The writer Mona Awad on an evening tradition passed down by her mother.
By Mona Awad
Summer brings with it a certain set of rites and rituals — and everyone’s are personal and unique. For our weeklong ode to the season, T has invited writers to share their own. Here, Mona Awad describes the simple pleasures of eating frozen cherries while watching films by Alfred Hitchcock.
A few summers ago, I had to have hip surgery. “Might be a long recovery,” my surgeon warned. And as for its success? “We’ll see.” Four to six weeks of crutches followed by three to six months of physical therapy. Pain killers and ice. This would be my summer of uncertainty. This would be my summer of suspense and lying still. This would be my summer of Hitchcock and cold cherries.
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