In her acclaimed memoir, Glitter and Glue, Kelly Corrigan explores the complex dynamics between mothers and daughters. In the excerpt below, Corrigan reflects on how her mother’s voice continues to resonate in her mind, even after she relocates to Australia following her college graduation.
“I shouldn’t be here,” I think to myself as I stroll behind John Smith through his house in suburban Australia. After our interview, I should have called and said it wasn’t a match. But I had no choice. I needed cash, or I’d be back on my mom’s doorstep in no time, which would surely delight her.
It’s her fault, I muse, as I drop my backpack on a single bed in a room with a skylight but no proper windows. John Smith looks at me and says, “I hope this will be okay.” If she had just lent me a little money—a loan—things might be different.
This isn’t what I envisioned when I left home. That’s the bitter pill I swallow as John informs me that his kids are eagerly looking forward to my arrival, ready to jump on my bed in excitement. “First nanny and all,” he adds.
Yes, a nanny.
For the record, I didn’t arrive in Australia and immediately circle “Recent Widower Seeking Live-in Nanny” in the local paper. I had dreams of bartending or at least waitressing—good pay, lots of fun, surrounded by people.
After two months of traveling with my friend Sarah, we arrived in Sydney with dwindling funds. We filled out applications at every restaurant that seemed open to Americans. Seven days later, we expanded our search to surf shacks and cafes, but nobody wanted to hire us. After three weeks of searching, we did what no self-respecting traveler would do: we turned to the nanny ads, which were all in the suburbs—far from any excitement or adventure.
I chose a wealthy family with an indoor pool and a view of the iconic Sydney Opera House, but Eugenia Brown turned out to be a tyrant. After a disagreement about her unreasonable demands, including pool cleaning and personal assistance, she fired me.
I interviewed with several other families, offering to babysit on weekends and sharing my CPR certification, but no one would accept a nanny who could only stay for five months. Eventually, I returned to the newspaper and found John Smith’s ad still available.
John was older than I expected for a father of two young children. His mustache was peppered with gray, and his demeanor was reminiscent of someone who might take part in Civil War reenactments. In a brief meeting, he explained his recent loss and his need for help. He didn’t mind that I couldn’t commit long-term, and I agreed to the arrangement without hesitation.
His house was a half-painted ranch in a questionable shade of orange, likely chosen by his late wife. Inside, remnants of a family life were scattered everywhere—crayon on the walls, toys on the floor, a piano bench overwhelmed with drawings.
As I settled in, John’s son, Oliver, bounded towards me. He was a scrawny boy with pointy ears and an infectious enthusiasm. “Keely!” he shouted, mispronouncing my name.
“Hello!” I greeted him, impressed by his carefree spirit.
He jumped on the piano and began to play a melody that echoed joy and chaos. I encouraged him with applause, but his sister, Lily, shushed him from another room, clearly uninterested in his performance.
I tried to make a connection with Lily, who was quiet and reserved. Her demeanor hinted at her wariness towards my presence. I offered her a lemon drop, but she declined, exemplifying her disinterest.
“Things happen when you leave the house,” I reminded myself, a motto I coined during an Outward Bound trip. After a solitary week on a beach, I had mapped out my dreams and aspirations, determined not to end up like a fruit rotting at my mother’s tree.
Yet here I was, a year later, stuck in a dead-end job, living with my grandmother, and longing for the adventure I had planned. I needed to break free, so I booked a round-the-world ticket and convinced Sarah to join me—a year of exploration awaited.
This was meant to be my grand adventure, not a mundane existence of cleaning and cooking for someone else’s family.
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In summary, Glitter and Glue dives deep into the intricate relationship between mothers and daughters, capturing the internal struggles and external experiences that shape our identities. Kelly Corrigan’s journey reflects both the challenges of adulthood and the longing for connection, all while grappling with the voice of her mother that lingers in the background.
Keyphrase: memoir about mothers and daughters
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