immediate family
Blood makes you related, loyalty makes you family.
walk on water
So it's like this: We're out swimming. It's a clear day. The blue sky mirrors the blue walls of our circular, above-ground pool. It's as hot as it gets in Michigan, maybe 90 degrees. Naturally, as a ten-year-old kid out on summer break, I spend every waking moment splashing about the cool, filtered water.
By Cameron Seyj4 years ago in Families
Yellow
Sitting across from him at the dinner table, her head tilted to the side with feigned interest, she listened to the same words he had spoken earlier that day. His voice was still intoxicating, soothing and warm; his hands moving with animation and enthusiasm as he told the story of his recent encounter with a vegan waitress. She knew the punch line; she had already cringed internally knowing how the waitress would have looked down upon him with both disgust and pity. He wouldn’t have noticed, oblivious to the reactions of others. That was how he was, how he always had been. Someone once described the feeling to her as ‘yellow’; the way your heart breaks for someone when they cannot see that others are laughing at them, not with them. That once they walk away from a crowd, whom they thought they had been entertaining, the crowd would roll their eyes at them behind their back and giggle, while they go about their day with blissful ignorance. He was a good man, but so often for him she felt yellow.
By Tiffany Dahl4 years ago in Families
Find the Hero
You grew up with a father, a surrogate father, or the idea of what a father should be, or maybe none at all. Each of us has our own story. Some of them are wonderful stories, some are tragic stories, but are told through our own eyes and experiences as we had lived them.
By Steve Lance4 years ago in Families
The father he didn't have to be.
I have never really had a father figure in my life for the most part. My real father was more of an abuser and just bad man. I was put into foster homes at age seven because of his abuse. I was molested when I was seven years old. I wasn't sure what was going to happen to me at that age, and I was terrified. After that, it became hard for me to trust most men and almost everyone else. I was still friendly, but standoffish. Every foster home I went into, only drew me that much further down the rabbit hole. My real father got visitation rights here or there up until I was ten, then he decided to sign his rights off. That left me, scared and alone....in the foster care system. As a ten you old you come to learn that the older you get, the chances of you actually getting adopted are pretty slim. All in all, I was in eight foster homes, all abusive except for three. My last two foster homes were a blessing, as I learned that there were actually people out there that DID care and could treat you well. When I lived in my second to last home, they found my biological mother and began the process of me being able to live with her. I was nervous, scared, anxious, confused. I had come to love the home that I was in, and I knew that they loved me as well. Everything worked out for my biological mother, and I moved to Texas to live with her. She was married then to a nice guy, but they later parted ways. After that, I met the man I now call my Dad. At first, I couldn't fathom the thought of him and my mother being together. I hated the whole world and I'm horrified to say that I didn't exactly treat him very well. In short, I was a brat and made him feel bad quite often. After three months, I started realizing that he wasn't going anywhere and I started to warm up to him. I was still a teenager and plenty of a handful. But, we got to know each other and eventually he and my mother got married. I remember while he and my mom were married, one year he rented out a whole skating rink for my birthday and only two people showed up. It was such a sweet gesture looking back now, but I was so upset that day. My dad and mom handled it very well and we became closer. Sadly, their marriage wasn't meant to be. They parted ways but stayed close friends. My mother moved us to Kansas to be near my grandmother. My dad went back to Texas. He would come visit and occasionally I would get to go visit him in Texas. I wound up going to Job Corps for schooling and he came to get me one summer for vacation. I remember going to Texas to stay with him and his new girlfriend. I really liked her. They had a house by lake Ft. Worth and we got to go out on a boat. Dad even let me drive!!! (I almost accidentally made him fall out of the boat when I took a turn too fast). So life went on, my dad and I stayed in contact and talked quite often after that. Eventually, I wound up marrying my first husband, didn't really tell anyone much about it. He was a military guy and we wound up staying married for five years. During that marriage, I had moved to Wisconsin and had a baby boy. We had our son in Kansas, then moved up to Wisconsin shortly after. My ex husbands family lived in Wisconsin and I was persuaded into moving there, even though I didn't really want to. After we split, I moved into my own townhome apartment with our son. He was still active duty, but got discharged shortly after our separation. We were divorced Aug 2006. I moved on with our son, he got to see him on weekends and we switched arranged schedules so both parents were involved. I didn't have my family near me here, and I was alone without much support. I worked and still managed to provide for my son and myself. Time passed, then I met my second husband. We dated for 6 years before finally marrying July 2010. We had a little house we wound up renting and my son lived with us. Again, sadly this marriage didn't last. I found out he was unfaithful (just like the first) and decided to move back home to Kansas. I wanted to be back around my family. During the time that this had all been going on, my dad had decided to move from Texas to Kansas. I decided that since my son was currently in school at the time, that I would let him stay with his grandparents in Wisconsin until school was out for the year. I would come back in a couple of moths, and bring him home then. Sadly, that never happened. I got moved back to Kansas, wound up staying a couple of months with my dad until I found a place with a friend of mine. I tried to contact my ex in laws to move my son to Kansas, but was thwarted and blocked at every try.
By Trisha Brandhorst 4 years ago in Families
MY HERO MY DAD
MY DAD AND MOM TRIED FOR FIVE YEARS, AFTER THEY WERE MARRIED, TO CONCEIVE A BABY. MY BROTHER WAS CONCEIVED; HOWEVER, HE WAS STILLBORN. THEN I CAME INTO THE PICTURE FOURTEEN MONTHS LATER. BOY, DID I EVER COME INTO THE PICTURE. I WAS A BLUE BABY, AND FOR TWELVE DAYS I FOUGHT LIKE HELL TO LIVE. DAD AND MOM PRAYED I WOULD LIVE.
By Joye C Lange4 years ago in Families
Dads Are No Joke
I'm sure that when my dad, Larry, became a father 32 years ago, he didn't expect to go through half of the things that he has had to endure with me as his daughter. Unfortunately, I have had a life long struggle with addiction and mental health issues, and countless bad decisions. I cannot begin to imagine what it must be like to be my father.
By Miranda Ivory Marie4 years ago in Families
Dad's Barbeque Ribs
What does summer taste like to me? Naturally when I was a child, summer meant the taste of freedom, except for when we had to work on those school books over the summer, and I'm not talking about the reading. It meant no more tyranny from school. It meant being able to stay up late, sleeping in till noon, late night fishing with Dad (mosquito bites included), mowing the lawns on other days than the weekend (cutting some green to earn some green, ka-ching!), summer band classes, and of course barbeque.
By Thavien Yliaster4 years ago in Families
“Come back here!”
As a child, my father was my world. He would play a silly game that he dubbed, “come back here!” I would pretend to run away while he would grab me back saying, “come back here” in his funniest voice. His deep lulling voice changed into silly characters and operatic parodies, shooting my imagination past the stars. Nightly stories that spread over every kingdom and flourished from the tiniest insect to the tallest mountains, poured from that voice. A voice that clamoured off the walls. A voice who told my mother she was never good enough. A voice who said "I don't know when I'll be back." And didn't return.
By Miriam Hall-thepapermirror4 years ago in Families
Happy Father's Day
I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. I wish you could see how much you inspire me. I watch you each day, I see your beautiful face, still beautiful, but different somehow. The years are going by so fast. You're getting older, and there are so many things that I want to tell you. About my life. So many more things I want you to see me do. So many special moments I want to share with you. I want to share the rest of my life with you.
By Loren Manu4 years ago in Families
