Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
Bad Girl House
Returning to school in January of 1996, for my second semester of college, I was hoping to find my friend Connie sometime during the day. We eventually did find each other, and it made me feel good to have someone to sit with during my breaks between classes. Soon after the semester began, a few people from her public speaking class came with her to the student union. One was a short, round fellow, who I think was close to our own age. The other was a short, fit, balding guy of twenty-six who I will call John. Keep in mind that I was still several months away from turning nineteen at this time. At first meeting, John seemed confident and charismatic, but at the same time no-nonsense. Like I normally did, when we hung out in the student union I just sat and listened to the people around me talk to each other. John complained about being penalized for missing classes when he had other responsibilities. He called them adult responsibilities. He talked about having commitments for his job and with his young son. From early on, these things illustrated his disrespect for any type of authority. He felt that he shouldn’t have to answer to his professors, and that he should be able to attend class when it was most convenient for him. It didn’t matter to him that he was required to attend his classes, and that not being there would impact his grades. I would imagine that he had extremely rude interactions with his teachers because of this. John also had plenty of nasty things to say about his ex-wife whenever he discussed his son. From the very first thing I ever heard him say about her, everything in their past was her fault. She was the reason that they were divorced. She was the reason that he didn’t see his son as often as he thought he should. She was the reason he had to pay child support that she wasn’t using the way he thought that she should.
By Kathy Sees5 years ago in Families
Story Time With Winter Madison
Hello readers! Join me on Story Time With Winter Madison as we read stories together. Story Time is a time to relax, snuggle with your favorite stuffed buddy or blanket, and listen to stories read by Winter Madison. Our Storytime Friday started with a fun and colorful book that hilariously takes us through the reasons that you should NEVER give a Unicorn a tutu!
By Winter Madison5 years ago in Families
The Educated Birth
Everything about the decision was risky. In the few years following graduation, Cheyenne had built experience in various spheres of the non-profit sector; she had tackled sizable projects in the communications and marketing spheres; she even became a freelancer and a doula. Yet, as a young, black female, she had quickly grown aware of the obstacles that stood between her and the impact she longed to make. After trying to break through in established non-profits, she was about to take a bold step on her own.
By Paul Granger5 years ago in Families
Ganna's Purse
I am standing in the middle of my grandmother's closet staring at a row of purses in varying shades of blue, rose, white and black. Each one matches several pairs of equally varied shoes placed in twos in the shoe holder hanging on the closet door. The dresses hang behind me blending their colors with their matching counterparts, the shoes, and the purses. And the moth-balled must of her old closet comforts me as I free my favorite of all her purses, the tapestry blue, from its wall hook home.
By Sue Anne Morgan5 years ago in Families
A Father's Advice
There’s nothing quite as satisfying as smelling your dinner being prepared and cooked in the kitchen when you’re so desperately hungry you would eat anything put in front of you, only to have it placed on your lap still steaming from the oven. In this case it was a plate of shepherd’s pie with peas and broccoli on the side with an enormous Yorkshire pudding. The smell of freshly cooked lamb mince, Lea & Perrin’s and gravy filled my nostrils.
By Kevin Long5 years ago in Families
Why I'm Not An Outraged Black Mom
I carefully guard the information I receive from the media. I started doing this a few years before I had children, to improve emotional stability. After nearly 15 years it has become a habit. I highly recommend media detox, especially to parents.
