Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
What Parents Can Learn From Distance Learning
It's easy to drown in fear, worry, and bone-deep tired. Almost one year into the pandemic, many parents and their distance learners have gone way past each others last nerves. Parents soldier on, because it's their job, and I watch as kids eyes get glassier with every click of the mouse. Some of you may be reaching the point of returning your kids to school, feeling too spent for this new transition. I won't try to tell you it doesn't suck.
By Chelsea Delaney5 years ago in Families
Sylvie and I
It was summer when it happened. Looking back, I can still feel the soft warm breeze caressing my face and running through my hair giving it that tousled messy look. As the sun set on that seemingly uneventful day, I packed up my picnic, took one last look at the sun setting over the park and walked home, blissfully aware of the fact that I looked a mess and smelled of sweet sweat and fresh grass. I normally didn’t stop to check my mail very often, but I was waiting on a delivery for a new book I’d ordered, I was running out of things to read, which was alarming to me considering that’s all I really did. I opened the mailbox to see an oddly wrapped bundle sitting there. To be honest, I was a little scared to open it and almost just left it.. But curiosity won out over my fears as I quickly unwrapped the strange gift. I must admit I was a little disappointed when all I saw was a normal little black notebook. More confused than ever I opened it, hoping to get more insight on what this was all about, and my confusion heightened as I saw what looked like a plane ticket poking out from between the pages, as if someone had used it for a bookmark. Pulling it out, my heart stopped as I read my name on a ticket for a flight scheduled a week from now, to... oh no, this has to be a joke.. Who on earth could have known about France?! Not just France but Provence.. the place I had read books and I mean book (s) about ever since I was a kid. Ever since I can remember I’d dreamed of wandering around in the lavender fields of Sault or driving through the winding hills of the Valensole plateau but I was sure I’d only spoken about it to family, and the very few friends I had.. who could have known.. or cared enough about this to buy me a plane ticket all these years later.. I flipped through the pages desperately trying to find an explanation to this insane gift, but found nothing.. “I can’t go, there’s just no way, this has to be fake” but even as the words left my lips I was already drifting off into visions of me sipping coffee by the water in Saint-Tropez. I was brought back to reality by my phone ringing from the other room. Sighing, I set the ticket down and went to answer the call. An hour later I was back sitting at the table once again in a state of shock, only this time it was most definitely the bad kind. The call was from my mother, letting me know that my aunt Sylvie had died. I supposed you could say she and I were close. We hadn’t talked in a while, but I spent a lot of time at her house as a kid. People used to tell me that I reminded them of her, I never really knew how to respond to that because Sylvie was known to be..quite the character. But still, she was kind to me and the older I got the more I did start to see parts of her in me. The way she saw the world, her love of the mysterious, it made sense to me why people had made those comments. I mean.. we even started to look a bit alike as I got older. Now she’s gone and her funeral was set for the following week, the very same day as my supposed flight to France.. oh well, “there’s no way I could have gone anyways”...
By Emma garner 5 years ago in Families
What Belongs to Caesar
Shona custom was clear on inheritance issues: sons of the deceased inherited first, daughters next and any grandchildren would then get any minor sums that were remained. And it was with this general understanding that the meeting began. A short, plump lawyer waddled to the podium in the front of the room, opened a sealed box and commenced reading its contents in a voice so monotonous and sluggish that under any other circumstances it would’ve put half the listeners to sleep. The inheritances were read out by name, starting with the eldest son and then gradually moving to the grandchildren. On the whole, sekuru (grandfather), had been generous with his grandchildren, leaving them a few thousand dollars each and it, therefore, came as a surprise to Kudzai, that when his name was read out, no cash amount was announced. Instead, he was called forward to receive what appeared to be a little black notebook. He accepted it with a somewhat bewildered and confused expression on his face and despite his every effort, failed to hide the disappointment that was etched on his face as he returned to his seat at the back, walking down the aisle of chairs that split the room in two, filled with all his relatives.
By Stephen Bhasera5 years ago in Families
There's Always Paris
My grandfather was an elusive character. He wore a blue beret that he bought one summer while on vacation in France. He loved that hat. Strange choice for a man who made a living as a steam fitter. Every once in a while, when I see those black and white photographs of men eating their lunches out of buckets, on steel beams 20 stories up, skyscrapers in the background, I wonder, what would those guys think about my Pop in that blue beret?
By Mary Gormley5 years ago in Families
A Different Life
Katrina was 19 years old when she received the news that her parents died in a car accident. She was away at college when her oldest brother, Jamie, called to tell her the news. She was in shock as her parents rarely drove. They lived in the city and were in walking distance of both their jobs.
By Margaret Rock5 years ago in Families
Little Paper
I was nine years old when Grandpa decided it was time for me to propagate my very own fern. I chose a silver frond from the Ghost Lady that Grandpa had planted for Grandma behind the house. We tucked the frond with its neat rows of sporangia between two pieces of paper and when the spores fell, they created the shadow of a leaf against the white backdrop.
By Kara Ginther5 years ago in Families
Mommy Book
"I’m sure I left it on the counter. Someone is always moving my things." Ron could not be bothered by this. Every day his wife suggests the children have moved her keys, taken her hairbrush and the housekeeper put her towel in the wrong bathroom or moved an important piece of mail. For someone as organized and productive as Molly attempted to be, she was always frazzled or frantically looking for something.
By Michael Everts5 years ago in Families
Where there is love.
Light, then darkness. Smell of blood, green shirts, metal tools. Andy’s gaze on mine, the lower part of his face hidden underneath a green mask matching his hospital gown. One last push; my whole body burning, stretching, aching, crying. I heard the sound as it came down from me, plop, then mustering my last strength I straightened my upper body barely enough, touching the sticky, hairy head with one trembling hand. « It's a girl! », they told me, while laying her against me. My eyes filled with tears and sweat. Wind was banging against the window panes, the fiery dawn light piercing through the glass, touching the bloody head now resting on my breast. Andy leaned towards us, his lips pressed on my forehead, then his broad hand landed on the small body. I could feel the warm flow of blood flowing from inside my thighs when they told me « The placenta has been delivered ». I already knew that, being a midwife. But for that time only, I was the patient.
By Maude Vézina5 years ago in Families
My Irish Granny
"You want me to do what?" I stopped short. I was yelling at my frail little gray-haired granny with her coronet of braids and that lone little whisker hanging from her chin. I'd always wanted to just pull that strange black hair out and tried once as a child. She slapped my hand, and I never tried again. There she was, rocking slowly in that chair padded with what looked like dozens of quilts. It was a big chair and she would be lost in it otherwise. I softened my voice. "Granny, I don't understand why you would want me to do that."
By Kathy Parish5 years ago in Families
