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.
What is my name?
What is my name? By John. D. Kennedy The dark and numbing years from this pandemic, unraveled to a wheezing, imperceptible end. A strange sense of returned normality to a life that lived and died before COVID19, began to spin its unrelenting gears. Compressed and widespread glittering booms, of mask-less commuters in a broken chaos of words and honks, polluted the airline filled skies.
By John Kennedy5 years ago in Families
The Old Man's Shrine
It's a small nook between two houses on a backstreet, surrounded by mossy stone walls cracked with age. Inside an overgrown garden around a small ramshackle shrine, incense candles long burned out, the only offerings are from a seventy year old grandfather in the house on the left. Under the eves lies a small shabby and wild dog, fast asleep as the rainy day plays on, its music, the pattering against the tiles and pooling in old pots.
By Paul Karolczak5 years ago in Families
Fly Free
I tried one more time, but this time his phone went straight to message bank. Now this could mean that his battery was dead or he’s turned it off. I honestly don’t know why I care. Yes, he’s my son’s father, but he’s put us through hell, with the unemployment, drinking, drugs and threats that forced me to get an AVO. I was a little concerned, as he rang every night to talk to his son, not that I would let him if he sounded off his head, but it had been a couple of days and nothing.
By Janice Burns5 years ago in Families
The Beginning at the End
I laid on the bed, eyes closed, clutching my mother’s favorite scarf. I had sprayed it with her perfume and was daydreaming of laying beside her, chatting as we always had. The cream and blue floral curtains allowed a thin sunbeam to reach my face. I felt a brief moment of peace.
By Brandi Johnson5 years ago in Families
Book of Inspiration
Everything was dead around me. The tree branches loomed in the sky, bare, like skeleton fingers stretching out searching for something to grab hold of. My boots crunched in the snow as I climbed the ancient steps up the hill where my ancestors were buried. I had never met them, but their final resting place, a family plot dating back to the 1800’s, always seemed to bring me peace. I would come here when I was younger to get away from the world, but this place no longer held that same appeal. Now, this place where I once drew solace served as a bitter reminder of how cruel the world could be.
By Cari Scalise5 years ago in Families
Carrying The Torch
As I walk down the snow-covered streets, deep in thought, I kick the fluffy white powder out of my path. My head hangs low staring at the ground with each step. My piercing green eyes fill with tears as my new reality sets in. I got denied the extension I desperately needed; my payment is coming due and the bank wants to collect. My dream home, the home I built with my beloved late-husband will belong to them in just a few short weeks and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.
By Brianne Kathryn5 years ago in Families
A Julius Journey
This is a story about an old man named Julius August, a man that relished long hikes through the profound depths of the Amazon alone within its peace. Julius embraced the clashing sounds of waterfalls, and watching it cascading down the Amazonian’s marvelous height. He enjoyed the beauty of nature so much that he sold his house, and had a tiny home built away far from all things that he was used to; Julius only brought items that mattered most… items such as books, nature equipment and two very important boxes that he as not open since he was a young chap. He built his tiny oasis on the spot that his father and mother took him camping to every year, allowing Julius to experience natural serenity at a young age.
By Author The Poet B.GKL5 years ago in Families
12 Minutes
The parks of my childhood are gone. Most of the people that I grew up with are also gone. Houses that I used to run around in belonging to deceased family members are no longer, and even though I often dream of those houses, nothing will ever bring them back. Out of all of these losses that every adult must conquer, I think the loss of my childhood dog was the second most painful event to ever ensue. The death of my grandmother comes in first place on the adult misery totem poll. See, when you grow up an only child, your pet becomes your sibling and best friend, and when they disappear, a void fills up your once energetic house. I often dream of him, my dog, and in those fantasies we’re often walking around the neighborhood. To commemorate his memory, I often walk our once usual route, pretending that he’s with me, and I think he is.
By Jenuine Travel5 years ago in Families
