Mortatality only began to haunt me in a way I could see when I was older, when I had someone to care about and I loved my mother again. Until I was 23, I was at best unaware of the desperate war I’d waged against it: I expected my mom to follow my dad into… Continue reading on dad and dying
Tag: mothers
On interrupting
When I was 11 my mother moved us to Jordan for a year, where she enrolled me in private school and allowed my teachers to fail me as long as they also helped me learn to read and write in Arabic. She spent every spare moment trying to enrich my experience in a place I… Continue reading On interrupting
On parents
The mortality and death of one, instantly highlights the limitations and finality of the other. My mother’s actions and presence are a constant taunting reminder of the way time passes unnoticed and one day will sweep her away into memory. Her mothering is ever present in the lacking space of my fathering, and it puffs… Continue reading On parents
Garbanzo Bae 