Where I Come From

For Mother’s Day

Eunoia Solstice

It’s always raining when I go home. About once a month, I pack up my small daughter and we drive, across town, on two interstates. We take Coalburg Road to the new highway that everyone still calls “Corridor X” and that has been in the process of being built since before I was born. We head west to take my mother to the doctor.

We drive for an hour through beautiful countryside; it’s all rolling hills and evergreens and fast, shallow waterways cutting through them. And then, on the side of this new and mysteriously named highway, a giant white cross comes into view.  When I say giant, I mean giant. Remember, this is Alabama, so I have some perspective on the size of religious displays. It is lit from the bottom with bright white lights that make it glow through the rain. It is then that I think…

View original post 576 more words