I like your wedding dress, aunt Morg. (I was wearing a brightly patterned maxi dress.) I’m going to swing on the swings now, but I’ll be careful, so everyone calm down. Back it up, sister. Good morning! Let’s get this … Continue reading
The Philadelphia row home my grandparents lived in always smelled like sauerkraut, and while that sounds like an insult, I don’t mean it to be. We would visit a few times a year, and as we pulled onto their street … Continue reading
I once read that extended families exist only because grandmothers refused to die on time, and I don’t know if that’s true, but I watch my own mother, now a grandmother of her own, and I can understand why one … Continue reading
I am suddenly fond of hoods on jackets, which is lucky, because last night it spitter-spattered harder than I anticipated on my walk home, a fine mist that steadily turned into a shower before disappearing altogether. I was just tucking … Continue reading
None of the women in my immediate family have middle names. (For context, the men do; my extended family does too, mostly.) It used to be a point of contention for me; I used to long for an extra word … Continue reading