parents
The boundless love a parent has for their child is matched only by their capacity to embarrass them.
misFORTUNE
Once a successful young woman on the right track in life, Lisa would come to endure some detrimental agony in her years of adolescence that would carry over into her adulthood. With little to no guidance she fell into a spiraling lack of fate. In some way, shape or form we all have experienced our own form of life changing circumstances. Unfortunately, tragedy is apart of life. In most cases people find ways to overcome their troubles and push through but not in this one. Tragedy costed Lisa her life and secrets never revealed would come full circle. Soon, her misfortune would become her fortune and change everything she once knew forever.
By Jakhi Jordan5 years ago in Families
"$40,000 SPECIAL"
1 I sat there staring at it for what felt like days but I knew it'd been only hours.The time since hearing my uncle spill had passed like a rush of water,bursting forward with all the zeal of that first shower splash.Perhaps that what I needed right now,I thought before returning my focus to the little black book.
By Tedmond Adiele5 years ago in Families
Drive Faster
I could smell the city on me. No one needed to point it out. It was the smell of fast food, exhaust fumes, sweat and wind. If I had a car, this smell would be a thing of the past. The smell of hard work and life never cutting you a break. The smell of my mom. Life never cut her a break. She wouldn't have allowed it to if it had tried. She was too mean and tired and stubborn to ever accept help from anyone. In the end, that's probably why he left. It's hard to love a wild dog. You will always get bit, eventually.
By Kristen Lantz 5 years ago in Families
What we teach our kids when we don’t take care of ourselves
You love your children with everything you’ve got, but what’s sacrifice got to do with it? What do we teach our children when we don’t take care of ourselves first? Are parents not worthy of self-care? When you put everyone else’s needs before your own, you may experience self-neglect. Neglect means uncared for properly and is a form of abuse. Are you telling your children that parenthood is a form of self-abuse?
By Robin Jessie-Green5 years ago in Families
The Almanac
Jeremy slouched beneath the oak tree and looked out over the horizon. It was more for dramatic effect than any inquisition against the natural world. He let out a deep, controlled sigh as the lukewarm dregs of his beer sloshed about lazily in the glass bottle dangling from his fingers. Only several feet behind him, the earth upon his father’s grave still swelled freshly above the surrounding grass. It was a pleasant service—simple and endearing, family, and neighbors who had ascended to the rank of family in attendance. What one might call “quaint” if they weren’t afraid of being called “patronizing.” The shield of grey clouds overhead protected them from the harsh August sun and even invited the mourners to linger after they’d laid the casket in the earth.
By Gage Glass5 years ago in Families
The Cabin
The Cabin The car crept slowly down the dirt road. It was nearing midnight and the sky was inky black. As the rain poured down Riley could only make out the road by the puddles of water that were glinting by the light of the car headlights. Riley had never seen this much rain in her whole life and she was mesmerized by the sheer volume of it. How it ran down the windshield in torrents and was swept off with each swish of the wiper blades. The sound of the rain was deafening on the car roof as each large drop hit in rapid succession.
By Lori Patterson5 years ago in Families
Rendezvous
March 21, 2019 My mother remarried again this year to a rich, exquisite man in Granite, New York. After Paw died she started leaving more often taking faraway trips, she stated, " I am living the life your father has deprived me of, if I went with my mind instead of listening to my parents I could have been rich all along." As you can see my mother has the mindset of those country farm girls who wish to move on to the city life to live big and ravishing. When she took these faraway trips I took this as an opportunity to keep up with the farm and try my hardest to stay in the town I was raised but knowing my mother she wouldn't allow her country little piglet to stay there. "Loreley I know your father's death has hit you hard but we have to move on my wedding is in 2 months and we need to be packed and ready to leave for our new home, my mother stated." She knew what I was up too but she always found a way to step in between my plans as Paw use to say," Your mother works like the devil to keep everything according to her imaginary lifestyle."
By Melexi Thomas5 years ago in Families
Circles
“Just take what you want,” I say loudly to my sister in the other room. “I don’t want any of it.” I sink down into my father’s old armchair, instantly swallowed by masses of hard fabric and foam that are used to a much larger frame than my own. My eyes scan the room by habit. There’s nothing here to catch my eye-- I know the layout of my father’s bedroom by heart. And still, I find myself staring at objects I’ve already memorized, in both shape and placement within the space. It’s a welcome distraction, really. I note the piles of laundry that have been neatly folded, stacked on top of the dresser but not put away. His too-big bed fills the space almost obnoxiously, making the room look even smaller. Light streams from the window, shining mainly on his nightstand that’s been settled in the right-hand corner of the room for as long as I can remember. My eyes shift to the prayer beads nestled neatly on top of the nightstand, the harsh glint of the afternoon light bouncing off of each bead. Instinctively, I reach out to touch the beads, running my fingers over the smooth spheres as my grandfather did, as my father does. Or did, until yesterday. The brown beads feel cold to the touch, despite the sun beating down upon them. They, too, feel my father’s absence. Here, he is everywhere, but nowhere to be found. His scent fills the air, as if he is right around the corner, waiting to be noticed. But he doesn’t appear. He can’t, for that matter, because he dropped to the ground last night and never got up. A mysterious final act for a mysterious man, I suppose.
By Meelahn S-W5 years ago in Families
My Dad, Benjamin
My Dad, Benjamin It was a sunny and crisp Saturday morning nearing my moving home day. I was not looking forward to having to move and the task ahead of me this weekend. My renovations were almost done and I was determined, or more determined than when I had to empty my house, to not move items in that I no longer need to carry with me.
By Sara Christine5 years ago in Families
Sawdust, Oil and Love
Growing up, I always had strong feelings about my father’s workshop. Dad made magical things happen in his workshop – from turning the rusted shell of an old car filled with trash into a shiny red (and fast) 1957 Alfa Romeo Guiletta that earned me the nickname of Speed Racer in High School, to turning scrap wood into heirloom quality mid-century furniture scattered throughout our house. It is a source of great pride to wander through my house and point out the things my dad made. My favorite thing, though, is the bookshelf he built in junior high woodshop class.
By Kathleen Higgins5 years ago in Families
