Born Again Again(Un)Gratitude By Carol Howard Merritt November 17, 2014ShareShare on TwitterShare on FacebookEmail to a friendPrint I stood in my bedroom, pacing. I was on the phone with my mom, scribbling notes on a sticky pad. I had tried to weave together the story of my life and found so many gaping holes that only she could fill. Where did it occur? When did that happen? We would love to hear from you. Let us know what you think about this article by writing a letter to the editors.