parents
The boundless love a parent has for their child is matched only by their capacity to embarrass them.
The Secret to Being a Good Father
Being a good parent is difficult. We want to protect our children from bad events. But unfortunately, our world isn't as safe as it was a generation ago. Seventy-five years ago, families left their houses unlocked at night. Kids came home from school without the constant lecture, "Don't talk to strangers." And we usually left the car keys in the ignition when it was parked in the driveway. It was OK to hitchhike from home to the center of town. Those were the good ole days. What have we become now? Sadly, we can't go back.
By Zante Cafe4 years ago in Families
Our Last Summer Together. Top Story - June 2022.
The days of summer in the year of 2003 felt different in ways I can’t explain. The innocence and the love were pure in the purest way possible. It was also the second last summer that I had spent with my father when he was alive. I could trade a hundred summers to live that one summertime all over again or maybe just over and over again. I can’t really be someone who could speak of a million childhood memories with their fathers. I only own a few and even that with no entirety but only glimpses. From those couple of memories, I have a really sweet memory with my father. A memory that I will always cherish.
By Mashal Haroon4 years ago in Families
Not All Parents Deserve Respect
When I was younger, my siblings and I went to church every Sunday. Every once in a while, the pastor would talk about the first three verses in chapter six of the book of Ephesians, and every time I heard it, I would roll my eyes. “Children obey your parents… Honor your father and mother… so that you will live a long life…” Conveniently, the lecture would end there. Never had I heard the fourth verse read or preached about. “Parents, do not provoke your children to anger… nourish them”.
By T. A. Marron 4 years ago in Families
Keeping It Cool In the High Desert
As a homesteader on my family's offgrid farm, there where a lot of little moments that made up summer. Like when Mom came back with a couple of those “king cone” ice creams, after getting propane at the convenience store, for my sibling, M, and I. Delightful surprise. We ate that while watching another episode of Sweet Tooth on M's iPad. Or finding out the Junior mints melted in the box in the cupboard. Or drinking iced apple cider, after I hammered in ice into the mouth of the bottle with the handle of the kitchen knife.
By Jolan Kopp4 years ago in Families
My Father - My Inspiration
I have many bad days. Days where it seems like getting out of bed is a struggle, leaving the house is nigh on impossible and enjoying my-self… well that is impossible. I get into my head and end up overthinking the situation like any body else would do. This just leads to more and more bad days. I end up thinking that I’m the only person in this situation and everyone else in the world is fine. ‘Why? Why am I the only person that this stuff happens to,’ my over dramatic brain always seems to say. Its about that point that I remind myself that I don’t have to look too far to see someone who has been through ten times what I have been through.
By SANAA | multimedia4 years ago in Families
I’ll Be Right There
My father. He is a force to be reckoned with when it comes to protecting his family. He is the “I’ll be right over” and “come on over, I’ll make breakfast” kind of Dad. To call him a hard worker is putting it lightly and he’ll never turn his back on what he knows to be the right thing to do.
By Emily Beck4 years ago in Families
Dads
He had held me as a baby. He had brought me home from the hospital. I was adopted, but I was his family. He held me with love. Some men build you up and others crash you down. He was a builder. He helped push my mother to new horizons. His words were "You can, you can." Sometimes I cry that he was not the man who grew up with me. I wonder what I might have done with a cheerleader of a father by my side, Instead of hearing everything I needed to change and fix, I would have had someone standing behind me. If he stood behind his wife he would have stood behind his daughter. He had pride in his family. His household conducted conversations between adults, not the huge confrontations I grew up with. Once he died the love in the house seemed to fade.
By Antoinette L Brey4 years ago in Families
My grandpa, my father, my pops!
Growing up I always wondered why my dad didnt love me and didnt want to be my dad! I always thought maybe I did something wrong. It was bad enough my mom was never truly there for me but not having a dad as well made it even harder. I used to watch my friends get hugged by their dad or have their dad tell them he loved them while I just smiled and wished I was them. I remember the first time I met my dad, I was twelve years old and there was a knock on my door(my grandparents door) and when I opened it, there stood a man I only knew by pictures I had seen and a voice I had heard a handful of times in my life. My heart was raising and not because I was excited to meet him but because I wanted to scream at him and I wanted to tell him how much I hated him for not loving me and how I needed a dad and he was never there! But just as I was about ready to tell him all of this I saw my grandpa pull up in the driveway and instead of doing just that I ran past that man who was never there for me and ran right up to my grandpa and squeezed him so tight! It was at that very moment I realized I had always had a father and why I didnt see it until then I dont know. My grandpa laughed, “Okay Chrystal, dont squeeze the life out of me!” I looked back at that man I didnt know and told him to leave! My grandpa pulled me closer and whispered, “Just hear him out sweety, or you might regret it!” I let that man I now call only by his first name (Darryl) into the house and we sat down at the kitchen table. He tried to tell me it was my moms fault he was never a part of my life. He explained she wouldnt let him see me and it wasnt until I moved into my grandparents (when I was eight) that he was able to talk to me on the phone. I didnt know if I should believe him but my mom wasnt there to say otherwise. For the next two years he actually called me once a week, sent me birthday and christmas presents and had me come visit him in Pennsylvania and meet my siblings for the first time. I actually began to think maybe my mom did keep me away from him. But then, just as fast as he came into my life, he was gone again! He stopped calling me, stopped sending me presents, and the number I had for him was disconnected! It broke me all over again but my “true” father was there to help me through it. It has now been almost 28 years since I first met Darryl and within those 28 years I have seen him another handful of times and I even invited him to my wedding two year's ago. He told me he would come but he thought I should have my grandpa walk me down the aisle! I laughed so hard when he said that, and I actually laughed out loud at him. I told him, “My father will for sure be walking me down the aisle, not you Darryl, I only thought it was the polite thing to do and invite you since the siblings are all coming (Im close with all 5 of them). About a week before the wedding I received a letter in the mail from him telling me he thought it was best he not come to the wedding because it would only embarrass him! He went on an on about how it wasnt fair that I treated him that way! How I treated him?? I didnt care how I treated him, he deserved every last bit of it! The day of my wedding came and as my “true” father, whom I call pops was hugging me at the end of the alter, I squeezed him so hard and I closed my eyes to just embrace that hug that I almost forgot I needed to turn around to get married but then a voice laughed in my ears, “Okay Chrystal, dont squeeze the life out of me!”
By Chrystal Holdren4 years ago in Families
I Have Three Dads
I have three dads. Technically, only one of them is biologically mine, and the other two are both ex-step-dads. My biological father died of liposarcoma when he was 33 years old after an arduous battle for at least 2 years. It's a rare type of cancer, especially in young men. My identical twin sister and I were only 2 years old when this happened, and I can't remember him anymore. I can remember a time when I DID remember him. at four years old, I would hide behind the white leather couch at our old house on Rosetree Lane and cry. I missed his voice and his smell, the last two things that I can recall remembering about him.
By Anna Michaletz4 years ago in Families
