Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
An Open Letter to My So-Called ‘Parents’
Dear So-Called “Parents”: It’s been almost 10 years since I’ve last seen the both of you. I don’t call you “mom” and “dad” anymore, because when I was younger and reached adulthood, you hardly had anything positive to say about me and use my siblings to turn against me whenever I did something wrong. I think that’s one of the most despicable things you could ever do towards your own child. On top of that, you tell your friends and others lies about me that weren’t true. You would constantly berate and talk down to me. Not only that, but completely lowered my self-confidence. My self-confidence is still low today, because if you had treated me with love and respect more, I wouldn’t be feeling like this right now. To me, y’all were bullying me. The both of you forced me out of my hometown and Texas in general: the place where I grew up for most of my life and y’all call yourselves parents? You took my friends away from me and I’ll never forgive you. I’ve had great friends and teachers who liked me.
By Mark Wesley Pritchard 6 years ago in Families
We laughed at Death
My family currently consists of 14 people and counting. My grandparents had four children and from there each child had at least one to two children who then had a couple kids of their own. In a family this big, you know that losing someone is inevitable. But you don't really think of it. Each holiday and birthday we gathered in my grandmother's tiny house until it seemed it would burst at the seams. We lifted our dinner plates to dodge young ones as they rushed by in play. We yelled over to each other for conversation because crossing the sea of people and furniture seemed more ridiculous somehow. Even more exacerbating was the time we'd spend debating over celebrities, politics, movies, and more. With such a kaleidoscope of personalities, it wasn't hard to find a differing opinion. Yet when our kind and soft-spoken grandfather said "It's time to pray." the room fell silent immediately. We argued and we fought and we made sure to always get the last word but our love for grandpa trumped all of that. No argument was so important it couldn't be put away if he asked us to. No one's voice was more important than his. He listened to all of us in our time of need and thus every person whether in through blood or marriage owed this man a life debt of love and respect. We knew this pillar of our family structure would one day leave us. But when he did the shock and pain still felt fresh and sudden. My grandfather died, in his house, peacefully. He simply fell asleep and moved on. I will always be grateful for that. After he passed the family set to figure out what we would do for our sweet and devoted grandmother. She was a widow now with no source of income. We decided to put together a gofundme. We raised over $14,000 for her to completely wipe some of her debts. There had never been a more proud family with bigger smiles. We sat her down that dinning room table like it was Christmas. Asking her to check a link in her email. As she virtually unwrapped her present to see the love her community, family, and friends had shown; my aunt decided to tell a simple joke. My aunt said, "We decided to help you raise some money so we decided to sell your firstborn son." My grandmother without missing a beat and having not heard her but seen the amount of money now in her bank account looked up and said "Thank you". Her eyes watered with genuine gratitude at what we perceived was the selling of her child. My uncle's face of betrayal was hilarious. We laughed and turned it into the joke of the week. We buried my grandfather and had a visitation. All extremely hard days for the family but we had a safe harbor to go to. A joke and moment of unexpected joy that found its way to us even in this dark time. We were grieving and death had taken someone very important to us. But we are a family that learned to enjoy life from a man who never missed an opportunity to tell a joke. We met death and we laughed.
By Dylan Ritch6 years ago in Families
A crowded mind
“How can things go back to the way they were when so much bad had happened?” It’s a saying from Samwise Gamgee that I think about a lot. Especially with how true it is. These past few months have been a true example of a mental and emotional torment. And a family torn apart cannot be mended so easily.
By Jessica Cortez6 years ago in Families
The Story of Zyon
On April 3rd, 2006 I received the call that the mother of my child was in labor and headed to the hospital. I was beyond excited and unlike most men from where I'm from, even at just 18 I was ready to be a great father to my son. I had been anticipating this moment for so long and been holding it in for even longer. I hadn't told anyone in my family because our relationships were not in great places. I wanted to surprise my mom on Mother’s Day with her grandchild, as crazy as it sounded, this was the way I thought I would mend the relationships and announce the new member of the Feagins family. I arrived at the hospital a little passed 7pm and as I walked into the room, I could feel an immense amount of pain in the air. She looked at me and just kept crying. As I held her, I listened to the doctor explain to me, what she had already explained to her and her family. I was in disbelieve and at the moment couldn't do anything but be strong for her. I held it in, I fought to hold it in so that I could hold her up and be her strength that she needed in this moment. She would have to deliver my sons' still born body, right now. She didn't want to hold him but something in me just thought, maybe just maybe there was life in him. Maybe, it's us. We are the family that gets to brag about the doctors producing a miracle. I held my sons' breathless body in my arms. I stared at him and in one moment pictured everything that I wanted to be able to do with him, to be able to just hear him say daddy, to go fishing, to start practicing for whatever sport he would like to do, to just sit on the couch and watch the NBA finals or the Superbowl. I would never get to have these moments. As I walked into the hallway, down to the bathroom I found my way to the stall and finally let out everything I'd held in for those 2 long hours. I held and screamed for the hurt, for the feeling of losing my child when I was there. I was there from the start and planned to be there forever. I was ready, I wasn't going to abandon my son. All of these fathers get to see their children born and never be a part of their lives, but I set here, and I planned to be the best father I could be and failed before I ever got the chance to start. It's been 14 years now since that day and It doesn’t seem to get any easier thinking about it. At some point I look at my sons and I see all the characteristics that Zyon would’ve had. I see his smile in them, I see is athletic ability in them, I see his sense of humor in them. Sometimes I find myself even with teenagers, standing in the doorway of their rooms and watching them sleep. Wondering what they are dreaming about, what fears they have and what they want to achieve in this World. Zyon took a breath I was told, so for 3 seconds, he was alive. Maybe that’s the miracle, the three seconds of life was enough for my three sons, Tyrese, Keyshawn and Deondre to have a part of him. But you never get over the loss of a child, you survive, you get up and life eventually continues with some sort of normal energy, but you're never okay. Never. Zyon your story lives and breathes within your brothers every day.
By DC Feagins6 years ago in Families
More Stories from the Old Country
Luigi and Maria Ancora emmigrate to Argentina In 1924, the Ancora family was finally ready to rejoin Belasario in America. But some bureaucratic corruption prevented Nonni's brother and sister from making the journey to America. A rich family bribed an official in the office, and Luigi and Maria's Visa papers were stolen. So the family was presented with their only option. Nonni and her Grandmother sailed to America, while Luigi and Maria embarked for Argentina.
By Rich Monetti6 years ago in Families
Self-Care for the Busy Mom (It’s Not a Joke!)
Too often, we believe that being a good mom means putting everyone ahead of ourselves. The fact is, if we don’t take care of ourselves, we get burnt out. We lose patience and emotional balance and often find ourselves doing things we don’t want to do, like yelling. Self-care for busy moms is neither a joke nor a frill. It’s a crucial part of your life, and you need to make time for it.
By Wendy Miller6 years ago in Families
