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.
Sunsets & Rainbows
The past year has been the hardest of my life. After a difficult year professionally, on top of the struggles everyone has faced with the Coronavirus, my mother passed away unexpectedly in her sleep on April 28th, 2020. She was my best friend for so many years. She taught me what it feels like to be loved unconditionally. It was a cruel lesson in life that every moment is prescious. No matter how honest, generous, or kind, the life that so many take for granted, can be over in an instant. She was a (relatively) healthy 58 year old woman. Always giving everything she had to those around her. The reason I am where I am today is because of the countless sacrifices she made to make my dreams come true. And even with all of the good she’s done, she just fell asleep and never woke up.
By Billy McDonald6 years ago in Families
Outside the Touch of Time
“To the outside world we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were, we know each other's hearts, we share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys....Brothers and sisters live outside the touch of time.” —Author unknown
By Jessica Richardson6 years ago in Families
Outside the Touch of Time
“To the outside world we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were, we know each other's hearts, we share private family jokes. We remember family feuds and secrets, family griefs and joys....Brothers and sisters live outside the touch of time.” —-Author Unknown
By Jessica Richardson6 years ago in Families
EIMBY
I wrote this piece a few years ago. March 22, 2018, in fact. It is a day that will live in my memory forever. I found this piece this morning and while reading it, I thought about the state of the world today. The racial, social and political tension that is plaguing our country and her people in 2020 is far beyond anything I can remember in my lifetime. Perhaps we all need to take a step back and remember who we are and what we are made of as a country.
By Phoenixx Fyre Dean6 years ago in Families
Moms Know Best, And You Will Too
Moms Know Best, And You Will Too Kristyn Meyer is on a journey to make herself the best human that she can be. These posts are a reflection of that. She welcomes your support via reading and through commissioned affiliate links within her posts! To stay up to date on all of her shenanigans, please subscribe to her email list! (psst…there’s a free gift involved)
By Kristyn Meyer6 years ago in Families
Blood in The Sand
All of the following events are inspired by true events, reader discretion is advised... A clump of cells, formed from the conception of two fools desperately in love. Life begins at the center and, for most seems to be one of the few blessings allotted as compensation for a lifetime of tragedy and misdeeds. We look at life as something that holds no true value, unless we are met with insurmountable odds; only then do we find its meaning to be of any real value. As Jeremy would come to know, life would hold no such quality for a very long time.
By Jesse Meade-wilson6 years ago in Families
My mom has PLS
It’s good I got to this contest in time. I was scrolling through Facebook or Insta and saw this contest and I thought about what to enter. I love using my brain. I don’t really need the money particularly, however, it’ll surely help my family with times being so hard right now. They’ll have more faith in what I do. I’ll explain. We’re an African-American family. We’re going through the same bullshit other blacks go through in this country. I’m blessed I haven’t had a cop pull a gun or me, been called a n****r in public, or have to use a COLOREDS ONLY restroom. I reside in Atlanta where racial tensions are less futile. The white people are way more friendly over there. That’s a joke. I’m not racist. Can’t be. But that’s another article. I recently moved back to Missouri City, TX to help my mom because she has a rare disease called PLS. That’s 20 minutes from Houston. Racism here is more likely. But I digress from that. PLS is a motor neuron deficiency disease my dear mom has. She can’t talk, walk straight, and has problems eating. She’s so frail. She’s at home all the time. Not bed ridden and I pray it doesn’t come to that. When she has to express herself it’s hard on me because I can hardly tell if she’s laughing or crying when she needs something. It gets scary. She has a communicator on her phone that reads her texts. I miss her voice, though... My dad is stronger than me. He helps her shower, in therapy, and use the bathroom. He’s a good man for it, but it’s hard on me because I will always remember my mom in a much more different and fun way. Athletic, getting up to work early, jumping around to Frankie Beverly and Maze, cooking the best fried fish you’ve ever had on the weekends. I know Christmases won’t be the same... My mom was really vocal and active. Actually, I don’t know how my dad does it when he takes care of her. My mom always said she didn’t want no nursing home if she ever got old and sick. My father obides. She’s only 66. He, 67. I know he took those ‘vows’ seriously. He’s a good man, but it’s just hard on me being her son. I think about girls I date seeing my mom and maybe they’ll get scared I’ll end up like her and dump me. Sometimes I get scared and think I’ll end up with PLS. I pray I don’t. I don’t want PLS!! Please understand that I’m not selfish and I do love my mom. I’m not writing this for money. You can count how many times I’ve said it. I guess a result of this is that the persons reading live every day like it’s their last. Carpe Diem. That’s the phrase. Don’t take walking for granted. Don’t take bathing for granted. Don’t even take eating for granted. Live, live, live. But live right. One day you’re here and the next you could be gone. At least try to live by that in this sad world. Life is so bittersweet. That’s what I’m seeing at my age. I’m 34. I pray my mom makes a FULL RECOVERY. She’s in rough shape, however, I still pray. I know there’s a God. He’s always good. Uhhhh, it’s hard. I guess you can tell from this entry I write professionally and you would be correct as shit. Like I said, I don’t ‘need’ the prize but it would help my family out and help them to believe in me to be a great writer. Be blessed.
