Hand-me-down pants that donât quite fit, twilight bike rides down sleepy neighborhood streets, sweaty family camping trips, the things that almost break you, and the things you barely noticeâitâs hard to see the shape of your life until youâre looking back on it.
In this collection of short essays, Danielle Dayney recounts her experiences as an awkward child in the piecemeal family that raised her.
From her biological fatherâs absence to her motherâs battle with cancer to the birth of her daughter, Dayneyâs stories venture beyond anecdote to nest safely among the tangled experiences that shape the people we become. With a keen eye for the pebbles of humor and glim- mers of beauty along the rough roads of her life, Dayney has crafted a book that feels as familiar as a home-cooked meal and as exciting as the first night in a new city.
When Love Sticks Around is a memoir of love, loss, humor, identity, and above all, familyâthe one youâre born into and the one you gather along the way.
Those are the things worth sticking around for.
Hand-me-down pants that donât quite fit, twilight bike rides down sleepy neighborhood streets, sweaty family camping trips, the things that almost break you, and the things you barely noticeâitâs hard to see the shape of your life until youâre looking back on it.
In this collection of short essays, Danielle Dayney recounts her experiences as an awkward child in the piecemeal family that raised her.
From her biological fatherâs absence to her motherâs battle with cancer to the birth of her daughter, Dayneyâs stories venture beyond anecdote to nest safely among the tangled experiences that shape the people we become. With a keen eye for the pebbles of humor and glim- mers of beauty along the rough roads of her life, Dayney has crafted a book that feels as familiar as a home-cooked meal and as exciting as the first night in a new city.
When Love Sticks Around is a memoir of love, loss, humor, identity, and above all, familyâthe one youâre born into and the one you gather along the way.
Those are the things worth sticking around for.
My biological father, Don, spent most of the seventies and eighties spinning records in Toledo, Ohio, at a local hot spot called Reneeâs. He thought he would become famous for his ability to spin records.
One night in the late seventies, Mom asked her cousin, Beatrice, to go out for a night of dancing. Mom and Beatrice hot-rolled their shoul- der-length, feathered hair and slipped into dresses like Elvira Hancockâs from Scarface. Once ready, Mom drove her new Plymouth Barracuda to the south side of town.
They met Don for the first time between his sets. Mom liked that he was a disc jockey, so she approached him at the bar to introduce herself. He liked that she made her own money working as a beautician.
After Don strutted back to the DJ booth, Beatrice said,âHeâs not even your type. Not even good looking.â From photos, I know Don was thin with inky hair like mine, blue eyes, and crooked teeth.
âI know, but thereâs something about him,â said Mom. She liked his smooth swagger.
Don asked her on a date later that night, and Mom said yes.
Mom and Don struggled financially and fought passionately through the early part of their relationship, but she stuck it out with him. She thought she could change him. She gave him every dollar he asked for to support his developing DJ career, and gave up time with friends and family to be only with Don. Mom wanted to stand by him like a âgood girlfriendâ however she could, and he was eager to be successful, no matter the cost.
Mom cut and styled hair in the Lasalle salon downtown, and she was good at pinching pennies when she needed to. But their money ran low. âIâll sell my car and home if that will help,â she offered. Aside from her new car, Mom also owned a trailer home, all at twenty-one.
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Don didnât oppose. They sold both and moved into a small and run- down but functional apartment between downtown and the highway.
I donât know the story of how he proposed, but after theyâd been dat- ing for one year, he put a simple diamond on her finger. They worked out plans for a magnificent outdoor wedding, complete with a floor-length mermaid-cut lace gown and powder blue polyester suits.
Not long after the wedding, I was conceived.
My first name, Danielle, was chosen by my father. At the time, his best friendâand his best man at the weddingâwas a man named Daniel. I donât recall ever meeting Daniel; he was just Donâs buddy. They probably met at the disco, which is also where my middle name, Renee, came from. Don picked my middle name too. Mom liked it because it sounded French, reminding her of our ancestors from Quebec.
âShe has to be named after my mom too,â Mom said.âSheâll have a sec- ond middle name: Ruth.â
After Mom delivered me, Don started working more nights as a DJ. Maybe his initial intentions were good. Maybe he wanted to bring home extra money to keep the itsy-bitsy roof over our heads. But he ended up getting drunk most nights, spending his evenings with girls hanging on him even though a gold wedding ring encircled his finger. Usually, he crawled into bed reeking of alcohol after the sun had already crept up over the horizon.
Night after night, Don worked at Reneeâs and left Mom in the run- down apartment, raising a child on her own. She was too proud to ask for help and too scared to call it quits and leave. But after my first birth- day, when Don drained two thousand dollars in one day from her per- sonal bank account for new records without asking, Mom had finally had enough. She realized that he wasnât going to change. So she packed our bags while Don was at Reneeâs. Grandpa picked us up and took us home to Lagrange Street, where Mom had grown up. She had no money, no fur- niture, no husbandâjust me: Danielle Renee Ruth. She promised to give me the best life she could.
When Love Sticks Around is a poignant and emotional memoir that will make you think about your own life and re-live your own past. Rating someone's life is always difficult, not always fair and almost impossible, so the rating is based on what the reader can get out of this story and also based on the enjoyment level. Everyone's life is different, but Danielle Dayney manages to make her experiences relatable.
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Part of this success is due to the fact that this memoir is beautifully written. Every anecdote is narrated with such emotion that you cannot help but feel what the author felt in that exact moment and you can't help but sympathize with her.
In this memoir, we go through the author's life, from the childhood spent in poverty, but full of love, to her teenagersâ years, to the struggling young adult, to the grown adult who apparently has everything figured out. And every moment is important, impactful and it's easy to forget that this is not a made-up story, but someone's life experiences. It reads more as a journey of self-discovery, heartbreak and joy, highs and lows.
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The only thing that stops this from being a full five stars is the relationship, or lack thereof, with her sister. Sometimes, because of how little she is mentioned, it's hard to remember that this sister even exists. We don't know anything about her. If the relationship with her sister is complicated or they're not close, I cannot tell you. I would have appreciated if the author explored this part more. The relationship with her biological father was very well done, I would have loved to see the same for the sister.
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Overall, this is a beautiful memoir that will definitely leave you emotional and will leave a mark on your heart.