After we gave it all to Goodwill, I lived in fear every day that I would see somebody else wearing my mom’s clothes. By Kandace Chapple
Family
“Momma was crying last night,” my seven-year-old said. “She was crying because you left our family.” By Erik Raschke
I can’t imagine a time without children in my house, just as one month ago I could not imagine an evening without bath time. By Kelli Kirk
Eighteen years later, nothing has changed. All the firsts I had been praying for never came. By Shauna Actis
Fourteen teenagers and three teachers are dead who were not dead a few of weeks ago, and my house is falling apart, and my children are at school. By Brianne DeRosa
Home is where I raised them, watched them grow and then take flight. Maybe that’s why every time they leave now, it’s a reminder of when they left for good. By Morgan Baker
The sparks of ambition, even in the middle of life, can become flames. By Sonya Spillmann
Before I had kids, my mother told me: “Your career is the only thing you will ever have that is entirely your own.” By Adrienne So
I wanted to laugh and not think about my mortality. I wanted to attend functions at my son’s school without a perfectly tied head scarf. By Kai McGee
Motherwell interviews Andrea Jarrell about her debut memoir, which touches on themes of motherhood, desire and vulnerability.