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.
Im still here
Being a young mother is not an easy task, but when I look at him at his beautiful perfect little face I know I’d do anything for him. I trace his eyebrows with my fingers and gaze into his honey brown eyes, his lashes are long and full his dimples that he got from his grandmother his dark curly locks, even at just 18 years old I could never imagine leaving his side. Pregnant at 17 I was terrified and after a bout of postpartum depression and contemplating suicide, my connection to him my unconditional love for this perfect human ensures that I’ll remain on this earth for him as long as I’m allowed and today; I choose Life. After having this apifany I feel a weight lifted off my shoulders and I decide to do something special tonight. I want to surprise my mother with a great dinner and stay in and just enjoy our time together and fully embrace this new outlook on life. Mom agrees to watch the baby and so I set out. It’s no secret that Washington gets a ton of rain so I’m still comfortable in this sudden downpour to set out to the store because well at this point it’s completely rutine. I start my old 67 Dodge Dart GT and without hesitation I begin my fateful trip down marridian avenue, the very same street I’ve taken to the store regularly for the last four years. My windshield wipers were hardly helping at all the rain was so heavy I stare cautiously through the soaked windshield and see break lights close ahead. I slam my breaks and hear my tires screeching to a stop I’ve skidded off the road and am teetering on the edge of a large swamp. Scary but not much cause for concern I mean I’ve never been in the swamp but it appears quite shallow. Just as I get the door open I’m standing on the door frame something slams into me with so much force it forced the car with me still holding it further into the swamp.
By Kaenne depuente 5 years ago in Families
Everything is Salvageable
I had this dream that my father and I would one day sit in the back porch drinking a beer, and he’d finally feel comfortable enough to tell me the story of his life. There was this version of him that existed in Vietnam. What was it like to patch up planes and rearm them with bombs? Who found you when you crashed the motorbike? Why didn’t you write home after the war? They thought you were dead! You had a fiancé before Mom back in Vietnam? It’s not that I had an interest in the war, but I was dying to know the man he was before he was my father.
By David Tran5 years ago in Families
The healing process
“ You are stronger than you think , you’ll make it through this.” My mom says, While picking me up off the drive way. She was right I have to be strong, what other choice do I have at this point. He left me with no other choice. I must deal, I must be strong. I’m stuck here, stuck on this earth with out my best friend without my person. With this broken heart and 2 kids to take care of and remind every day that daddy loved them so very much.
By Ashley Renee5 years ago in Families
Sanctuary
The echo of the raindrops along the tin roof of the old family barn reverberated throughout the hay-filled, dimly lit interior. The sheer humidity was enough to drive me up the walls, but I rarely stayed inside the farmhouse anymore. The faint, yet not-so-distant rumbling in the clouds gave me some comfort, drawing my mind away from the reality of what my world had become. Most people found the sound of thunder to be disconcerting, but it washed over me like a tide of overwhelming peace. It had been years since the incident, but I could still feel the scars of those nights as though the memories seared into my mind occurred merely a moment before, the pain still raw. No matter how hard I tried to put it aside, the only way I could black out the memories and turn away from the scars was by closing my eyes and listening to the rumble of thunder in my world away from the world; my sanctuary.
By Mir Shajee5 years ago in Families
Run, Kevin, Run!!
As I sit trying to breathe quieter than the spider crawling across my dirty leg, I noticed a light shining through the cracks in the floorboards of the old barn I had called home over the past six months. I followed the beam up to get a glimpse of the full moon shining through the cracks of the partially rotted roof above. A billion-candle watt lantern could not cast a glow as hypnotizing as this September harvest moon. It seemed a million miles away, yet I found myself walking through its shadowed craters. I had to. I was strolling almost weightless through its silty recesses to distract myself from what was happening around me.
