Kissing the World Goodbye

 By Jennifer Clark

Unsolicited Press     2022

186 pages     Memoir

I must say two things at the outset of this look at Kissing the World Goodbye. First, Jennifer is my friend. Together, we created and edited an anthology called Immigration and Justice for Our Neighbor several years ago as a fund raiser for the Justice for Our Neighbor organization at our church. Then, I had no idea what I was getting into when I began reading her newest book. I knew that she was a thoughtful poet and a good cook, but I had no idea how funny, ironic, and sarcastic she could be when writing memoirs and essays. I have read her poetry, but this memoir is a scene all of its own! 

The  book is dedicated to Jennifer’s brother and sister, although they bear some of the brunt of Jennifer’s sarcasm, particularly her sister. Ironically, she notes that her sister didn’t want her real name in the book—no surprise there—so she is called Holly. There is some nostalgia present as Jennifer discusses her father’s career as a biologist and professor, and she mentions things that she learned from him, particularly about insects—his specialty. The essays also include thoughts about his dying and the family’s response to his illness and death.

Some of the essays are ridiculous but immersive at the same time. For example, I never even thought about Ernest Borgnine’s eyebrows, but after reading the essay about him, now I care. I had to Google him to see if he were still alive (died 2012) and to check to see if I remembered his eyebrows. Another essay concerns Jennifer’s first trip to Costco with her sister. The final sentence in the chapter: “Before today, I never knew I needed them.” That sums up Costco in a few words.

Nostalgic memories chased me when I was reading the essay about margarine. There was a time when margarine couldn’t be sold in midwestern states, like Wisconsin—and Minnesota, I might add. We get a political education about why margarine is an important food, but also why butter is “the product of a grudgeless cow.” I have to add my own recollections to all of Jennifer’s meanderings. As a little girl, margarine could not be sold in Minnesota, but you could get it in Iowa. My extremely frugal grandmother would buy cases of it when she was visiting relatives in Iowa and distribute it among family members. At that time, it was white and came in a one pound package with a little orange button of food coloring on the top of the plastic packaging. Grandma would pass the packages out to grandchildren, and we would have a contest to see who could do the best job getting the orange color mixed through the white goo. The winner got toast with margarine on top as the prize. How gross, now that I think about it!

Mixed in with this odd assortment of essays, we find an unusual  assortment of recipes. I haven’t tried any yet, because I have to buy some of the ingredients—on my next trip to Costco, I might add. I was especially intrigued by the spoon-bending noodles and the crock pot macaroni and cheese. Oh, and I am definitely going to try the “Best Kung Pao Chicken Recipe Ever.”

Through it all, Jennifer’s words speak so truly and lovingly about life and death, but especially about the bonds of family. She says, “Call it a keen aptitude for forgiveness or a defective short-term memory gene; our family is not one to hold grudges. It’s one of our best qualities.” I know Jennifer; I know some of her family. She speaks the truth, even if some of  her truths cause you to scratch your head.

Dear readers, you will love this book as much as I did. I loved the random thoughts, the recipes, the humor, and the pathos. Here is Jennifer’s website.