Where Am I From?

Where Am I From?

a poem by Amanda Bregel

I am from moving trucks, hugs, and military salutes.

I am from the home filled with a teacher, a Naval preacher, and younger siblings who are pulled down the street by our large, yellow dog.

I am from the North Carolina crystal coast, the marshes of Florida, the cherry blossoms of Japan, the dull glitter of southern California, the dry air of Texas, and the crisp snow of Indiana, but always the well-manicured suburb, and the prideful military base.

I am from family dinners, where we would remember my father who was away serving his country. His spot at the table was desolate, but at that table my mother’s brown eyes would still sparkle while my brother and sister shared humorous anecdotes from their day. My father was still present within us all.

I am from bedside prayers and warm chocolate chip cookies.

From “Jesus Loves You” everyday and “Be nice to yourself” after tripping down the stairs.

I am from “Praise God from whom all Blessings Flow” singing in the church choir. From Sunday afternoon potlucks with the entire congregation. From military churches where people know that God and Country come first, and your family must come second.

I am from all over the world, but know Southern biscuits with gravy and Northern un-sweet tea.

From a mother raised by church-building Baptists from the North with too many mouths to feed, but a passion for the gospel that kept their hearts full at the end of the day. From a father raised by calloused Texans, and I am from a trio of kids who relied on each other with each moving van, new school, and new life to begin.

I am from halls filled with family photos, from a bright yellow kitchen stocked with homemade goodies, from a Craft and a Bregel, from corny jokes, from God, and from the heart.

I am from a past that propels me forward. I am from moving trucks, hugs, and military salutes. I am from love.

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