grief
Losing a family member is one of the most traumatic life events; Families must support one another to endure the five stages of grief and get through it together.
Gramps the Owl
My Grandfather was an owl. How he became the owl, I don’t quite know. I would imagine it was because he studied late into the night. As a young girl, I knew him as Gramps and by the symbol of the owl. When my mother was born, the doctor proclaimed her the owlet. She arrived in the late hours of night and being the owl’s offspring, it was a natural name to give her.
By Taya Louisa4 years ago in Families
Survival
The world outside is treacherous and hostile. It’s been weeks since we’ve been stuck in this hideout. A measly hollowed log being the most dangerous of our camps the last couple weeks. Everywhere we’ve tried to make our home has been lost to the horrific creatures of this world. My six children and I have been trapped here with no food for days. My husband left to scout the area and gather food, but he hasn’t returned yet and I'm starting to worry he will never return.
By colton hughes4 years ago in Families
String of Hope
Everything happened in the blink of an eye. I gasped for air but gulped water instead. As the waves continued to crash, the salinity burned my eyes. My life jacket was the only thing keeping me afloat, but the waves were too intense. At this moment, my life flashed before my eyes.
By Jayda Morrell4 years ago in Families
The Last Winter
My eyes burst open. Hair, sweaty and tangled, sticks to the back of my neck. The small suburban guestroom is dark, but the streetlights lining the cul-de-sac cast a glow on the wall at the foot of my blow-up mattress. Fuzzy, thrift store paintings stare back at me. Squinting, I try to make sense of the lines and shapes, but I don’t have my glasses on. If I wasn’t so numb when I landed, I might have taken a moment to look around and absorb my surroundings. They changed the room around since the last time I was in town.
By Sara Gaines4 years ago in Families
Mom's promise
I sat at the kitchen table, my face drenched in my own tears. I have just received a phone call from my sister Meghan from Oregon. " Kyle, I tried to call earlier but no one answered." I could tell there was something wrong by the tone of her voice. "What happened?" I asked. "Dad came over this morning in tears. Mom has passed away." She cried. I dropped the receiver and fell to the floor. My stomach tightened to the point where I felt intense pain. My mother and I were very close. That night broke me more than anything.
By Danielle Mosley4 years ago in Families
Open Letter to my Hero
You were my role model, my hero, and my Grandmother. You were there for us when our parents had to work. You were there for every local United Kennel Club tournament I was competing in. You were there for every basketball game and chorus concert. Thank you. Even when I knew you shouldn't have shown up. You still came to my Jr. & Sr. prom pictures, my Sr. Homecoming, and by the Grace of God you were able to make it to my Graduation. Thank you.
By Jessica Harris4 years ago in Families
Closure
I often walk in my neighborhood late at night. I enjoy the solitude and it’s almost a guarantee I won’t run into some random person who disturbs it by simply appearing on the same street as me. We live just outside the city and, on a clear night it’s dark enough to see millions of stars sprayed across the inky sky.
By Kara Ann Hancuff4 years ago in Families
Owls in the Attic
“Do you see that?” Jules says over her shoulder. She is pointing to a spot on the shore line where an old, tattered Boston whaler is tied up to an equally weathered dock. I dip my paddle into the cloudy water; pulling the canoe another length forward. Jules had stopped paddling a few moments before to squint curiously at the array of houses, cottages, and shacks that were scattered along this particular stretch of coastline. I rest my paddle across my lap; taking a long swig of the tepid beer I had poured into my water bottle before we had set sail. With a sigh, I direct my attention to where Jules is looking. The glare on the water causes me to squint too.
By Amy Motson4 years ago in Families
Owlelluia
My Mom died 3 months ago. It was so unexpected. She went to bed one night and never woke up. It was a blow for all of us but mostly for my 8 year old daughter who was so close to her Momom. They would share great moments together. You could feel a real connection between those two. Ever since that dreary day, Alicia, my beautiful jovial daughter was not the same. She did not play anymore, nor did a smile painted her tiny face.
By Denise Lauzon4 years ago in Families
