I Am

What is it that makes us who we are?
For a military child, that is a vastly different answer than many other children will ever be able to know.
Yes, it is a difficult life. There is a lot of loss.
But, there are so many small, brilliant joys, that bring beauty out of the seeming chaos of that life.
Here is some of all of it.


I am from packed up rooms

I am from different yards with
crabby old neighbors
and
mean old dogs barking everywhere, as my brother and I played in our tiny yard.
The trampoline was our favorite.

I am from a different neighborhood every 2 years,
with different ‘‘Neighborly’’ welcomes, including
dry cookies and phone numbers.

I am from Eleanor and Darryl slipping snickers bars
through the fence, acting as
My adoptive Grandparents,
and Melissa holding me close as I wept for My daddy.

I am from “we’ll get through this. Daddy will come home. He won’t stay in Iraq, he will come home.”

I am from blueberry muffins as a deployment coping regular, and
macaroni and cheese and
hot dogs.

I am from Latkes and Dumplings,
and tacos
and eggs with cheesy biscuits.

I am from the one journal that has never touched the inside of a packed up box, but was never finished, for they carry into another journal, instead of the last page.

I am from letters from friends I will never see again, who I feel guilty thinking about.

I am from learning how to say goodbye so I can say hello again.

I am from a ragged old doll teaching me how to love

I am from several sketch books, that are better than growth charts

I am from thousands of songs

I am from one ragged old dog,
who
hugged me harder than I ever hugged him,
who is losing his stuffing

I am from one Simon and Garfunkel song that daddy rocked me to sleep with

I am from a legacy of houses I will never forget, and make sure the next generation knows as well