grief
Losing a family member is one of the most traumatic life events; Families must support one another to endure the five stages of grief and get through it together.
Arrowhead
Allow me to tell you about my grandfather. When I was a child, I spent an untold number of hours with my grandfather. He was tall and handsome, and absolutely full of life. He was also a collector, stopping every chance he could to pick up some small trinket or interesting object to add to his collection. He was particularly fond of Native American arrowheads. He loved finding them and showing them off. We would often roam the river bank behind his neighborhood looking for those little stone triangles, and we found a ton. Going to grandpa's house meant I was coming home with a bounty of colorful rocks and arrowheads, and the prospect always excited me. It wasn't until much later that I found out that he would buy replica arrowheads and pre-shined rocks and scatter them across the riverbank the day before I came to visit. He just wanted to see me smile. As I got older, however, my excitement dwindled. I suffered from the same idea that all teenagers suffer from: the idea of immortality. I let my relationship with my grandfather slip away until I had stopped talking to him entirely. Even though he was such a large part of my childhood, he rarely crossed my adult mind. The idea that, one day, I would never be able to speak to my grandfather again never crossed my mind. Then, one day, while on deployment, I received an email saying that he was on his deathbed, dying from leukemia. He passed shortly after. I never got to say goodbye, and I had to miss his funeral. The news took a heavy toll on me. I regretted every time I didn't call, and every time I didn't visit. I desperately prayed for the opportunity to go back and do it over again. Begged God to let me wander the river bank with him one more time. I would never hear his cheesy jokes, hear his goofy laugh, or see his wide smile ever again. I hated myself for abandoning him like I did. Shortly after my deployment, I visited my mother, who was still struggling with his death. My grandfather was not a wealthy man, and he had few possessions, but to my surprise, i was presented with a box that he left me. Inside was a handwritten letter from him that explained how much he loved me, and that he was sorry we didn't get to spend more time together. It was filled with his cheesy humor, and his trademarked life advice. The box also contained his collection of rare coins and arrowheads. Even after all that time, even after dodging all of his calls and avoiding him for years, all he wanted was to see me smile. The week I returned home, I got this tattoo. I knew I wasn't going to be able to go back and fix the mistakes I made, but I knew I had the power to prevent it from happening again. This tattoo functions as a memorial for my grandfather, and also constantly reminds me that life is sacred, and temporary. It reminds me that anyone can return to the earth at any time, and that it is best to make the most of the time I have with the people I love. I'm never going to let myself forget that again.
By Josh Hungerford5 years ago in Families
moon and back.
It has been 1006 days without you. 1006 days without your laughter, without your advice, without your love here physically in this house. The last 682 days have been the hardest 1006 days of my life. No one ever teaches you about the hard lessons of life, like losing your mother. One day you are asking her how to get your contacts and about pink eye and the next she's gone. I think the one thing that these last 1006 days have taught me is how to be strong, how to love fiercely without asking questions and how to live every day like it might be my last. I had 24 magnificent years with my mom, and a lifetime of memories. But there's a few things I wish I had known before. Everyone is struggling but it’s how we overcome it that matters
By That One Barista5 years ago in Families
Covid Has Changed My Life
I never saw it coming. My life has changed forever. This is a story about a beautiful and very handsome little boy my son Messiah C. Howard also known as Super Messiah. Four years ago we learned that my little man had a generational disease from his mother's side of the family. When Messiah was born we saw nothing of the disease even though his half brother died from it in the year 2005. When Messiah was being diagnose with this disease called Ipex we were told the only thing that could help save him was for him to have a bone marrow transplant this procedure will give him a longer life with out it he could die in his teenage years. So the search began for donors. In the meantime Messiah was put on a food source where he would have to wear a back sack everyday this is where his food supply would be to give him his nutrients day to day. The illness works on your body where you can"t gain weight. This little boy smiled all day everyday. You would have never known that he was ill he was a great little boy and very well liked by many. He was in the first