By MeraBaid Kaur5 years ago in Families
Overcoming Loss
I was born in 1981 to a young couple aged 16 and 17, three years later in 1984 my younger sister Mandy was born. When mandy was coming up for her 6th Birthday she began having headaches that became more frequent and more painful. One night we were awoken by a blood curdling scream it was Mandy. We all got up to see what was wrong, she was rolling around in her bed clutching her head complaining of severe pain. Mandy was given Calpol and a warm towel to wrap around her head, she eventually fell back to sleep. The following morning my mum made an emergency appointment at our GP and Mandy was seen, the GP said she has a head cold and that my mum was to give her plenty fluids and rest. My mum was not happy with this advice her gut told her to take my sister to the Accident and Emergency department at the hospital, so she did. When we arrived my mum was asked a number of questions and then we were seated, we were soon called and once the doctor had examined Mandy he wanted to send her for a scan to ensure nothing was going on inside her brain. It was an emergency scan so it was done quite quickly, we were then asked to take a seat and we would be called again once the consultant had gone over her scan. The time came when we were called back, once seated the Consultant turned his chair, took his glasses off and gave a sigh he said "I am very sorry to break this to you but I am afraid your daughter has a brain tumour the size of a small orange located on her brain stem" my mum looked at him with wide eyes he then said "this type of cancer is not operatable im afraid she is terminally ill" he then went on to say that with chemotherapy and radiotherapy it will prolong her life a little and slow the growth of the tumour but thats it. We were given a card and were told to head straight for Edinburgh to the Royal Hospital for Sick Children so Mandy could start her treatment. My mum dropped me off at my Aunts and she headed to the hospital with Mandy. As a young kid myself I was confused at what had just happened but when it was finally explained to me in terms I understood my heart sank. I asked if she would be okay to be told probably not and that it was important I was strong and be there for my sister, I intended to do just that. Mandy was in hopsital for 6 months and my mum and dad would take turns to be there with her, I was allowed to stay on the weekends when I was not at school. My sister looked pail, her long blonde hair was falling out due to the cancer treatment and she was constantly throwing up and felt tired. It saddened me to see my sister this way but I shed my tears when I was alone so she didnt see how upset I was. I looked forward to my visits with Mandy she would always cheer me up and I had the same affect on her. Mandy had her 6th Birthday in the hospital and I must admit they did a very good job holding her a birthday party, some of the kids in the ward also attended it was nice. After 6 months Mandy was allowed home for a month and then she went back in for 2 months and it was like this until Mandy was almost 7 years old. I looked forward to her coming home she always gave me a big hug and a big smile no matter how frail or unwell she was. She had gained a lot of weight due to the steroids she was taking, 11 medicines she took 4 times per day a lot for a small child and she would always complain that they tasted yucky but she took them regardless. When mandy was in doing one of her hospital stays I was told that she was coming home for good, what they meant though was she was coming home to die. We got baloons and banners, cake, sweets, everything that Mandy loved was waiting on her walking through the door. The time came when she arrived I ran outside to greet her but rather than the smile I was used to I was met with a little girl who barely had the energy to walk up the stairs, she wasnt interested in any of the stuff laid out for her she just wanted to go to her bedroom and lie in her bed, we lay there all day me and her just watching her favourite Walt Disney movies and eating cheese and onion crisp as those were her favourite. Mandy's 7th Birthday was approaching and she wanted a pretty dress so one of my Aunts friends came and measured her and made her, her own pretty dress that she designed herself. December came and Mandy was getting iller by the day, on her birthday the 18th December she had no energy to open presents it took her a week to open everything but even at that she had no interest in playing with them despite encouragement from me. My sister was dying and there was nothing I could do about it, Christmas came and went she didnt open any of her presents she just didnt have the energy. On the 5th of January she took her last breath she had just turned 7 and I was 10 at the time, I was distraught inconsolable I just cried and cried and cried. All her christmas presents were stacked neatly at her feet in her small white coffin, I couldnt believe she was gone. The day of her funeral came and the whole town were at their front doors and gathered in the streets of our town to pay their respects. The whole town was in mourning of this special little girl, the cemetry was so full packed I had never seen as many people in the place before. The whole family had a red rose to throw in as she was being lowered this was too much for me to bare and I tried to jump in after her, my father took hold of me and just cuddled me and cried, I had never felt a pain like it I was alone and she was gone. After the funeral we all went back to my house and people came and payed their respects, I lay on my bed and cried hard into the teddy my sister gave me before she passed, she knew im positive of that she knew she was dying.
By Michelle King5 years ago in Families
The Lowland by Jhumpa Lahiri – Book Review: The Intimacy of Political and Personal
The Lowland by Jhumpa Lahiri is an ambitious book. It is a story of brotherly bonds intermingling with a vicious political environment. The two brothers – Subhash and Udayan are just 15 months apart. Subhash is the elder one but he hardly remembers a time that Udayan wasn’t in his life. The two brothers, although similar in age, are poles apart in their personalities.
By Rochi Zalani5 years ago in Families
Slaying the Dragon?
My husband suggested that we write our different perspectives of an experience we had during the middle of last year. This ‘experience’ is better known as The Tail of the Dragon: an eleven-mile piece of asphalt designated US Highway 129 known for its 318 curves over some of the most beautiful hills along the border between North Carolina and Tennessee. Enthusiasts gather at the Harley Davidson store on the Tennessee side or a convenience store on the North Carolina side, and drive across the mountain on a road much like the early 60’s Corvair: unsafe at any speed. While I thoroughly enjoyed the drive – the subtle movement of our convertible BMW pleased me – that trip was something very different for me. We had left home after an amazingly stressful evening, which had brought with it some realizations that could charitably be described as uncomfortable.
By Ken Fendley5 years ago in Families
