Open Access. Powered by Scholars. Published by Universities.®
Articles 1 - 3 of 3
Full-Text Articles in Arts and Humanities
My Dead Mom, Lauren Gallow
My Dead Mom, Lauren Gallow
Lauren L. Gallow
After my mom died I inherited all of our family photo albums and scrapbooks. Looking through these treasure books, I was drawn to three very special scrapbooks that my mom made in the late 1970s when she was a senior in high school and then during her first few years of college. I remember flipping through these books for the first time and having the uncanny feeling that I was looking at myself. I look so much like my mom in these photographs, it blew my mind.
Mom & Me, Lauren Gallow
Mom & Me, Lauren Gallow
Lauren L. Gallow
My mom died. My mom passed away. My mom’s dead. None of these versions feel right or even OK. Why do I feel like it’s my job to make other people OK with this information? Every time it comes up, I feel this urge to make light of it or make a joke about it so it’s somehow less uncomfortable for the other person. When what I really want to do is cry and try to explain how sad I am. To explain how much it hurts. That’s what was really surprising: how much it hurts.
Dinner, Lauren Gallow
Dinner, Lauren Gallow
Lauren L. Gallow
There were always rules in our house. Most were unspoken, unless you didn’t follow them. Then there was a lot of speaking. There were a lot of rules surrounding dinner in particular. Mom would plan dinner and execute it, always making sure to please both of us, my stepdad Michael and me. He was a vegetarian for a period of time, and I remember vividly my mom preparing two separate meals, one for Michael and one for me. So mom made the dinners and I always had to set the table.