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.
The Third Child
I’m afraid to say yes to a third child as my other little ones reach the ages of 3 and 5 at alarming speed. With birthdays looming at the start of spring I stare hollowly at my ovulation calendar. Again and again red dates followed by purple circles stare up at me from a flat screen. No matter how fast I scroll I cant scroll away fast enough at the last black dot. The marker of what should have been the fourth child. Every month I scoff at the ovulation reminder and angrily log my period dates and symptoms while my significant other stares longingly at the dates with purple circles. I wish he could understand this pain inside my soul, and how it webs and flows similarly to the ocean and how it takes pieces of my sanity with every high tide. At low tide I can joke airily with my sister about her future nieces and nephews; I can laugh with my father as he jokes about another prodigy. At low tide I can piece together dream nurseries online and congratulate my friends and family as they post birth announcements on social media. At low tide I am okay enough to imagine life with another physical child. And all too soon the waves start to push ashore again; faster and faster. The crashing upon the shores of my heart cry out to my being of all my black dots could have been.
By Elizabeth Kerr5 years ago in Families
Cancerous Rage
When I was young, life was so simple. People remembered your name and walked around seamlessly, with no effort. We would laugh and cry over happy memories, jokes and current events. Our only worries were about the carnivals of tomorrow, the rainy day activities, and the “Did you see that?” talks on our family walks in the trees. Our family walks in the trees. When I was young, people around me didn’t drop like flies from this, this cancerous rage.
By Kendra J. Anthony5 years ago in Families
Lilies and Butterflies
Sometimes the ring feels heavier on its chain than others. My sister says that's when he's around. I tried to argue that I always seemed to be grieving when it feels the heaviest. She said that just proves her point. He's here because I'm suffering.
By Daciana McCromaig5 years ago in Families
Big G
Big G A short story written by:
By Denora M. Boone5 years ago in Families
I Miss You Dad...
February 11th, 1991 is a special day for me. Besides being my birthday I also share it with my father, a Jr., making me the Third. I've never met anyone who shares the same name and the same birthday as their father so I most definitely feel unique and downright special in that regard. See the thing is, usually with special things at least part of them are in fact bittersweet. Such is life right? I have no memories of my father, a larger than life man I only know through a handful of pictures and second-hand stories. A real superhero to me...a man who could do no wrong. Three months to the day I came into this world, he left it on May 11th, 1991. I recently learned that he was never supposed to make it past December of 1990 but he held on strong to meet his child...a child he had no idea of the gender at the time but loved all the same. I was a surprise, a son with his name, born on his birthday. I can only hope that something so unique and special as this dulled the pain he must have been in on his hospital bed, even just for a minute.
By Ragnar Josephson5 years ago in Families
The Fateful Morning
It seemed her life ended and began on that early morning. Living so far out of town, sometimes it was easier for Nells to sleep with the kids at her parents' house on work nights, it saved waking up at the crack of dawn, pack diaper bags and drive an extra two hours each day with grumpy babies. This day should have been like every other day, wake up, feed the kids, drive them to day care, go to work, but today was not like every other day.
By Jessica Marusyk5 years ago in Families
This One's For You
A letter to you, my mother. I’m sorry I could never be enough to make you smile again and I’m sorry that I never made you proud. I want the best for you in all that you do, I hope for your health and I pray for your happiness. You will never be alone in this life as long as you never forget me. I don’t have the world to give you, though I wish I could and I forgive you for the way you saw yourself in me. I don’t resent you for the hurt you rained down on me whilst you were trying to hurt yourself. I miss you, I miss the mother you were once capable of being for me and I know it’s coming back but I miss being a child and being something better to you than a broken fragment of being. My heart breaks for you in all that you’ve lost, your spark, your light, your life. It must be hard having a mind that your body can’t keep up with and I know how you’re feeling, the hopelessness in your soul knowing that no matter what you do, nothing will bring back the life you used to own. I wish I could give it all back to you, I wish that I could heal you and make you whole again and I wish life wasn’t so damn hard that you’re wondering how to make it from one day to another. I can’t give you much but I can give you my hope; it's all I have left.
