Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
When my Dad left
When I was a sophomore in high school I received a notice while in my biology class that there was a call for me at the front office and I should be ready to go home for the day. I grabbed my backpack, book and notebook and was ushered towards the office by some receptionist person that I had never seen before. I was getting sweaty walking the halls with this unknown woman, struggling to put my things away in my pack as we were walking. Part of me was excited to leave school, but another part of me felt like the reason I could be leaving might be serious so I was getting more anxious as we approached the office. Upon entering, I was instructed by the principal to pick up the phone on the counter. I picked up the phone and said hello, it was my mother letting me know she was going to pick me and my sister up to take us home and to be ready outside the school in 15 minutes. I hung up the phone and turned around and there was my sister, just as anxious as I was. She asked me what was going on, and I shrugged my shoulders and told her mom was coming to get us and we needed to meet her outside.
By HEATHER CLARIDGE5 years ago in Families
My Favorite Addiction
♥️♥️♥️ My Love for Diet Coke ♥️♥️♥️ I love my warm, cozy bed in the morning times. Time to leave the comfort of snuggling up with either Cassie or Duke for the bathroom! Morning after morning, my bladder drags me out of bed before I wish, but here we go for another day. As my feet hit the ground, before I even stop at the bathroom, I scurry my cold bare feet across the kitchen floor for my main priority at that moment, my first Diet Coke for the day! I mention the bare feet because there have been too many mornings that my toes RAM right into a dog bone that Duke has deliberately placed. 😖
By Amanda Jones5 years ago in Families
Just My Luck
JUST MY LUCK Ever since Nan died my girlfriend and I visited my Granddad every Wednesday evening and took him down the local pub. This was mainly to get him out of the house and have some social contact to help keep his spirits up. He had lived in the village all his life and was quite a character, everyone would say hello when we walked into the pub. The village pub was a thatched white washed timber framed building called The Royal Oak. It had an L shaped floor plan with the toilets and pub games section in the small straight section and the bar and main seating area in the other longer straight section. The wooden furniture was stained a dark brown and there were some church pew type seats strategically placed in the nooks and crannies to make the most of the space. There were three bar stools along a short and cramped bar that had the usual set of brass taps, a couple of other pumps and one of those soft drink dispensing hose, the sort that spouted mixed syrups and carbonated water when you pressed the button, like a soda stream. On every chair was a cushion covered in red velvet material that you could write rude messages on if you used your finger to brush against the direction the fabric was going in.
By Jamie Irons5 years ago in Families
Our children
When you bring a child into your life it’s the most beautiful blessing you can get. You see them grow and experience their milestones with them. Their smiles and laughs are the most beautiful things that can brighten up your world even more. They are so innocent in these stages and beautiful.
By Gabriela Marcial5 years ago in Families
Things a smile can’t tell you
Today I am going to take you back to when I was about 15-16 years old give or take. I remember like it was yesterday. I love my mom, but, I would lying if I said there were times in my life, on multiple occasions where I felt less than loved. One would even argue that I was seemingly uncared for. The thing about familial relationships, especially those with our mothers, they tend to be complex. When you’re like me and understand people almost to a fault. You tend to not lay blame on them, and more so, turn the blame, guilt and shame on yourself. If you ask me what circumstances were leading up to this event in my life. I would not be able to tell you because there was no “moment”. There was not a single thing I did wrong to anger my mom as much as I did that day or need to go through that situation as young teenager. I remember we were talking in her room one moment, and another moment passed and it was like someone flipped a switch and my mom was gone. She was replaced by an angry, hateful women in front of me who seemingly was filled with rage. She made a comment and I responded, and I remember specifically that she lifted her hand to slap me, and I caught her wrist. I could feel the sensation of terror creeping up on me, realizing what I had just done. Defend myself, because in the Puerto Rican culture, god forbid you defend yourself from abuse. Let’s call it what it is, it’s not corporal punishment, it’s abusive behavior. After I caught her hand, any chance of my mom being in there had all but deminished by now. She kept at me and put both hands around my neck. She was now choking me and holding me against the wall. I was fucking terrified. I just started panicking thinking to myself “why the fuck didn’t you just let her slap you”. Her grip was tightening and I was choking. It started to really set in. Oh shit, my mom is choking me. I grabbed at her wrists until she let me go. I caught my breath for a second and ran to the phone. “If you fucking touch me again, I will call the cops on you for abuse”. My mom got this frightening look in her eyes like she might really hurt me, as though, hurting me might bring her some actual joy. She looked crazed, like she snapped. My stomach sank at her response “oh yeah you little bitch ? I’ll you a reason to call the cops. She kept at me again, we struggled against her bed because she was trying to pin me down, and, was just swiping at me and hitting me. I jumped on to the bed and grabbed her chair that was in front of her vanity. At this point I was fucking absolutely terrified. My mom had been long gone in this moment. Replaced by what I would later find out was likely the irrational, abusive behavior of a cocaine addict. Which, was not uncommon in my family, I was just a kid though, and, I didn’t know any better. I held the chair up to her, shaking, and yelling for my brother or sister. I was holding the chair with one hand with the legs facing towards her like a lion tamer trying to hold off a lion. I used the other hand to bang on the wall as hard as I could until my scared brother and sister ran across the street to get my grandparents. They showed up about 5 minutes later, which felt like an eternity. They escorted me out of the house, sobbing, and a mess. While I listened to my mom say awful things about me and how ungrateful I was. Me being an ungrateful little bitch, is a pattern in my family, you’ll learn more about that in another article. But for now, I wanted to share this experience because it is one that traumatized me, and stayed with me into adulthood. I can recall this as though it happened yesterday. I have had to examine a lot of not only friendships but familial relationships after having my daughter, because, it has triggered me into wondering what kind of parent I will be and want to be. Could I ever do those things to my own daughter ? Probably not. It also leads me to question, why, culturally this is acceptable behavior. Why is it that Puerto Rican parents are so suffocatingly controlling ? Why are you treated like an extension of them and not your own person ? So many questions and no real logical answers. The only thing I can do because I cannot change the past, is move forward and be a better parent, and, break the cycle. My daughter will NEVER know such pain, such guilt, such unresolved anger towards me. I will not put her through that, ever.
