Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
What You Ask For
As soon as I saw it, I knew what it was. It wasn’t supposed to exist – a story made up by my grandfather to excuse his behavior – and yet, I was holding it. My fingers brushed off a layer of dust to reveal the smooth, supple leather covering the little book. There were no marks on the black leather; no initials or embossment indicating what lay between the covers.
By Meredith Bishop5 years ago in Families
Diary of always
21st February, 2021 $20,000. $20,000! Fuck. I didn’t know you even had that kind of money. Whenever we daydreamed together - you in your chair, me on the floor - fantasizing about how our lives might look if we came into a chunk of it, we’d always end our conversations in the same way; my pithy one-liner, your solemn disclaimer:
By Joseph Hughes5 years ago in Families
Post Natal Depression
I was 18 when I fell pregnant, I remember calling my dad to tell him and he hung up on me. I was gutted, my father was like "you are too young to be a mum" says him who had me at age 15. He did come around eventually but his disappointment in me remained. I was happy though and felt ready to be a mum regardless of what others thought. I eventually went into labour 1 week late, Kyle was born at 1:01 am weighing 6lb 4oz. He was perfect and all mine. I had to get a C section as Kyle became distressed this left me having to spend a week in hospital with a catheter. Once home we settled into a routine, I was scared don't get me wrong not having the nurse on hand made me anxious this little bundle of joy relied upon me heavily to meet all his needs and I preyed I was good enough for him. When Kyle was 8 weeks old I was diagnosed with Post-natal depression, the baby blues is what they called it. I felt like a failure, I became very down stopped going outside as my anxiety was through the roof. I was commenced on anti depressants and they did help slightly. When Kyle was 6 months old I left his dad as he was abusive and punched me in the face, I had a life watching my mother being beat up my child was not being exposed to that ever! Leaving him wasn't easy, my depression lifted a bit and I began to feel better. I met someone new he was 18 and I was 21 at the time. We began a relationship and life went on, I fell pregnant again when Kyle was 10 years old, I know a 10 year age gap what was I thinking! Duncan was not happy about the pregnancy he was 28 and loved going out every night he said a baby would destroy his life. He asked me to have an abortion I firmly said "NO" "I am having this baby". Our relationship began to break down, Duncan was going out more and more and I just felt so alone and worthless. Cameron was eventually born, Duncan was very supportive during the labour he surprised me a bit. I had a natural birth with Cammy (Cameron) but it was horrific due to my tail bone being broken by my step dad when I was 11 years old, he kicked me with steel toe cap boots and broke my bone. The xray showed my bone pertruding outwards. As Cammy came down the birth canal he broke my tail bone again and my bladder was bruised. I have never felt pain like this in my life I could not move a muscle pain gripped me at every movement, the nurses looked at me "you shouldn't be in that much pain" I was... I really really was, it felt like someone had stuffed 2 bricks up my bum and sewed it shut. Once I eventually got on my feet we left for home, I had to kneel on the car seat as I could not sit down it was far too painful. Going to the toilet really hurt I had to get 14 stitches so passing urine was impossible I had to stand in the shower with cold water running it was the only way I copd with the pain. Duncan continued to go out every night and left me to deal with Cammy on my own, I was bleeding heavily and just didn't feel well. My mood began to dip... I was diagnosed with Post natal depression again but this time it was much worse. Duncan's mum came for a visit one day and I was crawling around the floor as I had no strength and I was breathless, I went to hospital my iron was low so I was commenced on high dose iron tablets 3 times per day and I had bloods done fortnightly. Duncan began to be abusive towards me his words were cruel he made me feel like a nothing, he had no understanding of what I was going through at all. I began to feel no good and that everyone would benefit if I wasn't here. My thoughts were dark and they were consuming me. I had Cammy into a routine, one morning I put Cammy's coat on and put him in his pram I put my coat on and opened the door, then a huge wave of anxiety came across me I closed the door and sat on the stair I put my head in my hands and cried hard! I felt no good, I felt worthless and useless. I made the choice to end my life. I know a bit extreme but let me tell you Post natal depression is serious it is a dark dark place at times. I gave Cammy his bottle got him changed and settled him into his little cushion, he was safe. Duncan got in from work aroud 5pm and Cammy always slept for a cople of hours at this time. I went up to my room, I pushed my drawers in front of the door, got the tie off my dressing gown tied it to the light fitting and used the step ladders to stand on. I got up on the laddder gave a large sigh and put it around my neck, I kicked the step ladder away and a sharp tug hit my throat, it burned and them it stopped as I fell crashing to the floor again I cried hard. It wasn't my time. I got up and pretended nothing happened. It was nearing xmas time, I chose to stay at home that day and I didn't open my present until Jan and that was onky because Duncan was nipping my ear about opening them. I just wasn't in the mood. My depression started to life when Cammy was 9 months old, my relationship still had issues and we eventually broke up 15 years we were together. Sadly he ended hi life not long after this and so this has left Cammy without a dad and it effects him, it breaks my heart to see how broken his wee heart is. For people who have got or who is living with someone with this horrible condition. We just need support and a hug that tells us everything will be okay. We need to be able to feel and not made to feel guilty for feeling down all the time, believe me no one chooses to be down there is always a reason. It will test people's relationships and it will test you as a person. I am trying for another baby... I have met a wonderful man. Am I scared about post natal depression... honestly I was but now I am in a better frame of mind and feel strong enough, and if I do I know my partner has my back and he has the most wonderful understanding, he is perfect in every way to me and for me, he is my soulmate. Cammy is now 10 I know!! age gaps lol. I feel stronger tha never now and in a more positive frame of mind, post natal depression is debilitating for the peope who have it and its stressful for the person who has to live with it but with support and love it can be overcome. I wil have to have another C section as Cammy's birth really traumatised me, I would rather have 10 C sections than a natural birth, 21 weeks it took me to sit on my bum it was the most pain I have ever been in much much worse than the labour itself. My fellow warriors stay strong and stay safe.
