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I am from the little coat closet near the basement from the coziness of the pillows and the softness of the blankets. I am from the brown house that is always warm and comforting inside,  the house that houses four people, two dogs and sometimes guests. I am from the little tree that somehow still lives inside our home. The tiny tree outside that I named Norman whose long gone limbs I remember as if they were my own. I’m from the late night foosball games in our basement  and the dogs running around growling and playing.  I’m from mom and dad, I’m from messy rooms and morning grumpiness. I’m from “be careful’s” and “I love you’s” and the car radio that never has a song on that everyone agrees on. I’m from family time when we all sit together on that brown couch and watch a show or play a game. I’m from Swedish hospital and Castle Rock, Colorado. From injuries that left my dad hospital bound for a long time. I’m from countless Christmas cards and boxes full of pictures. From memories with friends that will never fade even after the wear and tear of time. -DV

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