Column: Let’s talk turkey (not politics)


It’s intriguing to consider those memories of childhood that are seemingly random, yet remain vivid and meaningful long into adulthood.

I don’t mean our recollections of milestone events: weddings, births, funerals, graduations. It’s little wonder that I can conjure the scene of Dad returned from Mom’s side at the hospital, breaking the news of the latest sibling to be born. Or the time Mom came home from the hospital, her maternity blouse indicating her advanced pregnancy and her eyes glassy, to tell me that Dad had died. That was a gorgeous April morning. I remember because the weather felt like a taunt to 11-year-old me; it should have been black and stormy.

Opinion Columnist

Jackie Calmes

Jackie Calmes brings a critical eye to the national political…

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