Family
After The Last Embrace
This text requires all the respect, all the delicacy, all the truth. The death of a child is a wound that has no name. There isn’t a single word in any language that describes a mother who has lost her child — because it’s a loss that overflows the limits of language. It is the deepest, most unfair, most unnatural grief. And though I haven’t lived it, my decision to write about it is an act of love toward those who have — and who so often have done so in silence. Long. Raw. Human. May it embrace whoever needs it.
By luz entre lagrimas3 months ago in Confessions
After The Last Embrace
“When an Argument Stole My Brother/Sister from Me” It wasn’t death. It wasn’t physical distance. It was an argument — one of many. But this time, something broke. Something we didn’t know how to fix. Something left without words, without apologies, without return.
By luz entre lagrimas3 months ago in Confessions
After The Last Embrace
Part I: “When My Grandmother Left, the Slow Fire Went Out” My grandmother wasn’t just an old woman. She was the warm center of everything. The smell of homemade food, the whisper of advice you didn’t ask for but needed, the gaze that read you without a single word.
By luz entre lagrimas3 months ago in Confessions
After The Last Embrace
“When a Mother Leaves, the World Breaks” They say no one is ever ready to lose their mother. And it’s true. Because you don’t just lose a person — you lose your origin, your refuge, the voice that called you my child even when you no longer knew who you were.
By luz entre lagrimas3 months ago in Confessions
A Fragment of My Truth
This is the sad and hard truth about growing up without your biological parents. I was sent to live as a foster kid at a very early age. You don’t really understand why—you’re just bouncing around, confused, longing for mom and dad. Eventually, my maternal mother took charge and brought me and my three sisters together. But soon after, we were separated again. I never felt much connection with my two older sisters, but my little sister and I had a bond. We protected each other—at school, at home, even when we didn’t behave the way our grandmother wanted.
By Teodoro De Jesus3 months ago in Confessions
After The Last Embrace
There is no date. No name. No grave. But there is absence. An absence that can’t be seen, but weighs heavy. That isn’t spoken, but lives in every corner. That isn’t cried out loud, but is carried deep within. Because not having become a mother by circumstance is not just a choice unmade — it’s a life unlived, a love unshared, a dream unfulfilled.
By luz entre lagrimas3 months ago in Confessions
When Hearts Speak Without Words
I met her on a rainy afternoon, the kind of rain that soaks you to the bone and makes the world feel both cold and alive at the same time. I was running late for work, clutching a coffee that had long gone cold, when I saw her standing under a broken umbrella, laughing at the sky as if the storm had arrived just to dance with her.
By Alpha Man3 months ago in Confessions
We Should All Feel Wonderful Every Day
Introduction A ten-year-old post from Seven Days In showing that my attitudes have not changed much. It's just about caring for others and supporting them if you can, and how giving can be as gratifying as receiving.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 3 months ago in Confessions
THE DAY MY MOTHER TOLD ME THE TRUTH ABOUT MY FATHER
I was seventeen when my mother sat me down at the kitchen table, the same one where I had done my homework and eaten birthday cake for years. The afternoon light came through the window, turning the dust in the air into tiny floating stars. She had been quiet all morning, moving slowly, her face pale in a way that made me nervous. I thought she was sick, or maybe she had lost her job. I didn’t expect her to change everything I believed about my life.
By Alpha Man3 months ago in Confessions
