Where I’m From #33

By Jeannine Ouellette

Inspired by George Ella Lyon

Fine Woven

I am from overflowing ashtrays, from store-brand cereal and late payments.

I am from steep wooden stairs (rickety, paint flaking, slats of sunlight nourishing the

chickweed).

I am from the ancient volcanic rock, the clear, rolling creeks, both tumbling incessantly

toward Lake Superior, whose cold waters and ocean-sized waves pulse through my

veins like blood.

I’m from democrats and foremen, from Georganne and Alice-Adelle. I’m from chain-

smoking and Johnny Carson, from “Go out and play” and “Get out of my sight.”

I’m from ex-communicated for divorce and donuts after the Lutheran service.

I’m from Duluth and Lampton, baked chicken and apple salad.

I’m from my father’s father who dropped dead from spreading butter on his crackers,

and my mother’s mother who caught cancer from working in the laundry.

But high on my closet shelf are those vintage hats, the ones that belonged to my father’s mother,

Adelle, the grandma who lived, and her sister, Alice, who loved me so.

I am from those hats—bejeweled with feathers and sequins and nets—I’m from their fine-woven

hope for what would someday grow from so much ash.

Where to find Jeannine:

Website: https://www.jeannineouellette.com/

Where to find Alyson:

Website: https://www.alysonshelton.com

Substack: https://whereimfrom.substack.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/byalysonshelton/