I am from porch swings,
from Lawson's Chip Dip and Crest toothpaste.
I am from the yellow house with the bay window,
smelling of home-cooked food.
I am from the pines,
the corn fields
that stretched to the heavens each summer.
I am from Sunday dinners and bad feet,
from Whitaker and Rose.
I'm from the hard workers
and those willing to help others,
from children are to be seen and not heard
and settle down.
I'm from sleeping under church pews
and weekly memory verses.
I'm from B-Town and Germany/Hungary,
from Hunky sausage and chicken paprikash.
From the church my grandfather pastored,
a father who broke his back, feet, and ankles
in a fall.
The thick green albums
plastered with photos,
bringing back the memory
of life, love, and special family time together.