extended family

All about how to stay connected, strengthen ties and talk politics with your big, happy extended family.

Play Money
PLAY MONEY by Douglas P. Marx "That's your great grandfather, Charlie. Charles Alexander Frankel," Uncle Marty said. "It's who you're named after. He built this house, died just before the Great Depression." Charlie gazed at the portrait of the old man in the dark suit and tie. The man looked scary with the bristly beard and thin white hair up top. His eyes looked kind, though. He held a small black book in one hand and a fountain pen in the other. Charlie would have liked him, he bet.
By Douglas P. Marx5 years ago in Families
Ava Rose's Little Black Book
Ava Rose Norwood grew up in Charlotte, North Carolina. Ava Rose was a vibrant 18 year old seeking to find her way in the world. Ava Rose has a love for family, antiques, and history. She grew up poor, but seeking a new life and college was on the horizon. She yearned for it, but couldn’t fathom how she would pay for it.
By Ballantyne5 years ago in Families
The Next Chapter
Tanya waited in the bookshop, her elbow leaning on the cashier’s dusty glass countertop while her other arm clutched several books.
By Nicole Crescenzi5 years ago in Families
A Death And A Secret
Sometimes being the responsible one sucks. At least when it comes to times like this. Aunt Mildred died so suddenly. No one in the family even knows why. Hopefully the autopsy can give us some answers.
By Nitisha Chapman5 years ago in Families
Following Shannon
When one thinks about what they would do if they came to gain a fortune, it dives deep into the fantasy of untold riches, private islands and jets, and an amount of money so large it felt unlimited. If it wasn’t by the lottery or a sudden new position of power, it was by inheritance or a will.
By Kirsy Massiel5 years ago in Families
OUT OF THE BLUE
The sound of John Lennon softly intoning “Out The Blue” echoed through the tiny apartment. She hummed along, occasionally singing.
By Karen Ellis5 years ago in Families
A Lifelong Bond
I never met my grandfather, John Smyth. He died in the mid-1930s, a few years after my mother was born. I learned from mom that my grandfather had a previous life and wife before he married my grandmother. Grandpa John traveled to the Philippines at the turn of the previous century to work as a teacher. As I read in his little black book, his travelogue, I learned that he married a Filipino woman named Thelma. Most of the book was a daily log of how his new wife was faring. Thelma had fallen ill during childbirth. Not long after, he cryptically wrote that his wife had perished, as did the baby. His entries stopped for a while. A heartbroken young man, my grandfather returned to the United States. Grandpa kept his memories of the Philippines in a small wooden chest, which included his little black book.
By Timothy Reagan5 years ago in Families
Nana's Wish
Ginny anxiously stood at the door, waiting for someone to answer. She took in a deep breath and silently counted to 10 while alternating her glance between the small black notebook in her hand and the door. Softly she said to herself, "I'll knock one more time, and if no one answers, I'll leave. Maybe this was a mistake." Ginny repeated the pattern of knocking, counting, and nervously shuffling her feet three times. Just as she turned and started to walk away, Ginny heard the door open and a quizzical "hello."
By Natasha Carter5 years ago in Families
Black Sisters
Speaking to no one in particular, Marge sighed, “I can’t believe that she is really gone. That woman was so mean, I thought that she was too rough even for death to invite her over”. Marge’s comments sounded cruel. It had only been three days since their grandma sucked her last agonizing breath into her smoke filled lungs. Still, all three sisters busted out into uncontrollable laughter. “And, after going through all of this stuff, we still haven’t found any insurance policy”.
By Diane Watkins5 years ago in Families
The Black Book Gift
An infrared heating lamp with no on or off switch and certainly no filter; that’s what the sun already felt like on this early August morning. It made not sweating impossible. My skin felt more like a sieve than it did skin; as soon as I would drink water it literally would pour out with me.
By Chuck Behrens5 years ago in Families
A Thoughtful Trip
Cynthia Bloom a Meditation and Art History teacher was taking her daily commute on the city train. She was preparing to spend the summer in Northern, France near Giverny. Her beloved Aunt Fleur had invited her in hopes to persuade her to move to France and open a meditation studio. Fleur always thought of Cynthia as a daughter ever since the tragic death of her mother Adrianne so many years ago. The two had become remarkably close, kindred spirits. As Cynthia let the train carry her along the clackity journey to her classroom she daydreamed of beautiful French gardens with wisteria climbing the garden arbors, the Louvre with its awe-inspiring collection, pastries so decant from the flaky to the melt in your mouth macaroons, and the hot delicious sip of a café au lait. It made Cynthia weak at the knees. The people of France really knew how to let loose and enjoy life. The slow pace woke her up to mindfulness and thus she began her journey towards mediation and art history. She connected art and meditation into an effective teaching method.
By Stacy Parks5 years ago in Families
A Book of Ages
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to publish this book at first, but after a lot of thinking, I decided that it can help people. It can make a difference. On top of that, it can fill a hole that has been missing in my life for ten years. Let me explain.
By FP5 years ago in Families