By Daryl Campbell6 years ago in Families
Let go
October 1st 2017, was a sunny day with clouds in the air that were bigger than a boat. Little did the world know it was the day it would be my first time learning how death could teach me a thing or two. Waking up to a glass of warm coffee and a crying baby, in which was the only niece of mine. Before this crucial day my parents had split up and I ended up living with my sister. My dad stayed in our childhood home and my mom got a new apartment with her boyfriend and my brother. At the time my sisters husband, well now ex husband, just left the house for good and my sister was in this deep hole of depression and was never home. She was always out drink and doing things that never really made any sense. I learned my sister would buy things to fill up the hole this man had left her but in the end she would give up and sell the item in which she had purchased. In 2017 I was a junior in high school ,I didn’t know much but I learned very quickly how to take care of a child that wasn’t mine. It seems that many children in El Paso learn this it’s sorta a natural thing i’ve seen it every where. So my father took the separation very difficult he tried his best to talk with us and socialize with us but at that time it was already to late to catch up. My father was hard headed man or here in El Paso we would say old school, he would pay the bills while my mom cooked and cleaned for everyone. A construction worker is always out in the sun and that was my father career he was good with building/inventing things. But the one thing he was most good at was painting. Art flows through my family, like many others could be music, cooking, organizing etc,. But he would also come home drunk and yelling at everyone after work. It was pretty much and every day thing, my parents would fight and we would leave our home and sleep in other peoples homes or even the parks, behind stores etc. After awhile it gets old and you get used to the same thing over and over so my mom would sleep on the couch and my brother and I shared a room, my sister had her own house with her husband and child so she didn’t know what was going on. No body was really home and once you would enter the house you could just feel the sadness that runs through the air. My mom got me and my brother together and talked to us on how we felt at home because it was affecting the way we were at school. We had told her it wasn’t the same and we didn’t like going home anymore so she took initiative and told my father we were leaving and we grab all of our things and never turned back. My father gave up he didn’t know what else to do there wasn’t much he could’ve done either way we were stuck on emotion that we didn’t want to see the good. So on October 1st 2017 my father takes his own life in our childhood home. I’ve never heard so many cries and screams that day the sunny day turned into a long cold cloudy day. Since that day on we never spoke about my dad we don’t even talk to his side of the family because they hate my mom for what she did but they don’t really know why we left and the things we were going through. I picked up anxiety and massive drug abuse after my father passed and now in 2020 I’ve grown to see and appreciate the things that were given to me. I work harder every day to give the thing my loved ones need but at the same time I miss the old days when my dads side of the family would come to our house and have a small gathering here and there. It’s difficult to not have family on your side when you really need it the most. It’s July first and it’s my fathers birthday and that’s why I’m here to tell my story my he Rest In Peace and be a memory I’ll never forget.
By Hazel Sias6 years ago in Families
Running From Love
The snow hit the rocks and laid there still as glass and silence. Not a sound to be heard other than the howling winds. Wind which brought the crystallized specs all over the town and water on the edge of the ice covered beach. Water stilled, waves no more until the big thaw comes in the spring. Light pours out from the lighthouse above, rotating and spinning in all directions. Always on the lookout for any and all arrivals to the snow covered dunes.
By Katelyn Doner 6 years ago in Families
Numb
After this weekend, I realize that while my heart cries out and my tears fall, I still am in disbelief that my Joey is gone. Memories, like the one above will never be made again....that, doesn't compute in my brain. As much as I KNOW these times are gone, my brain still refuses to accept it. Someone who recently lost their child asked me if the numbness is "normal?" Normal....what exactly is that? We wonder if we are grieving correctly... what is the "proper" way to grieve?
By Kathleen Elizabeth Comfort-Steinbaecher6 years ago in Families
Death
A Death: On March 18, 2020 I lost someone very important to me. My grandmother who was one of the most important women in my life. She was an amazing woman who helped raise me. She was kind and always thought of others. Whenever we needed something she would be the first person in line to help. She had various health complications.
By Jay Cintron6 years ago in Families
Déjà Maybe
T-tops off, wind blowing, locs flowing, Marley playing, herb burning—I was flying. The thing about my family is we weren’t religious, meaning we didn’t subscribe to any dogma. I’m sure this has a lot to do with my mother being the person she has always been. A strong willed woman who was raised in a very religious, country household in the Jim Crow south; Zuni, Virginia to be specific. After living through segregation, integration, and being a so-called “black” wombman (as she often spelled woman), in this “land of our foremothers” (as she often called America), she at some point decided to unsubscribe to the traditions that had been blindly handed down for generations. It was probably some time during her enrollment at one of the local HBCU’s where the seed of curiosity began to sprout into the fully blossomed thirst for research. I mean, dad is smart, but mom is constantly learning in an attempt to find the universal truth that connects all, at least that’s my interpretation of how she tries to define her affinity. The best part is that she also instilled it in me, it’s even rubbed off on dad. For example, since my mom has been attesting to the power of words and etymology, and learning new languages like Hebrew, Arabic, and Kiswahili, dad did his due diligence and informed everyone that in Kiswahili, zuni is the root word for sad. Most people would see this as mere coincidence, however we don’t believe in such a thing. Everything is connected, we call it synchronicity. Now, I’m not saying that my mom had a sad childhood or that Zuni was a sad place. As dad puts it, “you don’t know you’re missing something if don’t first know that it exists.”
By Cameron Marquis6 years ago in Families
