grandparents
Becoming a grandparent makes getting older something to look forward to - all the fun of parenting, without the hassle.
Cherries
It feels like the cheap brittle white plastic chair I’m sitting on might break at any given second, but right now I’m sitting on the front porch of my grandma’s chipped yellow house. The chairs had gone through a tremendous winter. I’m surprised they lasted this long, she’s had them since we moved here five years ago. The cherry blossom tree in my grandma’s yard is in full bloom as well as the lilac bush. Sweetness filled the air as the cherry blossom flowers danced their way off the trees swirling and twirling in the air. Bees are excitingly buzzing, the birds are chirping, and the gentle warm breeze gives me chills of joy, it just makes my heart swell. I feel like a kid again.
By Claudia Valella5 years ago in Families
Beaty
"Along the wall, behind the park, but never attempt after dark", Thea smiled, reciting a poem her quirky Grandma Beaty had helped her memorise as a child. Unlike the last bazillion times she had made the journey to her Grandma's house, today Thea was in no hurry to get there. She was well aware that today would be the last.
By Anna Carla Searing5 years ago in Families
Keeper of Secrets
I grew up in the city. Life was past paced and hectic, so full of noise and people. Everything I needed was close at hand. Just a short walk to pick up a few groceries or even eat out, and getting things delivered was just a phone call away. Every day was filled with, bright billboards and honking horns, even at night, everything was lit up, so it seemed like day.
By T. C. Murphy5 years ago in Families
Lácteos del Che
My grandmother was always my foundation, my abutment.....my Alcántara Bridge, as it may. Growing up in Buenos Aires, I never had a sense of who I was or who I could ever be? I never knew of my father and my mother died giving birth to me. So, my ontic composed of just two entities....grandmother and myself.
By Tyronn Rahda Monroe5 years ago in Families
Mystery Man In A Suit
After sitting at my computer for hours on zoom calls, my body's bones started to get stiff like cement. I slowly got up from the table to move around, but every step became harder. At that moment, I promised myself to take more breaks and stand up every twenty minutes. My name is Frida Kahlo Davis, named after the famous painter Frida Kahlo. I'm a contributor to the lifestyle blog "Finding Your Light," my schedule can get hectic during the holidays. Companies tend to reach out to me for listicle articles such as "The top 5 Affordable Gifts This Year" or "Eight Ways to Deal with Your In-Laws During The Holiday Season." With the pandemic in full force, companies that I once worked with decided to cut their staff, including my freelance writer position. Over the past several months, I've had to make some sacrifices; I've found myself using candles as my primary source of light, eating noodles, and reading more books after getting rid of cable and streaming services. My stress levels have been too high, and I'm losing lots of sleep.
By teisha leshea5 years ago in Families
Get up, adjust your crown, and keep going
Drug abuse, drinking, and stealing were only a small fraction of problems I had in my teenage years. Don’t get me wrong; I grew up in the most loving and caring family I could ever ask for; but my parents only adopted me when I was ten years old. Prior to that, my home was an orphanage and a few families who temporarily took me in. Nothing traumatising happened to me. However, the feeling of not being loved, wanted, or needed was deeply engraved into my soul.
By D E Dohmen5 years ago in Families
A hunt for love
Salt stings my eyes reminding me of the heat as I wipe the sweat from my brow. “She never did like air-conditioning.” I chuckle sadly, sitting in my grandmothers’ house unfolding box after box preparing to pack all the things she gathered throughout her life. Nothing of great value, just old knick-knacks from a time forgotten, books towering upon books of all the fictional stories she loved to read to me, fuelling my imagination. No this is simply a house of memories.
By Emma Cooper5 years ago in Families
A hunt of love
Salt stings my eyes reminding me of the heat as I wipe the sweat from my brow. “She never did like air-conditioning.” I chuckle sadly, sitting in my grandmothers’ house unfolding box after box preparing to pack all the things she gathered throughout her life. Nothing of great value, just old knick-knacks from a time forgotten, books towering upon books of all the fictional stories she loved to read to me, fuelling my imagination. No this is simply a house of memories.
By Emma Cooper5 years ago in Families
secrets of a moonlight angel
It was only after my grandmother’s passing that her artwork began to attract attention. She had sold a single piece while she was alive; the very first piece she’d ever completed, in fact. After that sale she decided she didn’t care for the attention and kept the rest of her work private as long as she was alive.
By auraborrows5 years ago in Families
