parents

The boundless love a parent has for their child is matched only by their capacity to embarrass them.

Life Spent
My father started working with the UN before I was born. Prior to his post with the organization, he held a position with the WHO. Although my father had completed his formal education with the ninth grade, he was well-read and self-taught in a lot of disciplines, with the English language being one. His knowledge of French put him shoulder to shoulder with some of the best academic students. We called him Papa. He wanted his children to carry on the legacy of being polyglots, knowing that language would be the doorway to many opportunities.
By Akpene4 years ago in Families
Unbreakable
I’ve heard that a Dads first daughter is truly his best friend. As your only child, I believe this is a fact. You always wanted a son, but when I was born, I see I changed your life forever. We were inseparable, and you always would bend the rules for your little girl. Never mind bedtime, you would love sneaking me out of bed at night, to come watch scary movies with you. This is probably why I’m such a night owl , and love horror films today. Mom would say “no sweets”. For your baby girl, I would always get the ice cream I wanted. It was like we had a code, an understanding. You took me everywhere with you, to the point they called me your little twin. We do look a lot a like though, even act the same. When I was born left handed like you, my mom wanted me to eat with my right hand, just so I could have something like her. In her head, I know she thought, wow I carried her for nine months, but she looks and acts just like you. Our bond was always unbreakable.
By Blair Baltimore 4 years ago in Families
Best parents ever.
Subconscious log number unknown, file data lost. Actual date sometime at 5am the summer of 1973. Get up son it's time to go. I don't want to get up dad! Let's sleep in I groaned. That is not an option son I'll be in the car. After driving for what seemed like a long time but it really wasn't, we arrived at our destination. It was a stocked lake in the middle of nowhere Ohio. I was sixish years old and about to embark on my very first fishing experience. The sandwiches were plain old peanut butter, but I remember somehow they tasted like 5 star cuisine after a few hours out on the lake when my dad pulled them out of that Coleman cooler.
By robert rowe4 years ago in Families
Counting Memories
3 I remember being excited at the sight of the vast sandbox, as he scooted me through the gate and closed it swiftly. As if he didn't trust me not to try and dart through before he could get it latched, which was a fair suspicion. But for the time being, I was completely enthralled with my buckets, plastic shovel, and endless amounts of sand.
By Myrna Collins4 years ago in Families
The head of the family
It’s 2006 and 6 months before my dad dies. I obviously didn’t realise it at the time but valuable lessons were learnt in these 6 months and I wish I’d have recognised them when they were happening but the nice thing is that I often look back and think about how they made me who I am today and that’s the lasting effect of memories, cherish or dismissed.
By Matthew Grantham4 years ago in Families
Daddy for a summer holiday
A few years ago, I got a phone call from an ex-girlfriend, who I will call Anne for the sake of the story. "-Hi, Alex! How are you doing lately? I heard you live in the UK now."
By Alex Blackmeer4 years ago in Families
Dad story
I never got on with my dad. Before he passed away, in his last few years, we bonded as much as two people could bond with 30 years of disagreement between them, but for the most part, a river of acrimony ran between us.
By Jamie Jackson4 years ago in Families
Destiny’s Fences. Runner-Up in Dads Are No Joke Challenge.
The car dinged its door-ajar warning. Dad crouched over near the fence. Between the car dings I could hear the shutter click of his Nikon D3.
By Ryan Greendyk4 years ago in Families
Two out of Three Ain't Bad
A Father was dying. In the grand scheme of things, this seems trivial in a global aspect, but to the Son this was the globe in whole.
By D.D. Schneider4 years ago in Families
Five Times My Dad Was Right
My dad is a weird dude. I mean, he's not serial killer weird or anything, but he's never quite fit into that Suburban Dad mold I grew up around. In mid-1980s Small Town USA, dads were either contractors or mid-level Bell Telephone executives who drank beer while they mowed the lawn and joined bowling leagues and watched baseball on TV every Saturday. My dad was never into sports. My dad worked in the human services field and listened to Broadway musicals. His mowing-the-lawn beverage of choice was iced tea, and he cultivated sourdough starters decades before it was Covid-cool.
By Jessica Conaway4 years ago in Families
A Father's Curse
As far back as I can remember, one of the main things I can remember about my father was him being in prison. I remember riding the train with my mom to these big buildings and having to go through metal detectors. To a young kid like me, oblivious to the world around me, this was just another fun adventure. I'd play with the storage lockers and bounce my spider-man figure from seat to seat.
By Yovin Chevere4 years ago in Families
The Things We Remember
The last words I ever said to my dad were something like, “I don’t want the next phone call I get about you to be someone telling me that you’re dead.” I had a feeling in my gut that it would be. The last two years of my dad’s life seemed surreal. The man who had raised me and my siblings was gone, just a shell of a man he used to be. This couldn’t be happening to us; he couldn’t be choosing death over being our father. Looking back now, I understand it wasn’t that simple. None of it was.
By Kristy Riley4 years ago in Families