Lilly’s "I Am From" Poem

My daughter started middle school this week.  Her back grew smaller as she hefted her backpack and walked into the morning sun with her friends.  I hung in the doorway waiting for her to turn around.  When she didn't, I shouted, "Goodbye girls!   Have fun storming the castle!"

She still didn't turn around.
  

I felt a little bit lonely for her, knowing she would face the potential horrors of middle school on her own.  But some of the best times as a parent are the ones where you send your children off into the world armed only with the love you instilled, and they come back to you not only unharmed but exhilarated by their own independence. 

That’s what I told myself.

But this morning, groggy from an overnight ER trip with my oldest (diagnosis pneumonia) and groping for my coffee, I came across a poem piled atop a stack of  homework on the dining room table.  I read the poem.  Mid-poem, my husband came out of the kitchen and found me weeping all over my children’s schoolwork.

“I know!”  He said, wrapping his arms around me.

Then Lilly breezed through.  “Oh my God,” she said rolling her eyes.  Then she scooped up the cat, turned on her heel and left us howling and clutching each other.

My Lilly had been given an assignment in her new middle school English class – to write an “I Am From” poem.  If you follow the Swagger blog, you might have noticed that each of us has posted an "I am From" poem on our individual pages.  Months ago, on our second writing retreat, Gina prompted us to excavate our souls.  The creation of these poems was transformative in their content and in the bonding that took place when we shared them with each other.  An "I Am From" poem forces the writer to sculpt an image of themselves with words. 

And if this is where Lilly is from.  If this is who Lilly is, I think she is ready for whatever the world has in store.

I am from books

From ukuleles and small pink bows

I am from the brick house by the Swedish Bakery

That always smelled like cats

I am from the raspberry bush in the backyard

And the wall tree far away

I am from the Germans with the big brown eyes

From the dorky English teacher and the musical professor

I am from swearing and singing

And box collecting

I am from Lillabear and Boogaboo

And Love You Forever

I am from corn holing in Galena

And the bar at The Lodge

I am from Evanston and Italy

Porcupine meatballs and chocolate cake

From the frostbitten puppy

Forgotten outside

In the living room the shelves of photo albums

Full of family and friends from long ago

I am from Home.

Friday was Lilly's birthday.  We like to create “movie” birthday cards.  
This year, we used her own writing to wish her a happy birthday.