grandparents
Becoming a grandparent makes getting older something to look forward to - all the fun of parenting, without the hassle.
My Sekuru
"My Dearest Tafara, I am so sorry, I have been unable to respond to your letters because I have not been able to physically, morally, spiritually. There are so many things that are pressing me. Do you know I have been unable to pay for my shipping? I was let down by the American family. I was confident that I was going to get an award of a million dollars and I never got it. If I had gotten the award, you and Tendai were to get cars each.
By Natalya Ellis4 years ago in Families
Ouroborous
I helped my Grandma get ready for bed last night, and it reminded me of Time. How her sweater, once warm, goes cold from absence, even though it's fleece, and even though she is here, it ebbs away. I hang the sweater, along with the idea of bereavement leave, on the hanger she has noted for me, before helping her with the socks created to grip the ground.
By Kate M. Sine 4 years ago in Families
Coming Home Again
Dustin Henry had finally come home. He had not come home to settle down and help his Grandfather run the farm, as he had once expected. He had come home to bury his Grandfather. Had he seen it coming, Dustin would have put his continuing education on hold, taken a sabbatical, and joined Grandpa Wilbur in his final months and days.
By Linda Rivenbark4 years ago in Families
The Fog Gathers
There is something strange about this house. It bends and warps with echoes of memory. The windows flicker like a movie reel, sunlight bouncing between the last few panicked leaves on the Autumn dressed oak in the backyard. I trace their shadows on the wall, pale jade, but it doesn't feel correct. A rooster crows, the sound of children's feet run past me. I turn to Mother. "I don't like this color,"
By Lauren McGraw4 years ago in Families
Coming Home Again
There was something about a rainy day in the little mountain town that Dustin Henry called home. It was raining the day he left the farm. It seemed only fitting that it would be raining when he returned; a gentle, cleansing rain that gave the air that awesome scent he loved…the smell of the earth right after the rain.
By Linda Rivenbark4 years ago in Families
My Winter With Grandma
My grandma retired long ago in Ocean Shores, Washington, where she lived in a cedar shake beach house by the sea. Her house had stunning views of the grass dunes and sunsets, and different seabirds were always seen flying by. Her home was filled with treasures that she had found over the years while beachcombing. She had glass floats of different colors and sizes, jars filled with agates, and windows lined with Japanese sake bottles. She kept the original vintage light fixtures and tiles in the home from the 1970s, and her incredible art collection hung on the original wood paneled walls. Her house was a beautiful gem, and I was always happy to be there as it was the most comfortable place in the world!
By Lisa Hayes4 years ago in Families
Ceppo, that is Christmas in my days
I am thinking about what Christmas was like in the sixties. Not everyone’s, mine. I lived in a nuclear family: father, mother, me. My brother hadn’t been planned yet. A provincial town in Tuscany, an apartment in a popular neighborhood, furnished in a functional and modern way, because we were a family in step with the times. My mother worked, drove the Bianchina and did the shopping at Smec, the first supermarket to set foot in the center. We lived the economic boom with hope, proud of the progress that would only bring civilization, proud of the refrigerator, the toaster, the blender, the carbonated water with the potholders of the Idrolitina, the bottled wine on the table.
By Patrizia Poli4 years ago in Families
The Sitio
This is a story about the place I grew up. The Sitio as we call it in Portuguese. I guess you could say it is a ranch. There are lakes, a barn with a grill and a pizza oven and a large table in the middle. There are trees with fruits. You can pick fresh mangoes to last you at least two lifetimes. Where I received countless bug bites, scratched knees, But most of all, this is a story about my family. The ones who came before me and us now.
By Beca Damico4 years ago in Families
Understanding Human Nature and the Human Condition
Our quest in life is that of continual progress in mind, body, emotion and spirit. As we traverse this mortal plain of existence, we will at times face challenges that test our resilience. Having no playbook or secrets to prevail over our mortal frailties, we could soon find ourselves thrown off of our progressive path. It is in these moments that we must take an inward look at ourselves to discern not only our shortcomings, but also those areas where we need to make changes that will in turn help us evolve to a higher level of awareness. The lessons learned will not only teach us more about ourselves, but also provide us a better understanding of human nature and the human condition.
By Jay Baker Stories4 years ago in Families
