It no longer matters what my life would have been like with my parents' involvement. My "mistakes", in their eyes, comprised my life choices, and I'm where and who I am now because of those choices.
Boxes of Dust
Family-Sized Hole
Right now, there are slips of memories flitting through my head, shapes and shadows of people I've known. There must be some key to keeping those people fresh in your life, in your mind, but I have never known it.
Safe as Churches
But the discouraging reality of Church and church has spread its roots throughout my foundational understanding of the world. The last four years has been my undoing, an unraveling of my belief in people of faith altogether.
My Polish Family
My dad never talked much about his origin family. His mother was, in his words, crazy, and we had little contact with his three brothers. What I knew about my father's family fit into a 2X2 inch cube. We know volumes about my mother's family, the big South Side Chicago Irish clan she spoke of... Continue Reading →
Recipes by Mom
The version of this piece published on Eat, Darling, Eat uses softer, less-critical language about my mother. I understand why they made those choices, but it's important to me as a person that other women who might not have had a great relationship with their mothers know that they're not alone. My mom had good... Continue Reading →
Meg Currell 