from the that phone call on June 7 from my grandma, the scene of my dad crying and the thought of my grandpa being gone. From my fun, energetic, and full of laughter family and the memories and inside jokes, when my uncle says kick butt or “awesomeee” we made with each other.