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.
My Brother Emmanuel
I grew up with my older brother Emmanuel, just three years apart. We were raised by our grandmother in a small household filled with chickens, a bably sibling, and a whole lot of love. Emmanuel was a foodie before we even knew that word meant. He had an appetite for everything- especially eggs straight from the chicken coop. I still laugh when I think about how he used to eat them raw, right there in the yard.
By MelCreates7 months ago in Families
"The Last Dance of My Cousin Angel"
Angel and I were more than just cousins- we were raised like sisters under loving care of our grandmother. We grew up sharing clothes, secrets, and Sunday morning chores. Even though we had very different personalities, our bond was unshakable.
By MelCreates7 months ago in Families
My Aunt, Sweet Like Honey Lamb Chops
Some people thought she was my mom. We were both light in complexion, thick girls, and always laughing when we were together. Bus she wasn't my mom- she was my mother's only sister, my aunt. And in many ways, she was like a second mother to me.
By MelCreates7 months ago in Families
The Housekeeper Silently Left After 5 Years
When the Wilson family hired Maria as their live-in housekeeper, they never imagined how deeply she would impact their lives. Quiet, hardworking, and private, she maintained their home with care and dedication. She never shared details of her past, nor did she speak much about herself. Over five years, she became a trusted and comforting presence — until one morning, she was simply gone.
By DigitalAddi7 months ago in Families
Invisible in Plain Sight: Living as the “Third Wheel” in Your Own Family
There’s a unique kind of loneliness that doesn’t come from being alone, but from being surrounded by people who are supposed to know you—and still feeling completely unseen. Many people talk about being the third wheel in friendships or relationships, but what’s hardly ever spoken about is what it feels like to be the third wheel in your own family. To be the one left out of conversations, overlooked at gatherings, and remembered only when someone else reminds them you exist.
By Sanelisiwe Adam7 months ago in Families
My Friend Ghosted Me After My Mother Died
A few years ago, I met someone at a writing retreat whom I thought would be in my life forever. This might sound a tad over-the-top, but when you have a connection with someone, you hope it never goes away. And for a period there, it didn’t.
By Carol Saint Martin7 months ago in Families
The Unseen Hero: My Father's Silent Struggles
My earliest memories of my father are quiet ones. Not loud laughs or booming lectures, but moments stitched together by silence, sweat, and soft gestures. He wasn’t the type to teach life lessons with words. He taught them with action—the kind of action that often went unnoticed by everyone except the people who needed it most.
By Fazal Hadi7 months ago in Families
The Man Who Taught Me Courage
I was eight the first time I saw my father cry. It was a quiet Sunday afternoon in late spring. The kind where the sun soaked the front porch in golden light, and all you could hear was the occasional bark of a dog or the hum of a neighbor's lawn mower. My dad sat on the wooden steps, shoulders slumped, hands clasped between his knees. I stood by the screen door, peeking out through the mesh.
By Fazal Hadi7 months ago in Families
IN THE ARM OF JESUS: FINDING COMFORT AND PEACE
“You’ll be okay, Mom. I promise.” Those were the last words Sarah’s son, Michael, said before stepping out of the house that stormy evening. It was just a few days after his 21st birthday. A quick errand. A short drive. Nothing unusual. But Sarah couldn’t shake the feeling in her chest—that sharp, anxious tug she now understood had been more than just a mother’s worry.
By From Dust to Stars7 months ago in Families
The Trip
Chapter 1 “Dad!” yelled Nathan excitedly as he clicked his seatbelt in place, “Let’s go!” Nathan was an average 10-year-old high-spirited little boy. His laughing brown eyes, which he inherited from his mother, were anxiously watching his dad stow away their camping gear in the rear of their beat-up old jeep. Nathan was warmly dressed in a red flannel shirt with a white t-shirt underneath and a fur lined all-weather coat to combat the snow and the cold that was forecasted for their weekend in the mountains. Today was the start of the annual camping trip with his dad and he couldn’t wait to get on the road. “Alright, alright, I’m coming,” George Lancaster said with a slight smile as he put the last bag into the jeep. Nathan was always so eager to get on the road. He and Nathan had been taking their annual father/son camping trip for the last five years, starting when Nathan was only five. George always looked forward to it, even more so now that Nathan was getting older. He knew that soon Nathan would be more interested in hanging out with his friends than spending time with him. “Ok, son are you ready?” George asked as he took one last look in the trunk to make sure everything was packed. He was also dressed warmly in a similar red flannel long sleeved shirt as Nathans. He had on jeans, long underwear and a heavy coat that should stand up to the snow, wind and cold. His longish black hair was covered up with a cap. “Yep, let’s go dad,” Nathan said as he looked over to see his dad coming around the car. He loved going camping with his dad every year. They would pitch their tents, gather firewood, and then go fishing. Nathan loved fishing. He and his dad had a standing bet that the one that caught the most fish would select the camping location for the next year, and he was determined to win this year. George opened the door to the family’s old Jeep Cherokee. It had seen better days and wasn’t in the best shape, but it was part of their camping tradition, and he loved it.
By Dandrea Walton7 months ago in Families
