A Passover without family around the table
I COULD HEAR MY MOM IN ANOTHER ROOM ONCE AGAIN asking if the kosher beef ribs had arrived. Or maybe it was the kosher potato chips. I’d been hearing calls like this all week, check-ins with stores in Houston, where she and my dad live.
This time, though, I turned to my husband: “Which one of us is going to tell them they have to tell her that Passover isn’t happening?”
he knew, meant Mamaw, my maternal grandmother, who has hosted
