Q.
Dear George,
I have a question that is less about the craft of writing, and more about the etiquette of story/truth-telling that I am hoping you can help me with.
I recently sat down to write a light, celebratory piece on Chanukah and Christmas, but then – writing took over. What came through me was an honest reflection on how I made peace with both religions after a difficult journey where religion was weaponised in my parents’ separation.
Despite many painful memories, I wrote the piece from a place of love and gratitude. “After all,” I concluded, “what difference does it make how we honour ‘God,’ in which house of worship, and in what language? What matters is that we celebrate the light, and a moment of togetherness.”
But my mum, who read the piece (with the help of Google translate) was pissed. How dare I write this story, which wasn’t only my story, but hers too? She was “still alive.” I “have ruined her life.”