By Bob Calvin5 years ago in Families
Addictions
As I sit here and watch my baby sister kill herself I sit here and think "Who am I to judge, I have been there too Myself". Yet I want to tell her all the things she said to me, I only know this will backfire and send her drifting down a ravine. I try to tell her every day that if she wants I will help. But I also can't do anything until she wants me to is willing to help herself. I want so bad to be there, and be with her every day. She lives in another state, but if she asked me I would move today. I don't know how to take this pain, my sister is my best friend. I can't handle losing her, she is my only strength left until the end. She is my other half, depending on the day my good or bad side. Same goes with her, no matter how far apart our relationship will never die. I will never forget that phone call, when her boyfriend called me one night. He told me my sister had a heart attack, she was fighting for her life. Unable to go visit, because the world was in a pandemic, All I could do was call and call talking to doctors and nurses in a panic. Wanting to know every detail, wanting them to tell me she was ok. Instead they tell me she is on life support fighting for her life and dwindling away. She remained in ICU for another 3 1/2 weeks. She finally got to go home, called her the next day she was already having drinks. I was sick to my stomach, I couldn't understand. How she could be that close to death and go back to drinking like she never quit. Why doesn't she understand that its hurting everybody that loves her. I know she knows how it feels because I had an addiction when I was younger. She begged me all the time to just come home and that she loved me. I would make broken promises say I would come and she would never see me. Here's the difference between me and her, I was out running around but I wasn't in the ICU with my life slipping out beneath me. I don't know how to tell her this without her getting mad and disappearing, so instead I keep it to myself and keeps these feelings from appearing. I just tell her everyday that she always has somebody to confide, if she ever needs anything all she has to do is ask and she knows I will comply with anything that she needs or wants I want to do it for her. The only problem now is she not asking for it, I just continue to offer. I pray and pray every day As I sit here and watch my baby sister kill herself I sit here and think "Who am I to judge, I have been there too Myself". Yet I want to tell her all the things she said to me, I only know this will backfire and send her drifting down a ravine. I try to tell her every day that if she wants I will help. But I also can't do anything until she wants me to is willing to help herself. I want so bad to be there, and be with her every day. She lives in another state, but if she asked me I would move today. I don't know how to take this pain, my sister is my best friend. I can't handle losing her, she is my only strength left until the end. She is my other half, depending on the day my good or bad side. Same goes with her, no matter how far apart our relationship will never die. I will never forget that phone call, when her boyfriend called me one night. He told me my sister had a heart attack, she was fighting for her life. Unable to go visit, because the world was in a pandemic, All I could do was call and call talking to doctors and nurses in a panic. Wanting to know every detail, wanting them to tell me she was ok. I hated being so persistent but I also needed to know what was going on because they knew my sister was withdrawing from alcohol and also probably had drugs in her system, I know from personal experience how they treat people like that in the hospital. So with her not being able to have visitors they could pretty much let her die and not even lose sleep over it because they look at her like just some drug addict. So as I persistently call the hospital I try to explain to every nurse that she isn’t just some drug addict, she is my sister, she is a good person and just in a bad spot. She remained in ICU for another 3 1/2 weeks. She finally got to go home, called her the next day she was already having drinks. I was sick to my stomach, I couldn't understand. How she could be that close to death and go back to drinking like she never quit. Why doesn't she understand that its hurting everybody that loves her. I know she knows how it feels because I had an addiction when I was younger. She begged me all the time to just come home and that she loved me. I would make broken promises say I would come and she would never see me. Here's the difference between me and her, I was out running around but I wasn't in the ICU with my life slipping out beneath me. I don't know how to tell her this without her getting mad and disappearing, so instead I keep it to myself and keeps these feelings from appearing. I just tell her everyday that she always has somebody to confide, if she ever needs anything all she has to do is ask and she knows I will comply with anything that she needs or wants I want to do it for her. The only problem now is she not asking for it, I just continue to offer. I pray and pray every day that one day she will realize, that her life is so much more important than she makes it out to be and this life she is making is simply a disguise. I hope she knows I can not lose her, and I need her more than life. Maybe then she can finally see this addiction isn't worth the sacrifice. I love you always baby sister!
By Amanda Mosteller5 years ago in Families
Box of knowledge
It was a cold, wet, winters day when Sonja got the phone call about her mother’s passing. She had not been back to her home state of Florida for several years now but was now planning a trip she was not looking forward to making. ‘At least winter in Florida as cold as it is here in Ohio’ she thought to herself as she waited on hold with a funeral home. Her children, now ages 8 and 2, had never met their grandmother. Just another regret that Sonja would have to live with now. She and her mother had fallen out of touch over a decade ago, and now Sonja could hardly remember why. Something stupid most likely, they were so much alike, her mother and Sonja. Both so stubborn, pig-headed, not willing to give in and see things from the others point of view. She had not shed a tear since learning of her mother’s death but the regrets of not having had a relationship with her were starting to weight on Sonja.
By Clay Wilkinson5 years ago in Families
Chocolate Wars
It was hard growing up a military brat, we moved what seemed like a hundred times a year, but realistically it was more like once every two years. Bootcamp was hard for me and my dad. My mom wanted to be a United States Marine for as long as I could remember, her father was and she revered him. my mom was always pretty tough for a girl, and she was very competitive. My dad thought she was just being crazy, so they would get into fights about it all the time, I would listen to her try to convince him that she could do it and that it would be great for our financial future, but he always treated her like she was more fragile that she actually was and she hated being seen as weak. He also used me against her alot, giving the whole "How is Gavin going to grow up without a mother, only seeing you once a year"? speeches. Neither one of them were very good with expressing thier emotions to each other, so my father used me to tell her he would miss her without actually saying it. Her father raised her tough, so there was very little she couldn't do if she wanted to including fix anything with a motor, but that spilled over into not being able to really show her feelings. I knew my mother and father loved each other more than anyone could ever know, I didn't always see it between them, but once in a while they would get drunk and get all lovey dovey, which would cause me to make faces at them when they did. They would just laugh and walk to thier bedroom hand in hand, where they would remain for a few hours, and the noises that came from that room where unmentionable!
By C. M. Sears5 years ago in Families
Say his name
This is my first story outside of poets and is deeply personal to me. It was written recently in a response to the writing prompt 'anniversary'. It is about my beautiful son, James. He was with us for all too short a time but has left indelible marks not only on mine and his father's lives but many others as well. James is who made me a mother, even though I don't get to watch him grow up, and he is still a source of inspiration for me, in my art, my poetry, and my life. Whenever I see a butterfly, I know James is there, sending me love and watching over me.
By Emma Datson5 years ago in Families
