The Flash Memoir Contest Winners Are
Please join us in congratulating the winners of our Flash Memoir Contest. Discover their impactful stories and insights.
Below you’ll find their names, the names of their pieces, and the dates they will appear.
You can read why each one appealed below the story. Flash Memoir is a form worth pursuing. For ours we ask for 750 words or less. While we prefer that you focus on one incident, some of these focused on a recurring issue, which seemed reasonable given the fact that they illustrated something that had a major impact on the author’s life.
You can enter your stories in our Flash Fiction Contest, which is open now, our Flash Prose Contest, which opens in July, or our next Flash Memoir Contest which opens in January of 2027.
4/01/26 From Scratch By Caitlyn Tanner
4/07 Staying By Judy Halper
4/14/26 Berries and Bugs By Katelyn Goodheart
4/21/26 THE PHLEBOTOMIST By Liz Stone
4/28/26 Interwoven Love Stories By Marilyn Dykstra
5/05/26 Shen By Robin Anderson
5/12/26 Feed the Meter By Sarah Pascarella
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From Scratch
By Caitlyn Tanner
Mothers-in-law are like medication side effects – you assume they won’t be a problem until they make their surprise appearance.
Mine was standing in my kitchen, critiquing my every move. She had brought everything but the kitchen sink to our house for a weekend stay.
Kathy was an excellent from-scratch chef.
I was raised on frozen TV dinners and canned beans.
“I always use fresh grated cheese when I make cheese dip”, she said through pursed lips as I chucked a block of Velveeta into the crockpot.
I didn’t know what to say – so I said nothing.
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At the baby shower for our first child, Kathy handed me a recipe to make my own baby wipes.
“These are so much cheaper to make than buying wipes!”, she boasted. “I used this recipe for years while I stayed home with my kids.”.
At best, I might have ten weeks off work after the baby came. I barely had enough time to take care of myself during pregnancy – much less make my own baby wipes like Suzy Homemaker. I was terrified of what life would look like with a newborn in a household run by two full-time career parents.
I didn’t know how to tell her, so I just smiled and nodded.
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Ten days after our son was born, Kathy came to visit.
I had undergone an emergency cesarean section and was recovering slowly—both physically and emotionally. Everything hurt. I was exhausted, and my breasts weren’t producing enough milk. The pediatrician prescribed powdered formula because our baby wasn’t getting enough nutrients and was losing weight.
“I breastfed all three of my children for the first year,” Kathy proudly announced.
“Kathy cooked and hosted Christmas dinner for an entire ship of Naval officers the day after she had Ethan,” added my father-in-law. “She gave birth to all three of our children naturally”.
Kathy rocked the baby as he slept. I silently prayed she would keep him asleep long enough for me to take a nap.
I already felt like a failure as a mother. No natural, unmedicated birth. No exclusive breast milk. No idea how I would ever manage going back to work. A lump rose in my throat. I wanted to break down and cry, but I swallowed hard and forced it back.
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“If you wash these with mild soap and water, you can use them at least ten times,” Kathy sang as I watched her clean an inside-out Ziploc sandwich bag in the sink with Dawn and a soft sponge.
I was dying inside, wondering what would possess someone to wash and reuse disposables this way.
“It saves money and is better for the environment,” she added.
She had made cinnamon rolls from scratch using whole-grain flour. The sight and smell made my mouth water as I watched them bake through the oven glass.
“These are the best cinnamon rolls I’ve ever had, Kathy,” I said, stuffing one into my mouth.
“I’ll share the recipe!” she exclaimed.
“Oh, I don’t think I could make these as well as you.”
Kathy just smiled.
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“You can eat whatever you can tolerate when you get home,” the doctor told Kathy. “But start with liquids and soft foods. Take it slowly.”
Kathy was being discharged from the hospital after a month of tube feeding. It was March, and the doctors estimated she would die before the end of the year. She had late-stage pancreatic cancer. Our family was distraught.
“I’ll make you anything you want, Kathy,” I said.
It was the only thing I could think of to say, and it felt stupid—offering to make food for a gourmet chef. Besides, what help could I possibly offer someone who was about to die?
“OK,” she said weakly.
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“Cheesecake,” she said to me one day. “Store-bought cheesecake is the worst. You have to make it from scratch, with fresh lemon—and don’t let it crack.”
I scoured the internet, found a recipe, bought the ingredients, and did my best to follow everything she had taught me.
There is no way I’ll pull this off, I thought.
That night, I served her a slice. She pressed her fork into it. I held my breath as she lifted the first bite to her lips.
Her eyes closed gently, the corners of her mouth curling into a smile.
“It’s perfect,” she said, opening her eyes and meeting mine across the table.
We held each other’s gaze for a long moment. I had finally earned her approval.
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Caitlyn Tanner is an Entrepreneur, Fitness Enthusiast, World-Traveler and semi-retired Pharmacist. She finds joy in expressing herself through writing, crafting, painting and music. She lives in San Carlos, Sonora, Mexico with her husband and two sons.
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Editor’s Comments: We liked this because the characters, attitudes, and problem solving were all shown so clearly. Each mini-memoirs contributed effectively to the whole, proving that there’s more than one way to do this. Well done.