By Juli Cofresi5 years ago in Families
The owl of hope
I am sitting silently by the window, watching the sunset, feeling the leaves fall, and listening to the songs of sundown that the wind is whistling. My nerves have calmed since them gunshots earlier and my hand has finally stopped shakin. I never knew I would be the one to take care of such things. But life has plans for all of us. Thankfully the ringing in my ear has been gone for a couple of hours, and I am finally feeling more at peace. I was well aware that farm life is not easy and sacrifices must be made, but these feelings? Well I don’t remember signing up for those too. That done feels like too much, and life out here already ain’t easy.
By Helen Del toro5 years ago in Families
Beds are the best people
“You can take anything else you like but you're not taking my bed,” I told my ex as he moved out. I honestly didn't care about the rest. The TV, couch, dining table, washing machine, take it all. Just not my bed. I would be fine, find a way to survive without it. The bed on the other hand I don't know how I would survive without that.
By Sarah Barrie5 years ago in Families
A Bob's Life
I think I may be living my life backwards in some kind of Benjamin Button distortion where I still age normally but all of my life-shaping events are happening at the end of my life instead of the beginning. At the tender age of 57 I have a house full of children, a wife who gets up every morning and teaches at the local Middle School, and a pony-tail. I will now attempt to explain how I got here.
By Bob Collings5 years ago in Families
"My Cozy Corner"
Our five bedroom home shelters myself, my husband, my daughter, my son in law, and my three grandchildren ages 16,14, and 3. Prior to covid, on any given day, you could add an extra five to fifteen teenagers, (sometimes more!) plus five to ten friends with their children who are visiting my daughter and her husband, at times a friend or two who are visiting me and my husband, oh and my other daughter and my son, their children and their significant others must be added to the total as well! Needless to say our home is active, full of laughter, love and chaos!
By Pamela Walsh-Holte5 years ago in Families
from young and madly in love to loving your young, madly.
From young and madly in love to loving your young, madly. there is a time in your life (the twenties) that everything revolves around love. finding love. making love last. accepting love into your heart. you get the idea. it is also around that time that getting into the “right”club or arriving late to the “in”party would harmonize with my pursuit of finding eternal and lasting love. all the sex, and mystery and sex and whimsy and sex and sex. looking at it now it seems a rather odd way of going about trying to make such serious search and ultimate decision. but i am a los angeles native and it felt acceptable almost normal at the time. who was going to question it? i’m a very interesting person and i’ll do what i want. (someone is laughing if he’s reading this) i’m lucky, i found that one true love not once or twice but three times. can i hear a forth? Nope not a forth. while in my early 40′s and on the second love it was never a thought to become a dad. My partner and I never discussed it, i don’t think we did. I’ve blocked so much out. i was getting older, there was a sale at prada etc...point is that fatherhood was NEVER a consideration of mine. not that i doubted my ability. I never thought about it. And it just didn’t seem practical. i laugh now. enter what sorta seemed to be the true love of my life. The man who excites me and challenges me. The man I ultimately left yet oddly find it difficult detaching from. He is 12 years my junior, a thrill seeker. His idea was to have a kid with me nonetheless, WTF? What? are you kidding me? was my first reaction. i somewhat quickly reeled those reactions in and decided to listen to my husbands desire and want for a child or children. queerly enough once i wrapped my head around the idea, i was ok with it. rather excited of a new prospect that didn’t have a revolving credit line. as my current therapist observes in amazement, when i accept an idea or consequence that’s it. the plan is put in motion sans regret. we all know where this one is headed. boy meets boy, falls deep and hard in love. adopts a baby, buys a home and has a destination wedding. a nightime soap right? unfortunately not my story. instead we mis-communicate, argue, take everything personal, experience no less then 5 marriage counselors, argue then separate from each other. enter coparenting! not for the weak at heart. it’s hard! i’m not going to sugarcoat it. the schedules, the communication still with a person you’re not talking to. the nanny(s) schedules, pick ups and drop offs. not to mention providing another safe and fabulous home for you and your part time son. the rest of this is still being written. but somewhere at a point in my marriage and being a father my priorities shifted. from young and madly in love to loving your young, madly. this shift is as meaningful as love itself. i hope everyone can get to a place with this kind of love. i couldn’t imagine my life without TKVW in it. RTVW 2.6.16
By Ronald Todd Woodward5 years ago in Families
