by: Carisa Peterson My mother made all of my clothes while I was growing up. But it didn’t embarrass me in the way that some homemade clothes are known to turn out. That is, badly enough that they make the kid wearing the clothes want to look down and dig their toes in the dirt once someone notices a lopsided cut, or one sleeve longer than the other and asks them if someone made whatever it is. She easily could…
by: Fahrin Kermally “Gratitude is the sweetest thing in a seeker’s life – in all human life. If there is gratitude in your heart, then there will be tremendous sweetness in your eyes.” – Sri Chinmoy With another holiday season upon us, this is the time of year when we start to get bogged down in decorations, gifts and parties. And while those things are fun and joyful and offer a chance to share happiness with those around us, it’s…
by: Trish Cantillon On the first Thursday of December my mom and I would do our “Christmas walk” through Beverly Hills. Back then, Thursday was the only night stores were open past six o’clock. We’d drive the few blocks from our house and park across the street from Good Shepherd Church, the same place we parked every Sunday for Mass. The stained glass windows that lined the side of the church looked spooky in the dark, but the two Mission-style…
Both Dena Moes and Lisa Romeo are writers, wives and mothers. Their memoirs explore family connections and the adventures they’ve taken to get to know their loved ones– and themselves– more deeply. Dena Interviews Lisa. . . Dena Moes: You have been a writer for much of your adult life. You have worked in journalism and PR, gotten an MFA and helped found a writing program where you taught. Is there a pivotal point at which you knew you wanted to…
by: Lauren Jonik Dena stood in the corner of the bathroom with a sledgehammer in her hand and a smile on her face. The pale pink bathtub and the ceramic tiles on the wall soon would be gone. As I scrolled through her photos, I wondered if it was a good idea that she and I had become Facebook acquaintances— I didn’t know her well enough to consider her a friend in any real sense of the word. My family…