Catherine Gigante-Brown

At first, I felt like an abandoned ten-year-old, dropped off at a remote summer camp—with the extra added attraction of no cell phone reception or Wi-Fi. I thought the hardest part of the weekend was going to be picking out a robe. Boy, was I wrong!

In the photograph, my great-grandmother, Margarita Cirigliano, is sitting at a small table on the front porch of the family home in Borough Park, Brooklyn.

Content Notice: Death

I’m sure you’ll find it a delicious and well-stocked place. There are just a few rules

Food can be more than nourishing; it can be healing.

I sat obediently in her chair atop four ancient copies of the Yellow Pages. Crossing my fingers, I prayed Catholic schoolgirl prayers.

What Stephen didn’t know –– what no one knew –– was how weak my knees grew when I pushed through the swinging doors of the ICU.

“It’s almost as though this niche was patiently waiting for us to find it.”

I saw my present mother-in-law in a whole new light the first time she held my newborn son.

I try. I really do. But whenever I attempt to embrace my husband Peter’s Cuban culture, I always screw up.