I am from mass on Sundays and dunk tank volunteering at Fall Fest.
I am from sitting on top of the dugout watching meteor showers with my best friend.
Singing “Where does the good go?” with the windows down in the car and mini photoshoots.
I am from St. Charles Catholic Grade School.

I am from inspiring, investigating, yet irreplaceable parents.
I am from “parties” at Grandpa's house--
Cheetos, Disney movies and Barbies on the windowsill.
I am from over-joyous reunions with Kelsey when she comes home from college.

I am from panic at the sight of the ambulance in my driveway
and when my sister did not remember my name.
I am from Van Morrison's Brown Eyed Girl road-tripping with Dad.
I am from cookies and milk at 2am.

I am from Limerick.
Gillies tied tightly and itchy sock glue stealing my focus.
I am from a neon pink solo dress glistening in stage lights.
I am from Trinity Irish Dance Academy.

I am from “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, use it.”
“Don't eat yellow snow” and “Suck it up.”
I am from hysterically laughing at the dinner table and 11pm Yahtzee games.
I am from “Roll out the barrel” in the Frozen Tundra.

For the past two years, I am from unbearable, excruciating, constant headaches.
From doctors, therapy and medications
and forever the question, “Why can't they fix me?”
I am from recovery.

I am from mission trips to
Moore, Oklahoma and Clintwood, Virginia.
I am from cities giving more to me than I could give back.

And yet, I am still from mass on Sundays and dunk tank volunteering at Fall Fest.
I am from sitting on top of the dugout watching meteor showers with my best friend.
And from the same old St. Charles Catholic Grade School.