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 Power Flower
My dad’s mother passed away when I was fifteen. October of 1991; I remember like it was yesterday. I was a freshman in high school and the typical self-absorbed teenager. I knew way more than my parents. Of course, in retrospect my parents were, and are, quite wise people. So being the hormonal monster that encompassed my essence so well, I wasn’t getting along with them. At all. We constantly argued over issues like the fact that I wasn’t yet allowed to date, my curfew, and my need for expensive clothes (because I was foolish enough to believe that my value derived from having a brand stamped on my ass). My life seemed wretched.
By Kellie Berry5 years ago in Families
The Final Goodbye
The rusted red paint on the old barn appeared faded beyond its years. The sky, too, devoid of any cheery brightness, shrouded the immediate landscape in a solemn bleakness, as if even the inanimate objects and elemental forces were mourning the death of the proprietor of the farm, Nicki’s grandfather.
By Amanda Emm5 years ago in Families
A Different Kind of Life
My feet drag across the ground as though my shoes are made of cement rather than the soaked fabric that clings to my feet. My chest feels just as heavy as I make my way through the thick mud that covers the ground. Slowly, stumbling from my heavy shoes and my weak knees. Rain falls in sheets. It soaked me the moment I stepped out of the house and I'm grateful for it. Sunshine on a day like today would be insult to injury.
By Kendra Payton5 years ago in Families
Cries of the Barn Owl
Yesterday was my tenth birthday. Normally, I would have woken up to my two older brothers, Seth & Jason, singing their embarrassing birthday version of “Lovely Rita” except they change the lyric “Lovely Rita, Meter Maid” to “Lovely Leda, Birthday Girl”. Then, my dad would make his “special birthday pancakes” which really just means they have sprinkles. And that night, we would all go to dinner at my favorite restaurant, “Rocco’s Waterfront”. But, none of that happened this year. Instead, here we all are dressed in black, staring at my father’s cherrywood casket. “Cherrywood is a classic”, that’s what the man at the funeral home told us. “It’s a bit richer than the mahogany, but you really can’t go wrong with any of the darker woods.” He made it sound as if we were picking out new cabinets for the kitchen.
By Laura Brooker Manning5 years ago in Families
The Visit
It had been a year, almost to the day. Sadie didn’t think her heart could break anymore than it already had. Of course it was raining today. Sadie could remember the incessant rain a year ago, as if the sky itself was weeping for her dad. She remembered the puddles at the gravesite, and everyone trying to stay dry under the small white tent while the pastor spoke a few words before the burial. But most of the events of that week were a blur: getting the call in New York that his heart had failed and he had died during what was supposed to be a “minor” surgery, flying home to Cincinnati, the funeral, the speech she gave (what the heck did she even say?), the sea of faces of friends, family, and strangers as they hugged her. She definitely remembered the rain, however. For 5 days in a row, it had rained nonstop. It had rained during the visitation, the funeral, the burial, and the meals with family that followed. It rained heavy. Everything was wet. The earth was mourning the loss of the greatest man Sadie had ever known.
By Chelsea Spack5 years ago in Families
Forever With Me
I didn't know how to continue when I lost her. The woman who gave me life was nearing the end of hers. The woman who would patch up my many scraped arms during my active youth could barely lift her own. The woman who read through my many school papers due within the next hour could no longer form a coherent sentence.
By Ghezal Amiri5 years ago in Families
