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Where I'm From
Bright frilly shirts, long flowing skirts, flower topped sandals I hated giving up for boots in winter.
Long Native American dark brown hair tied into braids.
Big brown eyes that earn compliments, never understanding why.
This is who I am.
This is where I am from.
I am Sonja.
I am from Grandma’s flourishing, pink, red, and white tulip garden,
the imaginary fairy garden my childish mind created as I swung from my rope bound red swing,
I am the flower child my Woodstock era parents brought into this world.
I am from melodic brass instruments I heard as a child,
the booming symphonies I watched big brother play trombone in,
I am the musician I dreamt of.
I am from the lonely, isolated, melancholy homeschooling,
the fright felt in the crowded public school hallways,
I am the “normal” person I dreamt of being.
I am from the eating disorder,
the tears standing on the old bathroom scale seeing false images in the mirror,
I am the girl who overcame an acidic, catastrophic, fatal addiction.
I am from the mind crippling alzheimer's,
Mother’s frustrated tears and her mentally unstable father,
I am the granddaughter who lost her last grandparent.
I am from father’s terminal illness,
the watching daddy’s face get paler, his body more feeble and not understanding why,
I am the daughter weeping over the collapsing end of her father’s life.
I am from newborn nieces and nephews,
watching them grow from chubby cheeked infants to intelligent young adults,
I am auntie Sonja.
I am from the honors choir audition,
the screaming joy when was accepted and the fear after,
I am accomplished.
I am from the family home,
the “Good Mornin’ Sunshine” and “Smile Darlin’, the whole world will smile with you.”,
I am loved.
Dark oversized sweaters, skinny jeans, sandals year round.
Long Native American dark brown hair swung off to one side.
Big brown eyes that earn compliments, I understand why.
This is who I am
This is where I am from.
I am Sonja.
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