Family
Death Doesn't Pay Rent
It is strange; I admit—that a coming-of-age story should center around Death. This is a story about loss, Death, and how long you should let him stay with you. Trust me; you're not going to want to just 'let him crash at your place' like he says he will. Death is not a good tenant.
By Vonne Vantablack4 years ago in Confessions
How Do You Find Yourself Amid Overwhelming Loss?
I don’t remember the actual moment when we found out that our mother had cancer. We knew that she was having a biopsy, but I don’t remember if they sat us down in the living room, or where exactly we were when our lives changed forever.
By Allison Rice4 years ago in Confessions
Releasing the Warrior Within
In the early days, it seemed that I had rushed through life, without taking any time to grow up. Leaving university to get married. Having children and setting up our household. When I looked at my children or attended a meeting with their teachers at school I often thought, “what on earth am I doing here? I’m still a child.”
By Gail Wylie4 years ago in Confessions
The Moment That Changed Me
The event that changed my life forever is one I will never forget. The person who was my best friend, my mother, my girlfriend, my sister, my rock, my everything passed away. And left me all alone. Without a friend in the world. Or that is the way that I felt. And sometimes that is the way that it was. My mom was an amazing person. And when I lost her… It completely changed my life. And not for the better. When my mom died, I drank… alcohol. I drank probably more alcohol than I should have been drinking. I was not eating and that could have made the drinking worse. I never drank enough to be considered an alcoholic or even drunk, But I am sure if my kids read this article, they would insist even more than they already do, that I do not ever drink again.
By Amanda J Mollett4 years ago in Confessions
Come Home, You don't have a father anymore...
First snow in my life. 3rd January 1997. I was six years old. First day of the second trimester of school. I don’t remember school that day, I’ve never seen real snow, and I was delighted. It’s strange what a children’s mind can remember from a tragic day. Could all of them be from my mind or some of them edited by people that told me the story of that day?
By Sofia Duarte4 years ago in Confessions
The Night My Life Changed
It was my mom’s fifty-sixth birthday. Mom was having a good day despite the Radiation treatments. Mom’s brother, uncle Richard was living with us, my dad, my sister, and me. I was off that night from my security guard job. When I woke up that evening, we surprised mom with a cake.
By Lawson Wallace4 years ago in Confessions
The Baker's Dozen
My eldest son loves roller coasters. He loved them as a child. He loves them still. I am, and have always been, indifferent. However, roller coasters are a great metaphor for our perception of time. I remember sitting in a boring lecture for some course arbitrarily required by the university curriculum. That is how, leaving the station, the unhurried, quiet uphill train climb feels. The cart is swaying and creaking, gravity pulling against the tow chain, its passengers, “scream-less.” But then, in an instant, we might plunge into momentous events. Those moments provide exhilaration that confirms we are alive. As I dip towards the banked sharp curve, left or right, I hope I make the right choices and then navigate them cleanly. This is the nature of the thread of time as we wind our way through life.
By Alexander J. Cameron4 years ago in Confessions
First Taste of Fear
My first memories revolve around a set of nightmares I had as a very young child. My childhood wasn't the worst, but my parents were not ready. My dad was a violent alcoholic. I've heard various rumors about drug abuse but he's never confirmed it. My mother just can't keep her hands off shit that isn't hers. More stories of them are coming. Y'all won't believe some of the things I have to share I'm sure. My first 3 years were full of violence and craziness. Then at 3 my mom was arrested and I was sent to live with my maternal grandparents who raised me. They tried.
By Amaya DreamDriven4 years ago in Confessions
A Stranger named dad
The hustle and bustle of people going to and fro mixed with the electronic beeps, and chimes of metal detectors or ticket terminals came together in a blanket of noise that filed the every inch with buzzing energy. A strange mix of anxiety and excitement seemed to radiate from the crowded waiting chairs by the entry gates, stewardess’s hurried to their positions getting ready to start the boarding process.
By MochiiAmara4 years ago in Confessions
