I enjoyed “I Am From” posts by several bloggers so I decided to try my own. The ideas became so unwieldly that I settled on my Neal grandparents, and I sure didn’t stick to the template that started it all. (See below)
Who I’m From I was born on a Sunday morning, the first Neal grandchild, where church bells summoned worshippers to the nearby Presbyterian Church. I am from grandparents Kenneth (in overalls) and Ruby (in a cotton housedress and apron) who lived on a farm, whose front door was just for looks, from grandma-made patchwork quilts and a grandma-made brick patio by the back door, treated when I was little to chocolate frosting on a saltine, treasures behind a buffet door–toy tractors and horses and Disney comic books. I am from Grandma’s rotund barrel cactus bristling with round barnacles of its own, the mother one she sold for a dollar to a farm-to-farm salesman, right off the brick patio where he tried to make a sale, from shelves of canning jars filled with garden bounty, in an unfinished basement, next to a room of corncobs for the big furnace, where I taught Cousin Ken to dance Rock and Roll with jars of green beans and tomatoes as our audience. I’m from a Presbyterian youth choir, singing I Would be a Sunbeam and When Morning Gilds the Skies, and candlelit Christmas eve services. From a grandfather who sang with the local Methaquakaterian quartet and each Sunday counted his grandchildren in the choir. I’m from clan potluck Thanksgivings, where we cousins carried plates full of savory foods to enjoy around card tables in Grandma's sewing room, and fireworks on Grandpa’s July 5 birthday, which one time got out of control, and Grandpa remarked that he’d never seen Presbyterians move so fast.
Encouraged by these bloggers: “Giving Poetry a Chance: I Am From” on Writing from the Heart With Brian, “Echoes” on Victoria Ponders, “Polished Maple Tables” on Lake Arrowhead Lady Writer, and “I am From” on Baydreamer Writes. They were initially inspired by the delightful “Where I’m From” by George Ella Lyon, which you’ll find in two of these posts.
They just might encourage you to have fun with “I Am From” as well.
Template by George Ella Lyon: I Am From–to get you started!
I am from ________________ (specific ordinary item)
From ____________ (product name) and _____________ (product name)
____________ (adjective), ______(adjective), _________ (sensory detail)
I am from _____________ (plant, flowers, natural item)
_______________________________________ (description of above item)
I’m from ______________ (family tradition) and _____________ (family trait)
From ___________ (name of family member) and ______________ (another family member)
I’m from the _______________ (description of family tendency) and ________ (another one)
From ______________ (something you were told as a child) and _________ (another)
I’m from __________________ (representation of religion or lack thereof), __________ (further description)
I’m from ___________________ (place of birth and family ancestry)
_______________________ (a food that represents your family), ___________ (another one)
From the ___________ (specific family story about a specific person and detail).
Joy! I love your “I am From”. Every single word…and especially this stanza:
“from shelves of canning jars filled with garden bounty,
in an unfinished basement,
next to a room of corncobs for the big furnace,
where I taught Cousin Ken to dance Rock and Roll
with jars of green beans and tomatoes as our audience.”
Such a beautiful image to carry with me on this rainy morning. I only want to know what you and Cousin Ken were dancing to…
xo! ❤️😊❤️
Bless you, Vicki. I’d like to know as well. Maybe Ken remembers!
Love you, Joy! 😎❤️😎
Vicki, Cousin Ken says he thinks it was “Jingle Bell Rock”! Oh, this is fun!
This is so fun and delightful, Joy. I may give it a whirl. But not likely to conjure a world so well as you. I loved the idea of a “Methoquakaterian” choir.🙂
Oh, Eilene. Have fun with it! I started some ideas days ago, but more kept bubbling up, especially when I narrowed it just to these grandparents. I wish I knew the other quartet members!
Wonderful poem, Joy. The last stanza was fun.
Thank you, Edward. I just got a note from Cousin Ken himself, who remembered one of the quartet members. He also said our rock and roll song that day was “Jingle Bell Rock”!
Joy, I think it was “Jingle Bell Rock”! I did meet one other quartet member….Joe Cerwinske from Dallas Center. In fact I sang in our Presbyterian church choir with him for many years!
Oh, what fun! So was Joe Cerwinske a Quaker, Methodist, or another Presbyterian?
I loved this post, Joy. So creative and filled with heartwarming memories. Thanks.
Thank you, John. Once I got started, one memory led to another and it turned out to be such fun!
Oh, my goodness!!! This is a marvelous poem from start to finish! Wow! This actually made my morning. I so love the lines about Christmas and also Thanksgiving with the card tables in your grandmother’s sewing room. This poem is an absolute gem, and it touched my heart.
Oh my, Linda. Your comment sure made my day! Once I got into it (narrowing things down), I had such fun with it and one memory would lead to another! I may have to try more of it. . .
This is wonderful!! I think many of us could have written very similar lines. You took me right back to my grandparents’ farm. Truly it could have been their home that you’ve described.
I’m from Opal and Elbie at their Nevada farm. (And before that, the Pilot Mound farm.)
I’m a big fan of your books. 😃
Bless you, Kelly. Your email suggests you could add a line about chickens! You’d have fun with it once you get started. And Cousin Ken said we rock and rolled to “Jingle Bell Rock”! Even more fun!
My grandma Opal had chickens, of course. I have fond memories of her taking me into the henhouse to gather eggs… those chickens were mean. Ha!
Wow!
Touching and sweet… so good to know you better!
Bless you, Annette. I may have to work on that memoir after all!
I love your poem, Joy! I think it benefits from your not following the [formulaic] template.
It sure got me started!
🙂
Your poem is so vivid and bursting with love of family, foundation, and fun! Such a celebration of your heritage, Joy! I love it!
Lori, thank you so much for your encouragement!
Oh this is so good Joy. The reader feels like they’re right there on Kenneth’s and Ruby’s farm with you. I had to laugh when I read “. . . where I taught Cousin Ken to dance Rock and Roll with jars of green beans and tomatoes as our audience.” Did the green beans applaud? Thanks too for the shout out. I wasn’t sure what to think when I tried my version. The more I played with it though the more fun I had. Hope you had the same experience!!!
Bless you, Brian. BTW, Cousin Ken said we were rock & rolling to Jingle Bell Rock! At first I had too many fun details about childhood, but when I finally narrowed it to Kenneth and Ruby, it started to be fun. I think I’d like to do more of it! Have you tried more?
Jingle Bell Rock. Ha, ha, how timely. I haven’t tried anymore, but I would like to come back to it. I went back and read mine again. I liked how it spurred on the comparisons and deeper descriptions. I’m not sure I really followed the directions all that well, but I guess that’s the point. To see where it takes you.🙂🙂
Yes, to see where it takes you! Thanks, Brian.
You’ve stumbled upon a great template. The heart of your family history really shines through in your poem, Joy. 🙂
Thank you, Nancy. It sure got me started. I may have to try some more of it!