I am from the busiest house in the neighborhood, family dinners that spilled from the dining room table onto living room couches, from chaos, strong wills, and the hidden trace of cigarette smoke on breath and clothes.
I am from the the scent of orange blossoms and the heat of the Santa Ana winds, from the Joshua Tree, sour grass, and the feel of the Pacific Ocean between toes.
I am from holiday batches of homemade Chex Mix and the fear that danger can be found in the most innocuous of places, from Christmas and Huckett and Lara, and even Norton.
I am from the darkness of depression, the struggle with addiction, the fierceness of an independent spirit, and traveling light in the interest of self preservation.
From 'God will provide' and 'love one another'.
I am from those who sprinkle and those who immerse, from three hours of meetings every Sunday without fail. I'm from religions claiming focus on strong family relationships, loving the sinner while hating the sin. I'm from unanswered questions and the abandoning of youthful beliefs. I'm from sacraments, covenants, purgatory, celestial glory and eternal damnation.
I’m from the City of Orange, from Mexican immigrants and New World explorers. I'm from Christmas Eve tamales and rosemary sourdough toast.
From the secretary who fell in love with the truck driving choir boy, the teacher who fell for his research assistant, and the man who made it 'Off-Broadway'.
I am from volumes of photo albums organized for decades then scattered amongst the grieving. I'm from boxes of letters, books, poetry and journals hidden in attics from judgmental eyes. I'm from seashells, and sand dollars and smooth glass rocks. I'm from schoolwork and projects, report cards and homemade gifts forgotten and tossed aside in anticipation for the next move. I'm from forsaking the old in search of the new, from turning your back and leaving behind.
Written in response to a prompt from Mama Kat's.
#2. Where I'm From.
#2. Where I'm From.
