I’m a kaleidoscope

I’m the daughter of a volunteer,
led to the jungles of the Darien by an inspirational leader.
I’m the daughter of a tech-loving rancher, 
a loyal son who tended to the land but
loved everything that was new.
I’m the daughter of a nurse who cared for
family, friends, and strangers in their time of need.
I’m the daughter of an artist, who learned to
express herself with colors, mosaics, and paints.
I’m the daughter of a self-taught musician,
wherever he went people asked him to play.

I’m the daughter of an midwestern introvert 
who came down from the cold
I’m the daughter of the life of the party, 
a hot-blooded latino, a man everyone knew.
I’m an introvert who loves a good crowd:
I’d love to host you and feed you if you
promise to entertain me, bring the music and the laughs.
Ask me to dance, sing me a song,
and then leave me alone.

I’m a mother who twice was a wife.
My children drew me here when
my life changed for what I thought was the worst.
I had no way of knowing what would come next
but they were both here, and so I built a new nest.

I’m drawn to the water and though
the rain forest was my home,
the sea is in my name and 
I need to hear the sound of the waves,
smell the salt air.
It’s like a shot full of endorphins; 
I need a booster every six months.

I was gifted a camera when I turned thirteen.
Since then my eye has been following lines and
framing scenes, looking for the shot.
When I was a young girl my diary was full of scribbled, childish thoughts;
later my journals became a place for dreams and laments.
And the writing never stopped.

The branches of my family tree could provide shade all over the world.
From China to Duluth to Colombia, Scandinavia to Panama.
Am I brown, white, yellow, tan?
That’s not quite a rainbow, maybe a kaleidoscope?