Emily put me onto an idea running through the blogosphere that started here.

I am from Saturday morning cartoons with popcorn leftover from Friday night tv, from lego and more lego. I am from the big white house at the end of the street.

I am from the apple trees whose fruit never spoiled my dinner, the endless summers that peeled my shoulders and gravel streets that calloused my feet.

I am from sunday afternoons with Oma and Opa in the city and blonde hair and blue eyes, from Gerda and tante Jo and Neeltje.

I am from the quick tempers of sibling rivalry and the unspoken forgive and forget.

From "verstrooide professor" and "Ga op het dak zitten".

I am from a loose grasp of christianity. I long ago let go.

I'm from Benz Crescent and Holland, pannekoeken at night and wentelteefjes in the morning. Both with boter and suiker. Sometimes with stroop.

From the great uncle whose face I have, but thankfully whose destiny I do not, and the strength in Opa's grip when he worked with his tools.

I am from the boxes of dusty old photo albums with yellowed pages, the stories from older generations about people I never knew but will always know.