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.
Until she Didn't
When I was 24 years old, I met a guy. His name is Tom. Straightforward, smart, nice, reserved, and handsome. He is beautiful. He is kind. He was the love of my life. He is the love of my life. We began dating, and on our one year anniversary he took me to the restaurant we met. It was a group blind date, and my friend insisted that we would hit it off. She was right. If I had met him earlier I may have reconsidered things. If I had met him later I may have also reconsidered things.
By Alisa Stanley5 years ago in Families
Sketches
Annie searched the lists for several days until she found the entry. When she had begun, she certainly hadn’t expected a reward. Still, she had wondered to find something so precious in a thrift store, and she had decided that someone might want it. So, Annie Jacobson skimmed through website classifieds, convinced she would find a desperate soul searching for the book.
By Carmi Cason5 years ago in Families
Four pandemic postcards
I. Dear Helen, I learned, as your daughter, that the sorrow that shadowed your beauty and light came in part from being born three months after your father, Antoni, died at age 40 of the Spanish flu, official cause of death pneumonia, in February 1920, at the tail end of the pandemic. It was said that Antoni may have built his own coffin; he was employed at a casket factory. At the time of your birth, your newly widowed mother, Josephine, had two other daughters under three, spoke no English, worked as a maid.
By Marjory Zaik5 years ago in Families
Some Kids
Jimmy was a child with some anger issues and other behavioural problems. In the first grade, I remember him being the only kid in class that threw tantrums and beat on his desk with his fists. The teachers pretended not to notice. If he ever caught us snickering at his fits, he’d laugh and beat on the desk harder, reveling in the attention.
By Grant Whitehurst5 years ago in Families
Blanket
I was seven the first time I learned about death. The cold finality of it all surrounded me like a blanket, keeping me company the remaining days of my life. I remember the coffin, light blue with brass handles. The flowers—lilies, evocative of death—covered every possible surface filling the church with their strong, honey-laced aroma. I watched as the adults stood in hushed groupings going over the details of her demise.
By That Writer Chick5 years ago in Families
A Priceless Inheritance
Knock. Knock. Knock. “Stella? You up?” I heard the muffled words and pulled the blanket over my head. I heard the door open and the sound of footsteps across the floor. The metal raking against metal was like nails on a chalkboard as a stream of light illuminated the floral pattern on my blanket.
By Milica McMillen5 years ago in Families







