I am from a gravel road, from Labrador Retrievers and Chevrolet trucks.
I am from the breezy wrap around porch, ten-acre horse farm and “pop-sound” of Rawling baseballs hitting my brothers’ gloves.
I am from magnolia trees for climbing and rose bushes planted in honor of loved ones who are no longer with us.
I am from good times and laughter, from momma and pops and two over-protective older brothers.
I am from playful teasing and meddling curiosity.
From “I bet you won’t’s” and “I told you so’s.”
I am from Mt. Tabor United Methodist Church where I found His higher ground.
I’m from Pfafftown, Neese’s Sausage Gravy and hamburgers and hot dogs cooked over a charcoal grill.
From a love with no end, best friends that made a farm of five.
This poem is obviously about my family. I am a firm believer in “if you don’t know where you’re from, then it’s difficult to know where you’re going.”
Without roots, how would you understand the term HOME? Can you have more than one “home?” I think so. As you grow older, homes change, families grow.
I can’t imagine the kind of person I’d be had I not come from MY HOME. My younger years have shaped me into the person I am today, and will continue to do so as I grow older.
In the future, I will model my home-life for my (future) family with hopes that life lessons and values will pass through generations.
I love my family and my home!