Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
The Love that Binds
It was time. She knew that if she didn't do it now, she would never be able to. Slowly, she made her way to the garage, pausing at the front door, casting an agonised glance over her shoulder at the pictures on the piano - memories of her children as teenagers, full of life, full of mischief and full of hope for the futures they would create. Their grins made her smile.
By Viktoria Staunton5 years ago in Families
5 Things that Postpone Independence
Allowing lectures from your parents as an adult As long as they think it's normal to sit you down for a lecture, you are still dependent. Somewhere in the back of your mind establishing this boundary isn't worth the trouble. In all honesty, that boundary can save a world of power struggling if you establish it early.
By Bekah Kent5 years ago in Families
Bad Girl House
My name is Jessica, and I’m five years old. This is the morning that I’m supposed to leave. I’m going to a place that my dad keeps calling the Bad Girl House. He’s been counting down the days on the calendar in the kitchen. He’s been telling me every morning how many days I have left at home. Today has a big, red zero on it. My dad just woke me up, and told me to hurry up and get dressed. He wants to get moving right away. I feel all shaky, and my stomach hurts. Maybe he’s just kidding, and he’ll just give me a long talk about being good. My dad is stuffing some of my clothes in the backpack that I usually take to school. He says that I’m not allowed to take any of my toys with me, but I think I’m going to hide my favorite doll under my jacket. Her name is Cassie. I think she’ll fit if I’m careful enough. I wish that I could take my blanket too. It would help me not feel so nervous when I have to sleep somewhere different. My dad has talked about the Bad Girl House for as long as I can remember. He always said that if I kept doing bad things, and not listen to him, that I would have to go there. Usually when I was bad, I’d have to sit in my room for a really long time. Sometimes I’d get hit on the bottom with a wooden spoon from the kitchen drawer. A couple times he grabbed my face, and told me to stop crying. That only made it worse, because I couldn’t breathe. I remember mommy yelling at him, and trying to get his hand off of my face. I end up sitting in my room most days, and it feels like forever. I don’t understand what I’m doing that’s so bad, and what makes him so mad at me. Sometimes I’ll just be playing with my toys, and he’ll start yelling about something. Sometimes not finishing my dinner makes him mad. Sometimes I bump my cup, and it falls on the floor, and he yells about the mess. I don’t even remember what made him mad enough to start the countdown for the Bad Girl House.
By Kathy Sees5 years ago in Families
Cherry Run Down by the River
The year was 1975 and a time when older children could safely ride their bikes on back roads alone. My brother, Richard and I were often traveling the roads on our bikes for enjoyment during the summer months. We had cool bikes and would often travel the long dusty dirt road from our home to Cherry Run Road. My candy apple red bike was equipped with a flower-patterned banana seat and basket. It reminded me of Jan Brady’s bike. She was my favorite “Brady”, not Marsha. Richard rode a dark purple bike fashioned with a steering wheel instead of handlebars. Pap Fox had purchased it at an auction. Also, note Cherry Run Road was named after a runaway cow.
By Susan Starliper5 years ago in Families
Mommy's Scared
I think about the first time we locked eyes moments after her birth. I saw a familiar soul and a face I somehow already recognized. In that minute I made the connection that every mother makes and never before had I felt so complete. The first few days were so scary - I was completely responsible for everything she needed.
By Marissa Olivier5 years ago in Families
Cherry Run Down by the River
The year was 1975 and a time when older children could safely ride their bikes on back roads alone. My brother, Richard and I were often traveling the roads on our bikes for enjoyment during the summer months. We had cool bikes and would often travel the long dusty dirt road from our home to Cherry Run Road. My candy apple red bike was equipped with a flower-patterned banana seat and basket. It reminded me of Jan Brady’s bike. She was my favorite “Brady”, not Marsha. Richard rode a dark purple bike fashioned with a steering wheel instead of handlebars. Pap Fox had purchased it at an auction. Also, note Cherry Run Road was named after a runaway cow.
By Susan Starliper5 years ago in Families
Skin No Darker Than a Brown Paper Bag
Skin No Darker Than a Brown Paper Bag By Kami Bryant My mother was a blonde and blue-eyed Caucasian and my father is a black man. That heritage classifies me as mixed or mulatto. My heritage also qualifies me as neither white nor black but both. It also makes it so I don’t quite fit in to one racial box. I typically either mark both boxes white and black or sometimes two or more races. I used to mark the ‘Other’ category when questioned about my race.
By Kami Bryant5 years ago in Families
Beth's Big Move
Beth parks the car in the garage, hits the garage door button and bursts excitedly through the garage access door. “Honey, you’ll never believe what just happened! Never in a million years!” George gets up from his easy chair and approaches Beth. “OK, OK, calm down a bit. Wow, something’s got you all..” “I just won $20,000!! Look at this scratch-off card!” Her husband replies, “you bought scratch-off cards?! Why? We both know those things are for idio…” “Just please look at this!" George skeptically examines the card. “My God, Beth, you’re right!! It looks like a winning lottery card!” Beth exclaims, “I never win anything! This is so strange!” The two start hugging and hopping up and down and dancing on the kitchen floor. Then, George’s brain immediately kicks into overdrive. “Let’s take a trip! Or, no! A new car! The old pickup has over 200,000 miles on it. Maybe this is a sign. Maybe it’s time. What are your thoughts? What do you want to do with it?!” How to spend it hadn’t really crossed Beth’s mind; she was still basking in the glow of having actually won something. How should they spend it? A vacation? New car? Give it to their boys? “Well…I really don’t know yet. Can I think about it?” “Yeah, of course! Let it sink in, we’ll redeem the card at the regional lottery center, and we can both start thinking about our options.” “OK, that sounds good! Thanks, hon.” The rest of the day was carefree, quiet and restful.
By Michael Hemenway5 years ago in Families
