When meeting someone new
The question almost always comes
Where are you from?
I hardly know how to respond
I spent my childhood in Utah
My adolescence in Kansas
High school in Michigan
College in Utah
Ohio, Nebraska, Ohio
So where am I from?
What place do I hail from and from whence was I hewn?
I am from her place.
My vibrant, bright and loving grandmother’s home.
I am from her house.
The land of my people smells delicious
Two trays of rhodes dinner rolls in the oven
At least two meats presented with a gravy boat
Wanda cookies baked with an abundance of love
The scents of warmth and care
Wafting around, inviting all to partake
I’m from a place of music and rich sounds.
Carols sung around an aging piano during Christmas
The deep, operatic voice of my grandfather
The radio always on when no one is there to hear it
Voracious laughter and playful conversation
The continual companions to the ear.
The phone calling to her hourly
Her voice reminding you she is praying for you
Loving you, reminding you to be your best self.
Our language is rooted in faith
Spoken loudly with an inviting cadence
A limited vocabulary is available
For response to a query of wellness
The proper response is traditionally translated as “ I’m fine”
My country is green, lush and inviting.
A long driveway hugged by a row of perfectly tended roses
Ushers you into the King’s kingdom
A garden bursting with the world’s sweetest peas
Peaches drip like rain, turning the grass to sticky mush
The cherry tree, the Brutus of this land, repentant of it’s betrayal
Gives apologetic shade to every backyard inhabitant.
Each holiday is markedly recognized by this tiny nation.
The lawn adorned with whirly gigs and all manner of decor
The trusty and fashionable stone goose festively enrobed
A tiny trinket on every available spot
dutifully reminding one of what holiday is being honored
Cups run deep with candy and chocolate
My people are a kind, hardy group
Each of our number treasured by our blessed matriarch and patriarch
An heritage of love and lineage of strength gifted to us from her and from him
The nation of kings pieced together
With indescribable love
My land now belongs to another
Our king and queen returned to their original home, returned to one another
At times, I ache to return to my native country
I am from her place, but really, I am from her
I see her woven deeply into my people
I am sustained by them, scattered we may be
What gratitude of mine it is to be hers
