Roots
Baking with Mama
Amy Garcia ('24)
Roots
Amy Garcia ('24)
A Mother's Love
Mark O’Brien ('23)
Alarm clocks go off on a Wednesday morning,
My mom wakes earlier than anyone else.
While me and my brother stay asleep,
She packs our lunches and prepares us for school.
Her eyes baggy from a busy day yesterday,
Her mind tries to organize all our schedules at once,
She places everyone before herself,
Never once does she complain because of her endless love.
She looks and sees the big pile of laundry that has formed,
She sighs because she has her own work to do.
My mom makes sure everything is finished with detail,
So she can make my baseball games later.
All because of a mother’s love.
Enkelin
Photo by Ms. McGovern
A Saturday in April
Megan Duffner ('23)
“Where is my mom?” she kept asking as she sat on the loveseat, which revealed wear and tear after sixty years, seven children, and seventeen grandchildren. My dad had to continuously remind her that her mom was no longer with us. However, she just could not wrap her head around this idea and insisted that her mom was probably upstairs.
Growing up, my three brothers and I loved going to visit my mom-mom. We would pile into the back of my family’s white minivan and listen to the radio as we drove to her house. When we arrived, we were greeted with hugs and kisses before sinking into her floral-print couch. She would ask about how we were doing in school and offer us various treats from the pantry. Our favorite was her fudge-striped cookies, which we would eat off of our pinky fingers. She was always willing to share anything and everything she had, whether it was money for pizza or a simple dream catcher that she received in the mail.
However, within the past year, the typical excitement that came with visiting her has morphed into uncertainty and helplessness. In particular, I will never forget this dreary Saturday in April when my dad and I went to visit my mom-mom. From the very moment we arrived, it was obvious that she was not her usual, sweet self.
As I sat on the aged recliner chair across from her, I noticed her fragile body and the panic-stricken expression that had come across her face. We continued to assure her that everything was okay, but she never fully believed us. After four months, the signs of her dementia were beginning to show. She couldn’t remember the fish-fry my family held every summer in Sea Isle. She couldn’t remember the snickerdoodle cookies we baked together each Christmas. She couldn’t even remember the dates of her loved ones’ birthdays. My mom-mom failed to completely trust anyone around her, due to her constant state of confusion, and I wondered if she would ever be at peace with her thoughts again.
As our visit went on, it was obvious that her mind never settled. She took her wallet out of her purse to count her money and cards, and then repeated this over, and over, and over again. When asked what she was looking for, she had no concrete response. It was heartbreaking to see her in such a vulnerable state, as if her mind was racing with no finish line in sight. She had always given me so much in the past, but at that moment, there was nothing I could do to settle her uneasiness.
After saying our goodbyes and exchanging hugs, my dad and I rode home to the suburbs. As I stared out the window, I reflected on all the wonderful memories and relationships that I had in my life. I simply could not imagine slowly forgetting my family and friends, whom I had loved for so many years. Who would care for me, if I ever found myself suffering like her? Could the ones I love, the people closest to me, possibly fade away one day? Would they really just slip out of my mind?
At that moment, I saw how I failed to grasp that the most important thing my mom-mom gave us was her patience and love. While I had always admired my mom-mom’s generosity with material items growing up, it took seeing the loss of her soft, quiet kindness for me to realize how valuable her mere presence was. I also saw how she had laid a blueprint — through her own example — on how to share that same patience and love with the people in my life. While my mom-mom may no longer remember this Saturday afternoon in April, it might bring her some comfort to know that I will.
Amanda Motta ('25)
Kitchen
Zach Tepfenhardt ('23)
Pots and pans clanking,
music playing,
the flame on the stove rising like a Phoenix,
organized chaos.
My Mother’s Kingdom,
the smell of onions engulfs me,
as I reach for a plate.
Pots and pans washed,
music quieted,
the stove put to rest,
dinner served.
The chef of my dinner,
the chef of my life.
Christmas Eve
Allison Covone ('23)
In the midst of wafting aromas,
There is a warm presence
Like that of a festive fireplace.
Red hair matches the poinsettias and holly berries
A simple stir of the pot commands attention,
But the smile given to guests is solely merry.
A beep!
A buzz!
Out, out, out!
From the oven and the crock pot and the numerous pans
Dished out to those with forks in their hands
The French toast is a sugary sweet
Rivaled only by her generosity.
The rolls stuffed to the max with meatballs
Foreshadow our stomachs after the meal.
Eggs fluffed perfectly sit
Next to their crispy counterpart.
And whether it’s water, orange juice, or wine,
All glasses rise to acknowledge
The gentle power of a meal cooked with love.
A toast!
To the mother who cooked the brunch feast
On this, and every, Christmas Eve.
Mary Sketch
Talia Barrow ('23)
Excerpt from Over the Tour - An Unfinished Novel
Liv Krempa ('24)
Background: After an almost 8-year separation, the reunion of Sebastian O’Connor and Novalee Walsh is awkward to say the least. Somehow the awkwardness dissolves back into the loving friendship they left behind when they were 15, leading them to the whirlwind idea of the century: Seb should join Nova’s tour across Europe for the summer. From London to Monaco and Mykonos to Barcelona, the beautiful Irishwoman follows her newfound Spanish tour guide across Europe for three months rekindling their love of travel… and each other.
Sebastian
Dubrovnik, Croatia
Somehow she always surprises me. We have been driving for 30 minutes in a rented Jeep with paddle boards in the back, leading the trek across the southern coast of Croatia. I have lived in many coastal cities but I must admit that Croatia has one of the most underrated. The curved outline leaves beautiful cliffs that drop into teal-blue water. Drops so far it feels as if you could fall off the earth, engulfing yourself in the crystal waves.
