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Full-Text Articles in Arts and Humanities
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.