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.
Keeper of Faces
The pudgy cheeks were the most unnatural red during her first moments of life. I imagine she wailed at the tops of her lungs in her mother’s arms, and those dimples appeared. When her first steps would have become a confident run, her round cheeks nearly split her face in two--even as the little girl's features became more refined by the day. They flushed red when flying down her favorite playground slide just as they did when a teacher read the note she passed to a cute boy in her class.
By Megan Cessna5 years ago in Families
Crazy Little Thing Called Love
Crazy Little Thing Called Love “Who died?” After years of believing myself the last of my family line, these unexpected words of consolation didn’t compute. Brian and I squinted across the Starbucks table at the woman. Had my dead-end life just received a transfusion?
By Paula J Peckham5 years ago in Families
No Fairytale
Nanna’s voice echoed in her head, “It’s going to be alright baby, God will get us through, somehow.” Cassie can't help but feel everything is far from being alright. How could Nanna of all people, even believe what she was saying. They were officially on their own and for the first time in 7 years she was feeling like she had when she lost her parents in the accident. This feeling took her back to remembering her parents in the front seats of the car. They were there singing their hearts out as the light turned green not knowing this would be their last. They pressed forward, then what felt like milliseconds later were t-boned by a truck, causing them to spin into a light pole which instantly took the front passengers. Cassie, herself was knocked unconscious by the blow but reclaimed consciousness unlike her parents.
By Sharice Wells5 years ago in Families
My Father's House. Top Story - March 2021.
I am standing in the house my father built. The rooms are cold, as they always were. The myth of California is that it’s always warm. Instead, the damp gets inside of you until your skin crawls. The heat was never turned on in my father’s house.
By Louis Chalif5 years ago in Families
We Are Not Our Scars
Wiping the tears from my face I place the razor back into the bathroom drawer next to my sister’s loose hair clips, the half-used roll of tums, and a broken pair of glasses that I think belonged to my grandfather. So many random things. I find myself feeling random at time, like maybe I had a purpose but know I’m just a forgotten nothing in a drawer that no one looks in.
By [email protected]5 years ago in Families
What Belongs to Caesar
Shona custom was clear on inheritance issues: sons of the deceased inherited first, daughters next and any grandchildren would then get any minor sums that were remained. And it was with this general understanding that the meeting began. A short, plump lawyer waddled to the podium in the front of the room, opened a sealed box and commenced reading its contents in a voice so monotonous and sluggish that under any other circumstances it would’ve put half the listeners to sleep. The inheritances were read out by name, starting with the eldest son and then gradually moving to the grandchildren. On the whole, sekuru (grandfather), had been generous with his grandchildren, leaving them a few thousand dollars each and it, therefore, came as a surprise to Kudzai, that when his name was read out, no cash amount was announced. Instead, he was called forward to receive what appeared to be a little black notebook. He accepted it with a somewhat bewildered and confused expression on his face and despite his every effort, failed to hide the disappointment that was etched on his face as he returned to his seat at the back, walking down the aisle of chairs that split the room in two, filled with all his relatives.
By Stephen Bhasera5 years ago in Families
Freedom's Flight
Freedom’s Flight “Just keep moving," she thought as she shifted the grocery bag from the cart to the trunk of her sedan. "One more meeting, and I can call it a day and have a quick meal." She had eaten nothing and knew that she needed nourishment despite feeling little desire for food. After returning the cart and settling into the driver's seat, she finally succumbed, rested her head on the steering wheel, and sobbed. The memory of her mother’s early morning words washed over her in waves; the tears that she had held all day finally fell unchecked down her cheeks.
By Tamra Walker5 years ago in Families
