Family

My First Love
It sounds quirky, but it is true. My father was probably my first love. Sounds a bit weird saying it, but he really was. I don't really have a clear memory of it, but everyone tells me that I was determined to marry him when I grew up.
By Ayumi Hino Gerads4 years ago in Confessions
My Father's Ghosts
There is a great good fortune in having loving parents close at hand. There can be a great good fortune in the natural beauty and quality of the places in which we spend our youth. As a child, I could not properly appreciate these. I was unaware of just how fortunate I was until a friend of mine from college visited my childhood home. Seeing the view from my parents' balcony, seeing the verdant surroundings and large lot of the house, he said simply, "You do realize you grew up in a paradise?"
By Stéphane Dreyfus4 years ago in Confessions
One Final Goodbye
Dear Angel, Happy Birthday! Today marks your 43 birthday, or what was supposed to be. It’s been five years since we celebrated a birthday with you here on Earth. Let me tell you; it has been a very long five years. So much has happened, so many accomplishments, graduations, and milestones, and you weren’t there for any of them. I can only hope you were there in spirit, cheering me on from the other side.
By Emmie Falbo4 years ago in Confessions
Home, the one on that hill
When I was a child, I lived in this end of the mountain, but the moon cake seller lives in that end of the mountain, and when I grew up, I also lived in that end of the moon cake seller, but could not find home in that mountain.
By dawjackson4 years ago in Confessions
The Lawn Mower, The Television and The Freezer
It appears that the Hyde Sisters (that would be me and two of my sisters) enjoy getting their hands a little dirty and will do almost anything to get things done - because as Dara stated yesterday "It was Jeremy's fault." (Or Victor's).
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 years ago in Confessions
I Never Told You
Hey Mom, I never told you, but one day I was at the park and you came to my mind. Usually, I would go and play a little tennis but not that particular day. I went to the park and I was listening to some of my favorite songs. I started to sing along, practicing almost like I was in a choir. It was a beautiful day with the sun out. Children were playing on the swings, parents were watching them sitting nearby, and I thought of you. I'm not completely sure why I thought about you. Maybe it was because it reminded me of when we used to go to the amusement park with Dad and play on the amusement rides till evening came. You would give us some change and off we would go. I especially enjoyed riding on the go carts. It made me feel like a grown-up. Then we would finally find a place in the shade and enjoy some ice-cream before we left for the day. I was at the park when I remembered that.
By Akpene4 years ago in Confessions
Through a magnifying glass to find a father
Looking back, I don't remember ever saying Happy Father's Day to my father. We were all so busy rushing headlong into this business of eking out and forging a livable existence, that the little important things got lost along the way. So now I will have to reserve that honor for our meeting in the afterlife. May you rest in peace, father dear.
By Novel Allen4 years ago in Confessions
A Song From my Father
The Lesson is more reliable than the memory My father is not a proud man. Not in the traditional sense. He appears reserved, even stoic in the way people abuse the term these days. It was not until much later in life that I began to see how deep that man’s feelings ran. Still waters and all that. As anyone whose primary love language is acts of service, his affection could always be found in the doing. The effort. The meaning of which can truly be felt and measured in direct proportion to the often obscene demands on such people’s time.
By Andrew Rockman4 years ago in Confessions
The Lost soul
Father, My unseen strength, in fear, My indescribable power, in courage, My pal, who does not accompany me on walks, My confidence, in standing behind me and guiding me.
By Asi4 years ago in Confessions
My Father, My Dad
Growing up I was never very close to my father. He was a hard working man who never missed a day of work or passed up an opportunity for overtime. Yet when he came home from work, he wanted his dinner, his newspaper, and time to watch tv for a bit, often falling asleep in his chair which no one else was permitted to occupy.
By John Markham4 years ago in Confessions
I Have A Really Good Dad
I have a really good dad. Honestly, I never thought I would be writing about him, let alone submitting something like this to the world. You see, my relationship with my father has always been a quiet affection. What I mean by that is that I can’t ever remember a time where he said the words ‘I love you’, but I have also never felt unloved. He has always been there for me, doing everything within his power to keep me safe, giving me a great life, and I owe much of who I am today to him.
By Cuthbert Black4 years ago in Confessions
Confession From a Girl With Daddy Issues
So only my therapist knows about this, but I feel like I should tell a bunch of strangers about it. I always thought my parents were married, but one day while I was looking for my social security card for my new job I found out that my parents were actually divorced. They threw in the towel shortly after I was born and for the next eighteen years pretended like they were still together. I should’ve known there was something wrong when my mom refused to sleep in the same bed with my dad. Even long after I turned eighteen they pretended to be married.
By Linda Serrano4 years ago in Confessions