Lifestyle
For the lives that we love, and everything that comes with it.
What I Learnt About Death
My Grandfather was a good man. As a young man, he served his country in battle, fighting for the freedom of those unable to defend themselves against the tyrants who imposed their will on the world. As a working man he served his community, fighting for fairness and equality of those who worked alongside him, trading blows with the heavyweights of industry whose tanks and shells had long-since been replaced with cuts in wages and inequitable conditions, and where men who worked themselves into early graves for paltry sums underpinned the few who grew continuously richer from their efforts. As a family man, he fought to preserve the innocence of his children in a changing world which saw men walk on distant rocks and peer into the far-flung reaches of the galaxy; and as an Old Man, he served his peers, his church, and his community, offering shelter and sustenance to those in need of his Christian charity. A man whose honour and decency was well-represented by the hundreds who mourned his passing, and passed glorious platitudes to those who knew and loved him most, lining the wood-adorned walls, smiling solemnly and shaking hands with the well-wishers who wished him well in his passing. Those who knew him well, loved him well, and remarked to his widow as such. And through tear-stained dignity, she accepted each gracious apology for his loss, followed by his children—my father and uncle—then by the grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and countless nieces and nephews.
By Mark Williams8 years ago in Families
When Your Cat Inadvertently Tries to Destroy Your Life
I am an owner of a cat called Dante (which my vet tells me is quite a common name for a cat…who knew?!). Well I say I am the owner, however I’m pretty sure Dante owns me. He has managed to manipulate all possible emotions to make me do anything for him. I even want him at my wedding (although my sister says this is a step too far).
By Liberty King8 years ago in Petlife
Postpartum Depression Made Me a Better Mother
I dreamed of being the girl in the movie scene, crying in the bathroom, holding a pregnancy test, and hugging her husband that could not wait to see how beautiful she would be carrying their first child. Never once did I think that pregnancy could be traumatic and brutal and not so hard to accept as "beautiful" and "a miracle." Pregnancy reared its ugly head, and snapped me into reality when I was 23. Postpartum depression was inevitable for someone like me, who suffered from mental illness, someone who had just spent a summer partying with the worst of them and doing things any parent would tremble at. Out of everything that was difficult, being a mother would not be. I may not have realized it when I wanted nothing but to be cool and get high and go to the bar, but being a mom was always my very first dream. But still, I was completely and utterly devastated when the doctor came into the room and said, “The rabbit died,” an old phrase used to describe something very new. I understood neither. I accepted neither. I was incapable of loving myself, I was still looking for someone to save me, I was still completely dependent on everyone else. How was I supposed to validate the existence of another being when I was still using other people to validate my own? Within ten minutes, I was expected to plan for a life and a future of someone else; I hadn’t even cared about my own for the last ten years. The fairytale scene I wanted was robbed by a man in a white coat that wrote me a prescription for prenatal vitamins instead of the painkillers I was there for originally. That doctor said, “Good luck to you,” as I left his office, and the only thing that remotely resembled a movie scene was the white-knuckle grip I had on my paperwork and the words I screamed to God as I flew down the interstate to inform a soul as lost as my own that he was (regrettably) the father of my child.
By Jessica wilson8 years ago in Families
Why I Joined a Grief Counseling Group, and Why You Should Too
About a year after my mother's passing, I started reading a book by Cheryl Strayed, an author whose mother also died when she was younger. Her two-page account of that event made me cry six times that night. I cried more times in one evening than I had over the entire first year of my mother being gone.
By Aspen Drake8 years ago in Families
12 Fun Art Projects for Kids
Coloring is the perfect rainy day activity. It’s kid-tested and parent-approved, and it’s undeniably better for brain development than sitting in front of the television for hours. However, even the most creative children run out of artistic ideas eventually. What follows is a list of fun coloring projects to try out when a little inspiration is needed.
By Alice Minguez8 years ago in Families
A Doggy Love Story
My family has always had a Golden Retriever as our family dog and even bred two of them for several years. Henry was the male and was always "my dog" as a teenager. I always said that one day I would have one of his puppies. For as long as I can remember from us having golden retrievers, I always wanted a puppy of my own when the time was right and I was capable of caring for my own dog independently. Unfortunately; after several litters of puppies, my parent's female dog Lilly was pretty worn out so my parents decided to neuter Henry and stopped breeding the two of them. I was devastated because I was still not in the right place to care for my own dog and I really thought I had missed my chance of having one of Henry's puppies. Shortly after the two stopped breeding, I moved to Dallas for several years and then to Austin, TX. The only dog I ever got to see during that time were on the rare occasions I would visit Henry while staying in East Texas for the holidays.
By Hannah Joy Stacy8 years ago in Petlife
