Genevieve Kingston has carried a cardboard box with her throughout her life, filled with gifts for major milestones — childhood birthdays, her first period, graduation. The gifts are from her mother, who died of cancer just before Ms. Kingston’s 12th birthday. In her final days, she prepared postcards for the future and filled the box with her love. In today’s episode, we listen to Ms. Kingston’s essay about opening the packages in the box, and her reflections on what was lost — and what was found. Then, we speak to a mother and son from one of our Tiny Love Stories to hear about how they have connected during the pandemic through cooking.
[music]
Anna Martin: God, I hope she picks up.
We just talked.
Mom: Hey, Anna.
Anna Martin: Hi, mom.
How are you?
I talked to my mom a lot.
She's the person I call when I'm facing a big decision,
or when a guy I'm seeing makes me feel sort of bad,
or when I just ate some sushi
that have been sitting out on the counter for a few hours,
and I'm terrified I have food poisoning.
I guess I'm old enough that
I don't have to call her for any of these things.
It's more that I just really want to talk to her.
I need to hear her voice.
OK, bye, mom. I love you.
Mom: Bye, Anna. I love you, too.
[music]
Anna Martin: From the New York Times,