I am from the dry, snow capped, cool foothills of the Rockies.

 

I am from salt with watermelon, tuna fish salad in a tomato, chicken tomatillo enchiladas, chicken hearts and Braunschweiger sandwiches of my past and the grains, veggies and fruits of my present.

 

I am from fair to midland, buckle down whether you think you can or can’t you’re right, don’t cry because it’s over smile because it happened, the whistling s sound that creeps out of my fathers mouth, the um byes (that always sounded like yum pie), I am not thirsty, hungry or any other state, but I am Kristin.

 

I am from my mother who gave me so many luxuries she didn’t have, my father who taught me to stick with it, and then listened to me blather about life, my brother Sean who struggled and tapped out when he had enough of this mortal coil, for my sister Rachael for always staying positive and my brother Kyle who had the courage to take a different path than expected in his life, I owe a great deal of gratitude to my friends, family, teachers, coworkers, acquaintances for the experiences and all my unexpected teachers along the way.

 

I am because we are.