I’m from spending weekends on Birch lake,
And from waves crashing against our boat.
I’m from cluttered counters and cookies at Grandma’s house.
I’m from a wooden-fence around our garden
Filled with dark dirt and fresh tomatoes,
And from the oak tree reaching towards the sun.

I’m from sweaty bike rides and trips to the Dells.
From "keep your head up", “take charge”  and "never quit."
I’m from the yellow cabin up north and the lake that gives me shivers,
And from the road trips of screams and laughter.
I'm from sweet watermelon, crunchy grapes,
And from cookie dough ice cream dripping from the sun.

I'm from the basement flooding with memories and closets filled with photos.
I’m from Brian falling through the deck
And laughing until no sound came out.
I’m from 20 hour drives to sink my feet in the sand,
The ocean breeze running through my hair,
And from the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.