By Chrisie Hopps5 years ago in Families
Nina's Goodbye. Top Story - January 2021.
“Mommy!” The scream wakes me with a start. The room pitch black, silent. For a moment I think the scream was just my own bad dream, it wouldn’t be the first one. Since Lizzie passed away, I’ve had them on and off, so has Nina, my little niece asleep in the room across the hall. I’ll never get rid of the image of her clinging to her mom in the ER. Demanding her to wake up. Begging the doctors to bring her back. Cooper, stroking her back and pulling her to him. Trying to explain to a four-year-old why that wasn’t possible. I didn’t think I could fall apart any more than I had when we’d been told my baby sister had died from the accident, but every bone in my body gave out watching Ninas world fall away from her so fast. That was a year ago, Cooper and I were all she had now.
By Francesca Riggs 5 years ago in Families
An Open Letter to Moms of Angels
Dear Mothers, You are a Mom. Even if your baby never got to take its first breath, you are a Mom. I am so, so sorry that you have lost your baby. No words or false 'it will get better's' will ever fill that hole from your child. It doesn't matter if it was miscarriage, stillborn, SIDS, or some other unfortunate event that ended in you losing your child.
By Shiloh Madison5 years ago in Families
Yes, Mom. The Weather is Delicious.
The moment I got out of bed this morning I was in a mood. A knot had formed in my stomach and began twisting itself into a tight fisted, lead balloon. It just sat there, in the middle of my stomach, making itself known and screwing with a perfectly good morning. I wish I knew what was wrong. I turned my attention to the coffee pot and tried to push whatever this was down as I filled the pot and scooped the coffee into the filter. Maybe I just need a shot of caffeine.
By Cheryl Mason Thompson5 years ago in Families
The Search
Sorting through the possessions of the living is one thing, but it feels ten times harder when you are sorting through the keepsakes of a beloved relative. I don’t want to be here, and I don’t want to do this but someone must and I drew the short straw. I don’t even know where to start, I only saw it once. No one else seems to know what I am talking about when I mention the little black book. It should have been with his important papers, right? It doesn’t help that I don’t know what else was in it. He just flashed it once, it wasn’t like I held it or anything. I am racking my brain attempting to reconstruct a conversation I had over twenty years ago, searching for clues. What if holds more than numbers? What if it holds the memories of horrors I’d rather not know, deeds done in secret best left to the dark. I’ve got to get hold of my run away imagination it just makes things confusing. Where is the radio? Let me listen to some music, commercials! Uggh! Can’t a girl zone out to some oldies, okay! Focus, focus, focus...... where would I put it? No that’s not right the question is where would he put it? Bookshelf, no, too public. Closet, no too private, not logical. Here bookie, where would you be? Look, calm down and think! No, not about love and loss, about the little black book with the leather cover! Finally! A clue, was it the size of my palm? Or bigger? Blue or black ink, black I think! Okay, what else do I remember? I wish I had paid more attention, asked more questions, I don’t even know what I said at the time. I remember being confused, startled even. What are you doing? Thinking about that is not going to help you! Get a grip! Wait what’s that over there? Small box....could it be okay come to momma! What would be the chances, it’s worse than the lotto or finding a needle in a haystack don’t get your hopes up. Umpf, it’s heavy, and dusty. Whatcha got there! Yikes you startled me, why are you creeping up on me? I wasn’t creeping, well I didn’t hear you. What do you want? I asked first, whatcha got? A box, why do you care? I am just asking, you don’t have to be so jumpy, I do have to be jumpy when you come sneaking in here! I wasn’t sneaking I said hi! Look you are making a tough job tougher go away and leave me in peace. I can help you. Thanks but no thanks it’s too little too late. Get out! See if I ever offer again! Finally! Now let’s see what’s in here!
By Rachel Brockman5 years ago in Families
