extended family
All about how to stay connected, strengthen ties and talk politics with your big, happy extended family.
Summer...
How does the warm and tantalizing feeling of summer taste? To me, I always imagine sweet and natural flavors. Things that leave a lasting freshness to the palate such as strawberries, cantaloupe, and other fruits have long been my favorite parts of summer.
By Sai Marie Johnson4 years ago in Families
Daddy
When I was married, my ex-husband said he hated people over five calling their parents 'mummy or daddy'. I was brought up by my stepfather, who I usually called by his first name or abbreviated name until that point because in private there was nothing he could do about it and I sometimes had my own small rebellions against my controlling husband, just to get me through the day.
By Rosemary D Hunter4 years ago in Families
Letting Go of My "Indian Princess" Ancestry Narrative
I'm an amateur genealogist, and I LOVE it. My family tree has over 10,000 people in it. I write about being a genealogist every month for our local newspaper. I help other people with their family trees. But as much as I love my hobby, I'm embarrassed about one of my reasons for getting into it. I wanted to confirm a family story that my grandpap was descended from a Native American woman. These "Indian Princess" narratives are common among white people in the USA, and we are susceptible to fetishizing our connection to the Native identity, without recognizing the role of our white ancestors in genocide and land theft. My journey into genealogy started out with a misplaced desire to distance myself from my white ancestors, but over time I learned to fully claim my European ancestry in all its complexity.
By Andrew Gaertner4 years ago in Families
When they're smoking they're cooking, when they're burnt they're done!
"When they're smoking they're cooking when they're burnt they're done!" Thats what my Great Uncle Ross would say when he cooked hot dogs on the grill. One of my fondest memories as a kid was visiting my Grandma's house for a cookout.
By Craig Maxwell4 years ago in Families
Andy
Does it matter that when he was nine years old he saw a vision of the Virgin Mary? He, a little Presbyterian boy, the son of a preacher, for whom the Virgin Mary was Catholic folly. Does it matter that she held a sign for him to read with the name of a city that he had never heard of in a country that was nothing but the land of myths and dreams? Does it matter that thirty years later he came to live in that very city? Does it matter that this is true?
By Emily Hanchett4 years ago in Families
Libby Hills
When I sit and think about it, I have known a lot of crazy people in my life. No surprise right? We all know someone who is crazy, but I never thought the craziest person I'd ever meet would end up not only being one of my closest friends, but also a family member. Her name is Elizabeth Handel aka Liz Handel.
By Joe Patterson4 years ago in Families
I’m so thankful
In life sometimes there are very few people who understand you . You might not be understood by your mom , or your dad . You might lose a grandma and grandpa you loved a lot . But there is a special tribe of people who always understand you . They call you friend . There are certain people who get you and understand you at your worst. They are always kind and always there and you know in your heart you can rely on them. You trust them more than people you’ve known your whole life.
By April Liao4 years ago in Families
Funny thing is my father is not my Daddy
My biological father pretty much disowned me before the ink was dry on the divorce papers filed by my mother. I was only thirteen at the time but was told because of my mother’s choice to leave him and my choice to live with her that I was pretty much on my own and in his words “don’t ask me for shit”.
By Majique MiMi4 years ago in Families
The women who wash the windows
To the mothers who raised me while they washed my windows: what I have not yet said to you is: THANK YOU In the mornings, the baths would be drawn and my sister and I would get in at the same time. In the mornings, the woman with brown and white and slightly yellowed hands would cut and then squeeze the oranges, pour it into the glass that was never big enough and was somehow her fault, and then her responsibility in the slightly later mornings, to fill it up again. From an empty cup. And out breath.
By Mingling with the Moon 4 years ago in Families
Mother Day confession.
You are my hero, my inspiration. You brought me into this world and put my needs first, even when times were tough. I've been looking for a role model my whole life, but I never imagined it would be you — it took me so long to discover that!
By Kamran Mehmood 4 years ago in Families
