Who We Are

For some reason, my father chose to move into a house, on the North West side of Oklahoma City. As memories of the house are recalled, my Mother will say the move was motivated by his want to be as far away from her side of the family as possible. Built in the 1940's, I remember walking through the house after we closed, I'm four or five, and believing every part was absolutely magical. I do not think I had ever seen an attic before. Dad will renovate, nearly the entire property, but my favorite parts remain the spaces that were a bit sketchy. Mom let us roller-blade in the house and as you went from one end to the other, a significant slant downwards would give you a good amount of momentum. The living room had a beautiful, huge, double pane window, that would fill up with water, like a fish tank, when we got rain.    There was a large mulberry tree in the backyard, under a wood fort we would make mud pies with miniature wild onions, even though we were only minutes from dow...

After failing my written Learner's Permit test, sadly, three times I was finally granted an official driver's license. I was not over the moon or patting myself on the back for reaching any sort of finish line. I was much higher on the eye roll vibe than any sort of grateful attitude for meeting this moment. My Father is an over-the-road truck driver at this time; I had been driving their stick shift Honda Accord since I was eight. Learning to navigate this said stick shift started as many others had done, on a dirt road in Dover, Oklahoma. On the North side of Route One my Grandma Ruth's house had played host to many before me, cutting their teeth driving, while at the same time waving "Hi" to fellow country dwellers as paths crossed. My understanding of myself then, much as it is now, is tough. I did not give much attention to the Permit test, as I had been driving for years. Only nervous as I backed out of her driveway, as it was bookended with two ditches, and...