parents
The boundless love a parent has for their child is matched only by their capacity to embarrass them.
Gift Ideas for Arabic Mother’s Day Based on her Quirks & Personality Types
Every country has a unique history dating back to the celebration of Mother's Day. Internationally, it is celebrated on the second Sunday of May, but Middle East countries follow an Egyptian lead. Though the way of celebrating Mother's Day might be different in various countries, what's constant is the unconditional love of a mother and the need to appreciate their efforts.
By Niti Sharma5 years ago in Families
The Book
It was an idyllic summer night. Lilith looked out of the benchseat window of her bedroom in the attic of what used to be her Grandmother's house. The air was warm and sweet, the midnight blue sky was littered with stars and when the moon revealed itself from behind the passing clouds it was full and bright and felt like it was shining just for her. The breeze was cool as it gently caressed her falling tears. She didn't need a mirror to know that she had a black eye, a busted lip and clumps of hair missing. He had viciously beat her again and as usual he had locked her in here to think about what she had done to cause his "outburst".
By Mara Covet5 years ago in Families
Dear Daddy
Friday, July 24, 2015 5:30 a.m. Dear Daddy, You have been my father for 29 years and I am positive I waited around in heaven just for you and Mama; and I have always been your daughter; no matter the age I have become. I have not always been perfect but neither have you.
By Tahnee Cole5 years ago in Families
The Red Garter
“I quit!” I pushed the heavy pub doors open with my right shoulder and I turned to eyeball the boss and his dero mates. I flung my right arm out dramatically in Lady Gaga style. “Nobody touches me!” I bellowed, adding a hip wiggle to drive the point home. The bar erupted into boos and catcalls. Flipping my hair back I announced with pride, “I’m a singer! I’m not one of Madame Gardinaire’s girls.” I Stamped my foot in rage...my stiletto snapped! “Re...spect,” I whimpered as I lost my footing and fell, hurtling out of the pub down onto the street below.
By Chelinay Gates5 years ago in Families
Little Black Notebook
I held it tightly in my hands, my mouth suddenly as dry as a desert. So the rumours had been true. My father DID have a little black book. But what was I going to do with it? Various possibilities raced through my mind. I could just throw it away. But what if someone found it? Should I burn it? Would that be better?
By Anika Bathia Drysdale5 years ago in Families
Letters and Numbers
I stood on the stoop for what felt like forever. After a deep inhale, I pushed the door inward and hesitated, calling through the gap ‘Hello?’. The expected silence bid me to enter. The immediate visual and olfactory onslaught overcame me and I involuntarily brought my hand to my mouth - the scent of sweetness and death from browning flowers that were still held in faded posies around the round, with an aftertaste of what could only be described as ‘old person’ smell - the scent of baby powder, medicine and slightly stale urine. I counted only 5 bouquets, considering that this was all that was left of a friendless life, a life ruled by the dichotomy of wanting then discarding, pulling in then pushing away from people. “As in life, so is death”, my mousey voice disturbed the decrepit room.
By Katherine Dickson5 years ago in Families
THE SMELL OF THE LEATHER AND THE CRACK OF THE SPINE!
Timothy was a quiet shy young man and his mother often shook her head at how he was developing in ways that were so alien to her. She was strong, loud, impulsive and overbearing. While he was quiet, introverted and uncommunicative. He was so reluctant to talk that his frequent ‘conversations’ with his mother could best be called monologues where not a single word passed from his lips. In deep frustration one day just before his sixteenth birthday his mother had sank her fingers into his bony biceps and started to shake him while shouting, “What are you going to do with your life Tim? What will become of such a silent moody man? I don’t see what you can do when you might as well be mute!” She uttered a sound of disgust that almost covered over the noise he made that she almost thought was just air escaping his rattling lungs. In fact he had shoved an inhaler in and taken a puff as she released him. “What was that?” she demanded in a lower volume but most expectant tone. She forced herself to remain quiet for a moment and hope that it allowed him to repeat whatever response he had screwed up the courage or her shaking had ejaculated from his thin, pale lips.
By Taras Voevodin5 years ago in Families
The Dreamer
As Cassie opened the front door, a cascade of familiarity hit her like an overwhelming memory. But the coldness of the empty house, filled with so many memories, so much pain, so much confusion it was almost unbearable for her to take another step. Next was the sound that was most familiar to her. His voice.
By Belinda VanZant5 years ago in Families
One More Adventure
When parents pass away, a hole is left behind in the lives of their children. The size of that emptiness can vary depending on the relationship between the parents and their children. It can take the form of relief in the worst cases. Maybe it’s a somber sensation that never quite goes away, always returning when just the right memories are recalled from the recesses of the mind. For Nora it was a boundless chasm, and she was standing at the very edge of it.
By David Levins5 years ago in Families
Ruby Rift
We came into the world together, knowing we would depart it alone as we grew older and understood we were two and not one. We were born an hour apart, but a day and a month separated our timelines. I arrived on the last day of April, she on the first day of May. We were named for our respective months; identical in image, contrasted in idea.
By M.A.L. Pittman5 years ago in Families
