About Cari Smith

The most meaningful lessons come from ordinary moments

Cari Smith is a lifelong storyteller, teacher, wife, and mom of three boys who believes the most meaningful lessons come from ordinary moments—shared meals, hard work, family squabbles, and Sunday Mass. Raised in a small town as the daughter of a roofer, Cari learned early on that wisdom isn’t always loud and legacy isn’t always flashy—it’s built one lesson, one laugh, and one story at a time.

In her debut memoir, Raised on Rooftops: Life Lessons from a Roofer’s Daughter, Cari captures the grit, grace, and humor of growing up in a big family with a practical, quotable dad and enough real-life stories to last a lifetime. Through her writing, she invites fellow family storytellers to reflect on their own roots and to preserve the everyday moments that shape who we are.

When she’s not writing or cheering from the sidelines of her boys’ games, Cari can be found drinking coffee, coaching young writers, or reminding someone to switch the laundry—again.

family pic spring break
Cari and her family

raised on rooftops

Through engaging storytelling and a tone that balances warmth with wit, Raised on Rooftops becomes more than a memoir—it’s an invitation for readers to reflect on their own foundations, familial bonds, and the small but profound lessons found in everyday life.

Raised on Rooftops by Cari Smith cover with child and adult silhouettes back to back on a rooftop

From Rooftop Memories to a Legacy in Writing

I didn’t set out to write a book.

I set out to remember.

In the summer of 2010, I was sitting in a writing workshop at Michigan State, scribbling down stories about my dad—the kind of stories that live in a family but rarely get written down. He was a roofer, quiet but quotable, the kind of man who didn’t just build barns but built character in his kids without ever calling it that.

At first, I wrote to laugh. To process. To make sense of things.

But the more I wrote, the more I realized I wasn’t just remembering him—I was remembering me. Who I had been as a daughter. Who I was becoming as a wife, a mother. How the lessons from rooftops with my family were slowly becoming the lessons I now tried to live out on ground level, in laundry rooms and late-night parenting moments.

I began collecting these stories like nails in a pouch—some heavy, some bent, some sharp, all essential. And along the way, something happened: I realized that these everyday moments were the legacy.

It wasn’t about writing the most polished story or having a perfect childhood to draw from. It was about preserving what mattered before it slipped away. It was about giving shape to the memories that built me and offering them to others—maybe to help them remember their own.

So I kept writing. In between diaper changes and dinner duty, sporting events and school projects. I wrote when it was inconvenient, when it hurt, when it made me laugh out loud.

And one day, after years of life and loss and living in between chapters, I looked down and realized: I didn’t just have stories—I had a book.

Raised on Rooftops isn’t just my story, though. It’s for every storyteller who wants to hold onto something real. For every mom or daughter or teacher who feels the pull to write things down before they disappear. For anyone who wants to leave behind more than photos—a legacy of laughter, strength, and love built into everyday life.

Because someday, someone will be grateful you took the time to tell the story.

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