Every Sunday afternoon, my phone whistles to remind me to send a text to the “Rose-ary Chain,” a group of roughly 25 Rose family members who pray the rosary...
Author - Molly Jo Rose
One bright morning in December, I broke my usual Sunday fast from technology to scroll through Instagram. My kids were dressed and the diaper bag was packed...
For the most part, a professorship is well suited to family life. The hours are flexible and schedules are not year round. However, because a typical academic...
It was 1994, a year in my life best represented by Doc Martens and dark red lipstick. But it was also the year my best friend married young and had a baby...
A joyful squeal erupts from the hallway outside of the kitchen as I prepare dinner. “En garde!” shouts my son in the deepest, throatiest voice his 8 years can...
There are many ways my husband and I differ, but perhaps the most significant is that I come from a family prone to spontaneous outbursts of song while he...
A couple of years ago, I taught Dave Cullen’s book Columbine (Twelve) to college freshmen, most of whom weren’t even born when Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris...
School lunchrooms all smell and look the same, the overripe aroma of hundreds of lunches barely contained by cream-colored walls just this side of salmon...
I love nostalgia even though it’s painful. The word has Greek roots in both the words “homecoming” and “pain.” Every time I go home to my parents’ house, I am...