We park in a small lot off the side of the cliff and hop out.
“So… Why are we here Nova? ” I ask, popping open the back of the black Jeep.
“You will see,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows as she pulls her deep-blue paddleboard from the back of the car. She threw her backpack on her back before heading toward a small trailhead at the side of the cliff. I shoot her a confused look, grabbing my board and following her in stride.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have now learned it is extremely difficult to carry paddle boards down one of the steepest trails in this country. It is truly the narrowest path to ever exist. I end up taking Nova’s board from her and giving her the paddles so she can go down without falling.
The path is cut into the side of the cliff, thankfully giving a shady handover as we climbed down. It was around nine when we made it down to the beach at the bottom. The beach was clear, not a person was in sight. Only us, our things, and the vast ocean rocking softly in the wind.
We set out our towels just laying on the beach before Nova picked up her board and headed out toward the water. I grab the waterproof camera as I hear her playing music over a waterproof speaker. The water is relatively calm, with only small waves we went over easily. We paddled out to open water before just sitting down on our boards.
Nova leans back on her arms, her maroon cross-over bikini contrasting against her fair Irish skin. Her mocha brown hair fans across her board as she lays down fully, soaking in the early morning sun. She radiates calm, the epitome of how it feels on a relaxing summer day. I snap a few pictures without her noticing as I take a few of the coast and the water as well, colorful fish swarming around our feet as we float.
“It's insane to think you could just do this and make thousands of dollars off of snapshots. Oh, To be you” Nova comments, making a photo-taking motion in front of her face as Billy Joel plays softly from the speaker at the bottom of her board.
I place the camera down on the board in front of me as I turn to look at her.
“My job is not it's all cracked up to be. I go unemployed a lot more than I go employed” An unexpected sigh leaves my lips. Nova sat up, offering a sympathetic smile.
“Is this about the job offer you were given? Is it bad?” She asks, concern taking over her voice. I chuckle, shaking my head and refusing to make eye contact with her emerald eyes.
“No, it is perfect. I would make stable money, I get to travel. But I’m afraid I’m not good enough for it. I never really picked a specific genre of photography I wanted to focus on. I just freelanced my way through it, scared the ever-loving crap out of Máma.” She laughs, her brown hair falling forward to frame her face.
That smile. Dios, es perfecta. I pick up my camera, catching the shot as she flicks her head up at the sound of the camera click. I smile brightly at the shot before looking at Nova, who looks upset.
“Sorry, the light was catching nice against your eyes,” I say honestly, a little too honestly. She gives me a slight smile, still a bit uncomfortable.
“Oh, okay. It just caught me off guard, didn’t anticipate that you would want to take a picture of me” she says, letting out an awkward chuckle as her eyes wander to our surroundings avoiding my gaze.
I stare directly at her, waiting for her to catch one glimpse of the genuineness of my expression. I shift myself so my feet are both hanging off the right side of the board.
“Why wouldn’t I want to take pictures of you,” I ask softly, not wanting to strike too many nerves at once. I watch as she pulls herself out of the internal space she was occupying and looks at me directly. She just shrugs her shoulders.
“Well, I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think I was very photogenic enough for you to want to take my picture. My ex was a journalist but he was a photographer too, just for fun though. He never took pictures of me or us in general, said that they never came out very good so it wasn’t worth the effort.” She stares at her foot as it drags across the surface of the water, creating small ripples.
Click, her head flickers up. Click. I place the camera down just to paddle closer to her. I hand her the camera to look at the pictures I took. Nova’s pictures are always very natural, calm, peaceful: effortless. Never once has taking a picture of Nova been a hassle, she is almost too photogenic that you need to capture the moment to share.
“Perfecto, I could never understand how anyone who calls themselves a photographer would never want to take a picture like that,” I say. My Spanish accent pulls prominently as I speak my native tongue, even if it was only one word. She stares shocked at the outcome of her photos.
“That's not a photo you can stage, just saying,” I say, winking to make her smile. She set the camera down on the front of my board before crossing her hands in front of her.
“Thanks, Seb”, I raise an eyebrow at her.
“Mo Ghrá (My Love), I haven’t done anything,” I say, she shrugs, staring at her hands as they lay against the curve of the board.
“I don’t know you were just a big help in not thinking about it” Her expression went dark and sad again. I lift her chin to look me straight in the eye.
“You can always talk to me Nova, always,” I say, my voice going stern at the end. She lifts her chin away from my finger but stays looking at me.
“I guess I kind of just got over my ex fast. He was not that great of a guy but it is still hard to move on quickly from a two-year relationship. Having you here makes it bearable, fun, and exciting. You represent everything he was supposed to be for me and I appreciate it.” A small tear fell down her face as she spoke. I quickly wiped it from her face. She smiled at me.
“I’m glad I’m here”, her body physically brightening at my words.
“So am I. Sorry, for bringing the mood down”
I shake my head, “Don’t worry about it. You want to go for a swim” I ask, standing on the board.
Nova quickly picks up the camera so it wouldn’t fall into the water. She snaps a shot of me in my bright red swim shorts as I push away from her and nosedive off the side of the board. I hear her laughing as I swim over to her board. She places the camera on her board as I grab her arm and pull her into the water with me. She rose to the top, shaking the water away from her face, “Gosh Seb, you could have given me a warning” She says, her annoyed expression bringing an even bigger grin to my face. She sees it and takes off chasing me through the water as I wade in front of her, trying to keep her from catching me.