Family
My Appa, He called me Sunshine
One night in 2009 my Appa picked up a pistol and clicked it against his chin hoping it would end it all. I was young enough to have no idea what that meant but old enough to remember the cry of my mother and the sight of the gurney bringing him out the front door. I remember the team of surgeons at the hospital rushing to save his life and his clear eyes when he looked at me in the ICU. But this is not my Appas legacy, he was far far more to me.
By Emi 4 years ago in Confessions
For my father
Father, I've wanted to do this challenge, but the words I wish to speak cannot come to my mind. I grew up admiring you, but you were never home, and mother would play the game, "Wait till your father gets home!". That would pin fear into my brother and me to the point that we wanted to cry.
By The Clarkbar844 years ago in Confessions
Guess What? I Love You.
When I was about 9 years old, I made my way through a school gym toward a DJ. The plethora of colored lines that were melded into the rubbery flooring, usually so prominent for sporting events and gym classes, had faded in the dimmer lighting and shadows that accompany a school dance.
By Abigail Penhallegon4 years ago in Confessions
Papa's Song. Top Story - June 2022.
"What was he like, Ma?" It wasn't often that I found the right opportunity to ask her about him. But whenever I did, I was always hesitant. "He... was a musician." My mother always kept her answers short. It hurt her to remember. But she should have known, that it hurt me not to know at all.
By Ann Garcia4 years ago in Confessions
Tears, Ears
For as long as I can remember, it was just me and dad. Growing up, there were a few things I could always count on: Dad’s guidance, a best friend, and popcorn. I guess I’m one of the lucky ones; I know not everyone has a dad in their life, and many more have dads that are subpar. Though we didn’t always have a lot, I knew I could always count on mine, even if it meant watching Star Wars or Star Trek and eating popcorn for dinner. There could be worse things.
By DarkRandall4 years ago in Confessions
We Met in May
When I woke up in the morning, I hazily heard the sound of rain outside and thought it was finally raining. When I opened my eyes, the first image that caught my eyes was the sight of rain pounding on the leaves of the trees. I rubbed my eyes and involuntarily went to the window sill, as if I wanted to reconfirm that I was not seeing things. I saw the rain slipping off the leaves, cleaning the dust left on the surface over and over again, and they revealed their original fresh and green appearance again. The downstairs is sparsely populated with people passing by with umbrellas, some have added a coat, and I seem to feel a coolness coming on. Yes, it really is raining, the rain is just right, a little bigger seems manic, and then a little smaller is too soft, thinking that the crops in the field are finally saved. This is definitely a timely rain to relieve the thirsty and unbearable rain!
By moladda4 years ago in Confessions
Learning to survive.
You are supposed to care and love your family above everything. Thats how I was raised. Take care of your family. I grew up watching my Mother feed and clothe her siblings that couldn't do for themselves. I can't count how many times I had to give up my room or share my bed with a cousin or multiple cousins because they had no where to go or their parent was in jail again.
By Randi Hulme4 years ago in Confessions
A figure clad in respect
I have heard your name from TV, from newspapers, from the words of Yimeng people. I finally met you that day. In the Yimeng Red Sisterhood Memorial Hall, you are speaking for a group of Yimeng veterans who have just been discharged from the army, the story of the Red Sisterhood.
By SondJam4 years ago in Confessions