By Michelle King5 years ago in Families
The Final Gift
I stood sipping hot chamomile tea while browsing books. The book store on Main street had been around for decades and recently renovated the old home video store next door. The expansion of a café ended up being a great addition to the book store, bringing in new costumers and thus salvaging a potentially dying business.
By Shawndra Elder5 years ago in Families
Apple Communion
My daughter walks over to me. I'm still lying in our hammock. When she reaches me, I slide over and sit in the hammock sideways, gesture with a head nod, wordlessly asking her if she wants to join me. She doesn't of course. This is how it starts. It's always the same. She walks over, no words, I ask her to sit (with no words), she declines. Then she pulls the scarf from her head; her red hair falls around her neck and shoulders. She gestures like some vaudeville magician, carefully showing me both sides of her navy-blue silk scarf. Next, she dangles the scarf with two fingers while she uses two fingers from her other hand to grasp at the silk and pull it slowly through her fingers. She repeats this gesture. The subtext here is 'look, there's nothing contained within the folds of my scarf.' Still part of the ritual; always the same. Next, with impeccable timing, she again grasps the silk by two corners, quickly shows me the front and back several times. Finally, she extends one hand under the silk and lets the material parachute, slowly settling over her little palm, her little fingers discernible through the silk. The other hand emerges and she shows me both sides of this hand too while cheekily grinning at me. That hand then grasps one corner of the silk and I feel my chest tighten as my eyes go wide. This is rapture for me. She quickly pulls the silk aside and in the center of her little palm, where it has no logical reason or right for being, is a red delicious apple; a big juicy one. A little bigger than the one she produced last time if my memory serves.
By Shawn Ingram5 years ago in Families
Unfinished
March 12, 2021. The long-awaited day. Today I dare to say that luck, or perhaps my never-before recognized gifts, could change my life. Today is the day I dial the foreign number belonging to the child I haven't seen for far too long... For as long as, there’s not only a legal jargon keeping us apart, but also the abysmal distance between two non-allied countries. Not to mention the restrictions of a pandemic and a sum of money I never manage to save, but that would solve everything... Because money opens doors, oh yes, it doesn’t buy happiness they say, but it surely buys those who can give it to you. For years I’ve tried to buy mine but, after endless dreams and unfulfilled promises, thousands of hours worked and 20 books published without the expected success, the $20,000 prize of this literary competition is the only remaining path between my family and me.
By Medusa Stone5 years ago in Families
And So It Shall Be...
Walking down 9th street towards his mother's house a few blocks further on, Deshawn comes upon what looks to be a large pile of clothes off to the side. As he starts to step around it a man's shaggy head lift's from where he was laying and he peers up at Deshawn.
By Maiye Waller & Dorian Dillard5 years ago in Families
One thing was clear
Aunt Aurelia wasn’t my aunt’s real name. She was christened Jane. But she’d reinvented herself in her early thirties, swapping jumpers and jeans for long skirts and belted silk jackets. Cropped hair for long curls and head scarves. Plain Jane for mystical Aurelia. Almost overnight, what was a general curiosity about the occult became a business operated from my aunt’s sitting room. Complete with onyx crystal ball.
By Lottie Grant5 years ago in Families
Sundays Are For Redemption
The sun always seems to shine brighter on Sundays. Go figure. I guess the day is named for it after all. I really wish it wouldn’t be so damn bright and joyful. The denim overalls I’m wearing are trapping in the heat like Mama’s old oven, and I can already feel sweat dampening my thighs so the material chafes my skin. Jean is the worst for chafing. If it gets real bad, you end up with little traces of blue fabric stuck in the open sores. Not easy to get out. I awkwardly hop around trying to tug at the overalls and shift them into a more comfortable position. It doesn’t help that they are about two sizes too small and I should’ve gotten a new pair over a year ago.
By Samantha Kaszas5 years ago in Families
