immediate family

Blood makes you related, loyalty makes you family.

Returning Home
Sabbia, a town so influenced by the ocean that the sea salt carries in every breath. The pasta is salted by it, the produce enriched by it and the wine has a distinct dryness that makes you crave just one more glass. It is not the most beautiful town on the Gulf of Naples but it is an honest place where people wear their grudges on their sleeves.
By Bianca Cardaci5 years ago in Families
Bound
In between my brother and I were boxes that we set down on the floor. It was all spread out in our tiny apartment and we couldn’t figure out which we would open first. The twenty thousand dollars was a surprise enough, but we wondered what the boxes had in store for us. Was it there? Did he leave it for us to find or did he take it with him? Would be it lost forever?
By Gabriel de Leon5 years ago in Families
Celebrate Family
I was reflecting today as I often do, and while doing so I realized it has been 25 years since my grandmother, Marcella Rush, (Da'Ma, as we affectionally called her) went home to be with the Lord. Upon this realization also came the awareness of how we often take life and all it holds for granted. Almost 30 years ago when I was shot and the doctors performed a surgery that miraculously saved my life I was newly married and awaiting the birth of my first child. Preparing to celebrate a new family. When I contracted the coronavirus I had recently returned from Kentucky and Ohio where I celebrated Thanksgiving with family. So, as one who is currently recovering from the effects of the coronavirus, I can tell you that death is standing right outside the door and can take you unawares. Making the celebration of family that much more important.
By Rodney L. Sutton, Sr.5 years ago in Families
The Remaining Balance
The sun slowly sank in her rearview mirror as Frances drove her tiny sedan to the bank. She felt the sunlight envelope her, even though it first passed through a glass rear window, reflected through a glass rearview mirror, and slipped through her dark sunglasses. The strip mall to her left was baked in an orange pre-dusk glow. A late afternoon in the summer always had this look and feel. An anticipatory calm coddled the town. The day, in a final sleepy motion, stripped down and sunk into a hammock, anticipating a summer’s evening of activities. A few people milled about. But Frances was the one lonely observer to bear witness to this strange time of day.
By Nicholas Zampa5 years ago in Families
Arthur Drive
Wilma slammed shut the door of her little beige Ford Focus, mentally checked-out walking up to her apartment door, being careful not to slip on the slick pavement from recently frozen over sidewalk. Fingering the correct little gold key into the lock with oversized mittens still on, sighing out a big breath closing the door behind her.
By Holly Cook5 years ago in Families
Keep Going
Money can’t buy happiness. Growing up on the West side of Eldrick View, I was always told to be grateful for what I have. I mean at least we weren’t living on the streets. This guy Jacob and his whole family got kicked out last week and are God knows where trying to survive. Money can solve so many issues. How could it not solve happiness?
By Meriam Santiago Alhajam5 years ago in Families
Check that again
I can definitely use twenty-thousand dollars. In fact, it’s exactly what I need, at exactly this moment in time. My phone rings morning to night from bill collectors. I’m living on a cash basis these days (and not much of it). And, as it happens, I’ve just negotiated a payment settlement with the IRS - for twenty-thousand dollars I do not have. It might as well be a million dollars.
By Phoenix A5 years ago in Families
Motherly
It’s been two months since she died, but the memory of Ash’s mother hangs around her like a wet, heavy wool cloth that won’t dry. Seeping and dripping into everything.
By fēnix grace5 years ago in Families
Secrets In My Mother's Journal
My mother died on a deceptively blue summer day in August. She’d been sick just about a year with cancer that ravaged relentlessly, never giving her a chance, not really.
By Iisannah5 years ago in Families
The Orphan Killer
You are nothing. You are unloved, these are the thoughts that raced through young Sarah’s mind. In the distance a man calls out, “Sarah?” In a daze she nods away her thoughts and replies, “yes?”
By Holly Underwood5 years ago in Families
Family Tree
All he ever wanted was some damn peace and quiet – to sit alone with a box of Fuentes and a glass of Johnnie Walker. He had put in his time, working nearly 50 years to provide for his wife, son and daughter. With his children finally grown, occupied by families of their own and his wife ten years gone, he felt his selfishness was relatively justified. He was never a bad father, just terribly busy – often starting work before his children woke and returning far past their bedtimes. This left very little time to do fatherly tasks such as teaching them to ride a bike or building the tree house in the backyard he once promised.
By Sarah Lynn Hyatt5 years ago in Families
Luck's Smile
Luck’s Smile Busara kneeled as she cleansed her face with the ice-cold water from the creek. She felt it rinse the dust from her cheeks and forehead as it dribbled down her chin. The evening air began to chill as the sun set, it was around six o'clock in Tanzania. Busara was always amazed that the horizon she passed every day can look so different. She had just finished a sixteen-hour shift at the tanzanite mines and she still had a long walk ahead of her. Busara hadn’t found anything in the mine that day, as usual. She has been working in the mines since she was twelve. When she started, she was frightened of the long walk to and from the mines; but as time moved on, she got accustomed to it. She walked dragging her feet behind her, stopping at the water pump to bring back clean water. People had forgotten about that water pump, during a drought it started to get people sick even when they boiled the water. The pump always seemed to have an overpowering smell of rotten eggs. The government had built a new pump closer to the village and people soon forgot about the old pump. One morning, Busara walked past the old pump on her way to work. She was so thirsty that she decided to try to drink from it, aware of how unsafe her choice was, she had noticed on her travels that ever since the new well had been built the smell from the old well had begun to disappear. The day passed by uneventfully, and when she told her family in the evening, her father said not to tell anyone. The main water pump of the village was always crowded and dirty, so the family agreed to keep it a secret. From that day on she got water from it every day. She would leave a bucket beside the pump every morning and every evening she would bring it back full.
By Niki Newport5 years ago in Families