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.
In the Moment
It took her less than two seconds to recognize what was in her hands. Looking up from her lap she looked around the room; everyone was grieving for Uncle Robert. He had been a wonderful light in her life after the death of her husband. She’d been lost, unsure of her future or where she’d go. Uncle Robert put her to work in his Foundation. At first she dreaded getting up in the mornings but she made a promise to him that for one month she would come to work everyday no matter what and at the end of that one month if she did not like what she was doing, he would release her from the promise; free to go about doing whatever she wanted and he would financially support her for an entire year.
By Kristi Zeman5 years ago in Families
The Music Room
He was my superman and the first man that I ever loved. He showed me how to be loved and what love was. He was kind yet stern. He was the calm after the storms of life. He was always there and available to listen and counsel. The man of many talents with great intelligence that he not only shared with me but with countless others. He was wise yet grounded. He was love, light and a life well lived. He was special in his approach to people which made him a great professor. He had a way with his words that made you think things through. He was patient but would be sure to let it be known when he was at his limit. He was my daddy and I miss him.
By Randa Sheree5 years ago in Families
French Polynesia
Day 42...I keep counting the days over in my head every morning I wake up. 42 days since I lost my mom...my best friend. 42 days since my life ended. The days seem to run into each other and I’m not even sure which month it is...but of course I know that’s a lie I’ve tricked myself into believing. How could I forget 42 days ago on a Wednesday my once so full life deflated into a pool of nothingness. We were planning our annual fantasy trip to French Polynesia. We knew we would never have enough money to really go but we were perfectly happy pretending. I can’t bring myself to take down all the pictures we tapped all over the livingroom. Some days those photos are the only thing keeping me going. I keep playing the call over and over in my mind. “Hello may I speak with Mya Harris? Yes, this is Mya. I’m sorry to tell you there’s been an accident at the plant where you and your mother Jesse Mae Harris work...we tried everything in our power to save her but we just didn’t get to her in time.” It should’ve been me...you were covering my shift because I wanted to surprise you with our stupid fantasy vacation!! *tears stream down Myas face* *Mya rolls for her in bed and stares at the plastic flower headdresses she had made for her and her mother on the tiny nightstand* We couldn’t afford the headdresses last year and I could tell it made you sad but you just laughed and said “We’ll get to see real ones one day don’t you worry chica!” Then you wrapped me in your arms and covered me with kisses. That’s the type of person you were...sadness never lingered in your world. I wish I had that type of strength..especially now. I can barely force myself to get out of this bed. *a cat meows from the corner* You’re the only thing keeping me going Coco. *a brown cat hops on the bed where Mya is lying* Lets get you something to eat buddy. *Mya groans as she gets up..it had been a day since she got out of bed* As Mya exits the bedroom she surveys her tiny surroundings. The house was covered with flowers, pictures, and cards. Some of the pictures were from previous “vacations” with her mom...she couldn’t bring herself to take them down. The others were pictures her coworkers sent in of her mother...she touched so many people. The livingroom had become a shrine to her mother. There was something in the corner she hadn’t notice before...a small box. Weird..she had walked through that livingroom a million times a never noticed it. It looked like a present. As she got closer she noticed her name...it was a present...from her mother. *Myas whole body began to shake* How could she have not seen this before? Their apartment was tiny. Mya sat and prepared herself to open the final gift she would ever receive from her mother. *She gasps for air as she opens the present* It’s a small black book with her and her mother’s name engraved on it “Mya and Jesse Mae’s Fantasy Vacation” Mya couldn’t help but laugh. Mom was always so extra she thought to herself. As she flips through the pages she notices lists of things to do.
By brittany crenshaw5 years ago in Families
Red Velvet Cake
Red Velvet Cake I had not given it much thought when Aunt Marie asked me to help her clean out her things to prepare for the move she dreaded. It was time and she knew it. Preparing to leave the home she loved was going to be the most difficult move of her ninety-five years, but her daily physical pain was no longer tolerable. She would no longer be the self-sufficient and extremely independent woman that she felt brought her the respect and admiration of her family. Asking me for help must have been hard but she chose her words carefully as she explained exactly what she needed from me and how I was to plan to come on a certain day and time in order to accomplish it all within a week.
By Nelda Allman Powell5 years ago in Families
Losing Him
Jade do this. Jade do that. Jade, did you remember to? It just goes on and on, person after person. I feel the need to escape from this place I used to call home. It has only been three days, and I barely can stand it. Perhaps I am just used to being in my own apartment, where there is a lot less people and noise. I used to dream of having a big family, but I think a husband and a cute dog will do. Now I do understand that I may just be on edge because all of the changes that happening right now. I am used to things going a certain way and being a certain way. Why does so much have to change so fast? Just last week I was living my best life. I mean I was on my own, employed full time, enjoying the warm Florida climate, enjoying my cozy apartment where I live alone, working out daily, and indulging in food and wine with my friends on the weekend. Now I am surrounded in cold Michigan with all of my closest family members in a home that is too small to fit us all comfortably. Now I love my family, every last one of them. But we each have our own lives going on and our own personalities, that we sometimes crash when we have too much of each other. Day one of this trip was not bad at all. I think I was just so happy to hug my loved ones, that nothing else mattered. I just needed to know they were alright. We had not been around each other long enough to be bothered by anyone. Day two was when reality set in: we are all together to mourn the death of my grandfather. Everyone just seemed sad on day two. We talked to one another, but not in any great length. It was just a day that kind of dragged, but everyone was respectful to one another. Now it’s day three and no one is biting their tongue. People are fighting for bathroom time, debating over what to cook, not cleaning up after one’s self, and just talking over one another. We are all still sad, but I think rather angry too. Although my grandpa lived a long life, it still doesn’t seem fair that he is not here anymore. I looked forward to our weekly hour discussions on the phone. I could talk to Grandpa just about anything. It did not matter if I wanted to talk about my life or the moon, he always listened. He had a way of making anyone feel comfortable. He was kind, wise, and had the best sense of humor. Him and I were so close. I feel like he belonged to me more than anyone else. That is rather selfish of me, because I know him and my grandmother was really close. I really haven’t even really checked on her. She is here with everyone else, but I feel like I am purposely avoiding her. Maybe I do not want to see her sadness. Maybe I do not want to think about how devastating this must be to her. They have been married over fifty years! How do you just say bye to someone who you’ve grown to love so much? Poor grandma. I’m thinking poor me, but really Grandma probably is in worse shape. I know my mother is in bad shape: that is mostly why she keeps calling for me. She needs my help with mostly everything. My two older brothers James and Jayden have not been called at all. I wonder if my mother remembers that they are here too. James even has his wife and children with him: they could be a help to my mother. But no, she doesn’t request anyone but me. I should have had a sister so she could help me. I don’t think my mother expects as much from her sons. They are spoiled rotten. I’m the baby: that was supposed to me. Instead, I was the one my mom was much harder on. She takes the role of being a woman to another level. My mother has taught me to be very independent, as well as very virtuous. She wants me to be do well professionally but just as well when it comes to one’s household and taking care of others. I cannot lie: my mother is a modern-day Martha Stewart mixed with Kamala Harris. I’m like mom, can I just be 23? She cracks me up sometimes with her ambition, kindness, and drive to see me succeed.
By JENNIFER MADDOX5 years ago in Families
The Little Book of Gratitude
Leandre was having a tough year. It had been less than nine months since her husband passed from complications of lymphoma, which they had caught too late. It had already metastasized to other organs, making the treatment purely palliative, and his time short.
By Garett Garrido5 years ago in Families
Dear Momma
Savannah, 2020
By Adora Pino5 years ago in Families
