For my dad’s birthday because he is “Where I’m From…”
This is from my Red Cedar Writing Project class. We had to write a poem entitled “Where I’m From” It’s a poem about your life and how you got to where you are today. It was another trip down memory lane for us as writers as we explored our childhood again.
My poem helped me realize how my dad was both “mom and dad” and did all the cooking, birthday celebrations (gifts and cake) and curled our hair on Saturday nights for church on Sunday. And if there was time, he would polish our nails too. He also took us pheasant hunting once each season and coached us in softball. Who knew there were 4 different ways to slide (depending on the situation) and 3 different ways to bunt?
My dad and I had a secret word each month. We would whisper it to each other at bedtime. I was also reminded of our family conferences each Sunday night. That put him ahead of his time. Writing this poem gave me a chance to revisit my childhood home, my shared bedroom and how sisters transform from bugging you to embracing you. Mostly…it helped me realize if you can feel loved every day you are not poor and you are so blessed. This writing project helped me realize I am blessed simply because of “Where I’m From…”
Where I’m From…
Sheila Sims Iding
I am from Lorne Jacques Sims
Loving father
Caring husband
Compassionate pet owner
Strong man…inside and out
Saturday night hair curler
Finger nail polisher
Birthday cake maker
Pheasant hunter guide
Champion optimist
Brilliant old-school coach
Keeper of the bar of high expectations
Shared secret word whispered before bed
I am from Mary Jane Sims
wishful mother
Stifled teacher
Disease fighter
Role model life’s tough lessons
mentor in faith, courage and vocation
I am from two older sisters, Susan and Sharon
Best buddies
Worst enemies
Adversity partners
Comfort givers
Torment providers
Sports fans
Favorite teammates
Hand me down donators
Bugging each other
Embracing each other
Forever bond
Forever friends
I am from a small, poor country house
Shared bedroom
Bunk beds
Grandma’s quilts
Crammed closet
Drawers in hallway
Holes in wall
Mice in basement
Big picture window – stage to the world
I am from a father’s cooking
Same meal every Monday (pot pies)
Same meal every Tuesday (hot dogs)
Same meal every Wednesday (chicken)
(you get the idea)
Same meal, same meal, same meal.
I am from family conference each Sunday evening
Talk about mom’s illness
“earn” allowance (or not)
complaint time (for the entire week)
voices and opinions mattered
a father ahead of his time
I am from a country yard
5 peach trees
a plum tree
one pear tree (but no partridge)
that big climbing tree with the swing
the weeping willow
the softball diamond back yard
the corn field homerun fence
mom’s pansies and irises
dad’s lavender plants
soft bed of grass for cloud watching
favorite pets’ graveyard
field stone chimney
garden tending forgotten
my whole world in one yard
I am from emotions
Feeling separated – had to stay with grandparents all summer
Feeling scared – mom will die
Dad will die too?
Feeling anxious – don’t want to grow up
Leave my climbing tree
Feeling envy – other friends’ moms aren’t sick
Feeling loved – nightly prayers (on our knees) followed by
“God bless your little heart” and a hug and kiss.
Mostly, I am from feeling loved…and blessed because of
....where I'm from....