M. Suzanne Terry

Linking up with She Loves Magazine

I am from Bunn coffeemakers,

From hair gel and stacks of well-loved books that tell stories and have stories of their own.

I am from a small reflection of the farm where I grew up, from the aroma of newly picked onions and fresh-shelled peas,

From dusty air and the big, big sky.

I am from cotton and wheat, from lavender and basil,

From the mesquites of homestead giving way to the redbuds of home .

I’m from homemade Christmas candy and stubbornness,

From MeMaws and Aunts pronounced like ants.

I’m from disagreeing (but not in front of company) and sharing recipes and really loud silent treatments.

I’m from look at me when I’m talking to you and be good and Rocky Mountain Rain.

I’m from Texas pride and the stoicism of being English, Irish, Dutch, Creek, and Cherokee, all at the same time,

From Southern Baptist discretion and cavatini and steaks cooked over mesquite or charcoal and chocolate pie with perfect meringue that I still refuse to eat because it is the texture of calf slobber.

I’m from conspiring to move MeMaw Sharp’s garden inside, from learning the hard way that people can’t kiss their elbows, no matter how much I wanted a brother,

From silly songs and fighting over the sweet spot on the couch and tattling and learning to be friends.

I am from heirloom quilts and solid furniture,

From twenty-four place settings apiece bought with green stamps,

From tractors and dirt bikes and so  many cats,

From the remnants of family that follow me home and remind me that I am more than tolerated, that I am loved and kept.