I am from honey, from lavendar Febreeze and lemon candles.
I am from the over-used backyard playground.
I am from the purple iris blooming during spring, the soft, golden daffodils,
and the oak tree my sister and I raced to climb.

I am from Sunday afternoons watching football and misty morning runs with my dogs.
I am from the always—rights and never—wrongs.
I am from Philippians 4:13. Using the bible and prayers to find the light of God,
and the “any dummy can get a C,” “tomorrow’s a new day,” and “do the best you possibly can.”

I am from the long journey my grandpa encountered on his voyage to America.
I am from grains of Florida sand and crashing, blue waves hitting my legs if I stand too close.
I am from summer days on the lake, nights wrapped in blankets by the fire,
and rain boots splashing in enormous puddles.

I am from the tables and tables of decorative frames.
I am from the sappy cards, that although seem redundant, manage to make you cry.
I am from the petite, pink blanket my baby sister slept in,
and the glittering, blue dress my grandma wore when she was crowned prom queen.

I am from the first time I experienced something as magical as Walt Disney World.
I am from the excitement of last minute packing for an early morning departure. 
I am from the most intriguing novels, the ones in which you can’t wait to turn the next page,
and yet you still never want the story to end.