Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
Pie baking hands.
I wish I had my grandmother hands: Pie-baking hands, nimble hands that could mend or make anything. They were soft and smooth and always made me feel better. It's probably because she cooked with butter and tasted everything she made. She said that was the trick. The key to why no one could replicate her food. She said it was full of love and her saliva. We made the face of disgust in her direction and all she said was, "Do you wanna eat your momma;s gravy or mine?" We all knew no matter how hard my momma tried, she couldn't make gravy. That's the day I learned to make food with love and taste everything. Never over salt. "Let them ruin their own food she'd say."
By April Johnson5 years ago in Families
A Mother's Flight
Athena was no stranger to loss. As the mirror of her husband’s eyes closed on her for the final time, she cursed the obtusity of the human race. Rat poison! Her white, heart shaped face betrayed the red rage of her anger, and her feathers ruffled and shivered at the memory of his last desperate breath. With Merlin gone, and her clutch having flown the nest, Athena found herself alone.
By Laura Brown 5 years ago in Families
Aumakua
“Mama wake up, you’re dreaming again… “I saw a white owl …” “Yes, yes mama but you’ve got to get ready for senior citizens your ride will be here in a little while!” It was the highlight of the day for my 82-year-old mom to meet with her friends, she would be missed by her centenarian friends if they did not see her smile today. “Mama, I’ve got a lot to do today, please try your best to get ready quickly”. Going on eight months now …we had established a routine that was working for the two of us. At first it was hard; we both did not plan on her living with me in Barstow. California was far from either of our plans. But here we are. I have second guessed my decision to keep her with me, but I could not let her go back to Samoa without medical support. Who was going to follow up on her cancer, her chemo treatments? My siblings were hesitant to let her stay with me, but I was always the one being the older to make all the decisions. It was decided and that was that. Occasionally she would ask me when she was going back home and I would have to explain to her “Mama, you are with me now, you’re not going back. Please do not miss home so much, we will be happy together, okay?!”
By Nyla Makaiwi Lolotai5 years ago in Families
The Mouse and the Barn Owl
Carrie was sick of the snow. Two days of shivering and nearly starving were plenty. Had she not skillfully removed the cheese wedge from the mouse trap, she would have starved. She could tell by the cramps and pains that labor was close at hand. To add to her misery, a barn owl had made its way into the barn.
By Jim Clevenger5 years ago in Families
Lost and Found
My wife was struggling through labor with my daughter. The doctors told us it's causing too much stress on our little girl who was to be born, and that one of them will not make it. I didn't know what to do or how to stay strong for my wife while she was battling to keep them both alive. I stayed by her side the whole time, it gave her the strength needed. We had a child, Sova.
By Sonny jacobs5 years ago in Families
Crossing Old Sandy
From the time we were old enough to catch crawdads in the nearby creek without getting pinched, my cousins and I were allowed to roam the farmlands nestled between the foothills of the Ozark mountains and the Arkansas River. We’d step out the door of Granny and Pa’s cozy rock-sided house accompanied by an eager pack of farm dogs, work our way through the barn, walk in one door and out the other at each of my aunts’ and uncles’ and great-grandparents homes who all lived “over yonder” or “down yonder” and then set off along the washboard dirt road that my family’s been settled along since the early 1800’s. Up the hill was Granny’s old schoolhouse, still furnished with broken pews and desks, a disheveled time capsule begging our imaginative spirits for dramatic recreations of academic life in the “olden days.”
By April Grist Rhodes5 years ago in Families
Remembrance
I was always trying to get back to her. I dreamed of the ocean again, the cool salt breeze whipping at my face. I stood knee-deep in the ice-cold water as it rushed past me in moderate waves. She stood next to me, her hand in mine. The grip loosened, then dissolved, and I looked next to me and she was gone.
By Cate Falcon5 years ago in Families
For Everything, There is a Time
It was a warm autumn evening, crisp but not cold, dry leaves rustling in the occasional breeze gently filled our ears. In the barn the horses gentle snorts could be heard as they settled into their stalls for the night. As I looked into her deep eyes, the light of the moon softly caressed her silken hair. What wonderful company to have at such a time. We were speaking of things of all seriousness about the meaning of life and the afterlife if one at all.
By Frances De Forrest5 years ago in Families
How to deal with PreTeen & Teen Girls during Online school Thank You Covid19
I wrote this poem on June 9th 1998, when I was just about 14 years old. I have many poems & diary's from past years, some are absolutely awful, other still have the power to make my eyes well up. Perhaps that is because I know in what context they were written in, the people they were written about, & what they actually meant/mean to me.
By Laurie Chambers5 years ago in Families
The Giant Strawberry - Reimagined
Once upon a time, there lived a little girl named Nina. Nina is the only daughter of Elmer and Annie Kantabeee. Nina is a precocious seven-year-old. Her father, Elmer, is a hardworking family man, and oh, how he loves his daughter and his lovely wife, Annie, who has as many freckles on her face as there are stars in the sky. Annie is very protective of little Nina, since Nina is her only child. Nina is a straight A student in Big Sky Middle School.
By Meiko S. Patton5 years ago in Families
