Tiny Love Stories: ‘No Hugging … and Definitely Nothing Lewd’
A Knock at the Door
Several weeks before Thanksgiving my mother, a physician, suffered a massive heart attack and for weeks was kept in the I.C.U. At 15, I was too young to visit her. Doctors said she probably wouldn’t make it. My father, needing her like air, disappeared in his camper van. I stopped going to school and hid with my dog, afraid social services would knock on the door. Instead, a knock heralded my friend Rick whose mother — knowing I was vegetarian — had made me an entire, meatless, Thanksgiving feast. I’d never even met her. Yet her kindness saved me from despair. — Rebecca J. Becker
ImageAfter my mother recovered; still a little shellshocked, but back in school.Who Wants to Win a German Mother?
First episode: Meeting Andrea’s parents as she announced we were getting married — news they didn’t see coming, especially since she’d never mentioned she was gay. Andrea’s mother eyed me like an American sequel to World War II. German rules were strict and baffling: no hugging, no first names and definitely nothing lewd. Sunday lunches became my lightning round — dumplings like helmets, beer mugs like trophies, pleasantries like spears. For years, we faced off politely, handshake after handshake. Then one Christmas, the finale: She hugged me, briefly, awkwardly, but with affection. I’d captured the German mother’s heart. Love wins.— Lois Bromfield
ImageWith my mother-in-law in our little town of Höchstadt, Germany.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.
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