It’s Christmas Day, 2016. My family is seated at
the dinner table at my sister’s boyfriend’s house,
with his family, for a non-traditional holiday
meal. It’s a paper plate, buffet style affair with lasagna, homemade meatballs and garlic bread.
There are more pastas than I can name, with a
dessert spread that’s primarily a massive sheet pan full of cannoli off to the side.
Not that I’m complaining.
The voice of your dad, with your mother announcing herself at his side, echoes through the Bluetooth speaker system in your car with some smattering of a back story. “I know you’ve been digging into this DNA stuff, and I know you’re trying to learn information about your name, Berry, but…you’re not going to find it.”
In an instant, you’re confused. For the past six months, your DNA novice parents have acted both oblivious and maddeningly detached from these alarming, in-your-face truths. Now, the are sudden insiders to what you will or won’t find on the other side of this re…
Each of us has a few days, in the long view of our lives, that transcend and shape us. The glowing smile of our better half, standing across from us on our wedding day. The birth of a child ushering us into parenthood. There are also the days that rattle us to the core. The haunting, soul-shaking moments of 9/11 come to mind, as we watched not one, but two iconic towers come tumbling and burning to the ground.
I remember where I was on that day. I’m sure you remember where you were too. The images are locked there, in crystal…
