I'm Glad My Mom Died

by Jennette McCurdy

Mom pauses the way she does before she’s about to say something she thinks is a part of a big moment.

The Gift of the Holy Ghost was definitely the gift I was most excited for. A friend from church did get me some gooey slime, though, which was a close second.

Frankly, I wish Grandpa would have just asked me about my rituals because then I could have explained to him that it’s not OCD, it’s the Holy Ghost.

“Now squint your eyes five times fast, fold your tongue, then tighten your butt cheeks for fifty-five seconds,” my Still Small Voice tells me. So I do.

Grief is a great scapegoat.

(This is one of my OCD tics that lingers. I also twirl every time I enter my bathroom, but at least that one’s kinda fun.)