I've seen this on several other sites and I've decided to adopt it, for this day, as my own.
I'm from the puddle of sunlight that used to occupy our living room floor in the late 1940's. It was warm and used to put me to sleep - and I would cuddle with my Dad's dog, Bo.
I'm from Sonny, and Betty, whose husband would wake her by calling up the stairs, "Hey, Butch." And Rose, who was blinded by Diabetes, and Louis H., who fought in the Spanish American War and always smelled of mustard plasters. And Arthur, and Opal, both of whom died before I was born.
I'm from Epiphany Grade School and Sister Aloysia, who slapped me for pinching Lawrence Duckworth, but forgave her favorite Second Grader when I told her I loved her.
I'm from long summer days spent outside until Mom called me in and it always sounded like "Lou Ass" with her Iowa farm accent. I'm from friends like Bobby and Bronco and Joey next door, Valerie and Gloria who were older and taught me stuff.
I'm from Kedvale Avenue after the War, and Hamlin Avenue we moved to after Grandma died in 1959.
I'm from Catholic Schools and an unfortunate year in Public High School and an exit from there and into the Marine Corps.
I'm from MCRD San Diego and Okinawa and Japan and the Philippines and Viet Nam.
And I'm from Annie and three magnificent sons.
And, lately, I'm from all of you.
All in all, I'm from some pretty nice places, people, and things. The list, here, isn't complete - but it's enough to let you know how I started.