August 21, 2014

My Memè, or “Mémère”, if we were feeling fancy was what we called my father’s mother. It’s a French-Canadian nickname for grandmother, and though she didn’t have a lick of french blood in her veins, my gram did love a French-Canadian man, so it seemed natural that this is the nickname she’d choose to have her grandchildren call her. The memè I remember was a plump, jolly old lady, always

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A Letter to Bear, Who is Now Four

August 16, 2014

Dear Bear, Who is Now Four, This letter is almost a week late. Sorry pal, you’re the middle child, might as well get used to it. Luckily, you figured out quickly that being the middle child means constantly being forgotten and ignored, and you are NOT letting that shit happen to you, no matter how far up your father and my butts you have to shove yourself.  I haven’t pooped alone in

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August 7, 2014

My father is incredibly good at many different things, one of them being cooking. I’m a pretty good cook, having learned from him, but I don’t have the passion for it that he does. Unlike myself, my father comes home from work every night and actually wants to cook and most of our meals were made by him when we were kids. In fact, while growing up, if my mom

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The Box

August 4, 2014

First Communion

July 31, 2014

This photo was taken of me and my family after my first communion. Everyone in this photo with white hair is dead now, which is really why I picked this photo out of the album this morning. I miss those old people. The lady in the LIGHT pink jacket next to my mom was my Nanny and the goofy looking bald guy behind her was my Poppa. They were my

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