I am from red bricks, white aluminum, and split leveled blandness with a never ending insecure desire to please. I am from the rosebush stuck behind the backdoor, neglected, slammed upon but always blooming with beautiful red flowers.
I am from the annual roasted pig we lovingly called Arnold and drunken laughter, from the Lebel’s and the Grenon’s to the Lapointe’s and the Bigras.
I am from the city we call the moon for its lack of trees and rocky roughness and a nation’s Capital where sidewalks are rolled up after business hours. But will always call home the city that gave birth to the Habs.
From do-as-you’re-told, eat-your-brussel-sprouts, go-ask-your-mother and clean-up-your-room…
I am from organ rehearsals every Saturday morning at the Catholic church and stolen cookies from the nuns’ kitchen.
I’m from a confusing world where uttering something as simple as “Bonjour” could land a teacher behind bars. From “Fais dodo” and toe stomping songs with the ruine-babines inviting you to join in unison.
From the meat pies, cretons, maple syrup, pâté de foie, and card games where my aunts and uncles stuck them on their foreheads laughing wildly as they grabbed another 50.
I am from summers with cousins spent at French River, dreams of city lights, fitting in and community pools where we mold young leaders to take on the world.
This is taken from this template here. Of course I had to change it up a little bit… but I tried to follow the rules as best as I could. I am after all a hard headed misfit and I know you would expect no less of me.