grade at Victory Christian Academy which is located in Metairie a suburb of New Orleans Louisiana. He was a Honor Roll student since he started school he was also a great artist to be only 7 yeras old his art work was submitted into a school art contest but he was hospitilized and didn't make it. His sister was his best friend. Messiah loved his family and friends. We always made time to go to the park to throw the football and play frisbee He taught him self everything about football. He was baptisted right before he was to go into the hospital for the transplant. Months after waiting and hoping for a donor it was time to go back to the drawing board, his doctor wanted to test his sister. It came back she was a 50 percent match finally some great news. Reign was tested once before and found she is carrier of the disease just like her mother Toka Howard. So on March 15 Messiah was admitted in Children's Hospital. Messiah had all kinds of test.. He had to go through Chemo for 4 or 5 days to remove his Immune System to reiceive his new bone marrow from his sister. on the 24 of March he reiceived his transplant we were all there.. It was succesful..from March 24 to April 12 Easter we had so much fun while he was there his Mother stayed with him while I was home with his sister. she was doing online school. We visted Messiah and Toka everyday to bring food and fresh clothing etc. of course we were waiting for his points to go up also with his new Immune System. Messiah was a strong little boy he went through a lot and he never complained about anything .Then right before my birthday April 16 things changed they said he had a fever so he was to go through a series of test. It was determined that he had covid 19. How did he get this covig 19 ? He's been in the hospital. So we were all tested and all test came back negative. Someone up there had it and he caught it. He was still doing ok then his breathing changed so they started giving breathing treatments. Then they put him in a different room to keep down the germs. It started getting intense so they took him to the intensive care unit. Tt was really hard for my little man to indure all the meds and all the equipment. This process wore him down and he was so unhappy. I was up there one day to bring lunch and fresh clothing to Toka and she said Messiah look your daddy is here you want to see him he shook his head no. That head shake is in stitchedin my mind I replay it daily. My baby boy my handsome and very beautiful son died up there it was too much for a seven year old to handle. He passed May 5th. I really thought he was coming home.I would have never thought he wasn't gonna make it home. My daughter Reign is a hero it was a last atempt to save him with some of her white blood cells. Reign went to surgery the day before Messiah passed to help save her brother, But it was to late. Rest In Peace Messiah You Fought A Good Fight This Is Why I Called You Super Messiah..Missed By Everybody That Loved You.
By William Howard5 years ago in Families
Replaceable Children
Fresh snow began to fall forming a light dusting over the dirt packed snow lining the sides of the road. Sitting beside my older brother, Wayne, I press my forehead against the cold window of the school bus and huffed out hot breath, steaming up the window pane and began drawing circles around the flashing street lights.
By Deborah Ranger5 years ago in Families
Last Breath
What did it really mean to die? I don’t know, I don’t really know. But my thoughts wandered all over the place as I bled out on the floor of my garage. I felt a rush of adrenaline as I reached for my phone, trying to grab my phone and dialing 9-1-1.
By Abygael Silvers6 years ago in Families
A Day In My Shoes
A day; only twenty-four hours, which may seem like a lot or a little time, but it gets stretched out even longer as you live that day the way I do. The problem is the way I’ve had to live, the way my mental state has completely corrupted me, making me think things I would have never even thought a second time before my life took a sharp turn down the wrong path. My name is Abella. I’m twenty-one, and I wanted to share my story with anyone willing to listen. I never had much when I was younger, around sixteen in this story. Until I ended up here, telling my tale on the roof of the tallest building in my city. My father was a drunk and my mother constantly leaving work early to protect us, her three children, from him when he got particularly wasted. My younger sister, Nadya was seven at the time. My younger brother Jules was only five. I always did whatever I could to keep them away from my parents when they started fighting, not wanting them to get hurt. Most times, my father would leave late in the day and not return home until around that same time two to three days later. Whenever he’d return, both my parents would get into a fight that usually consisted of my mother screaming at him, questioning about where he’d been and that he needed to get over his alcoholic nature to help her raise their three kids. He would usually sit on the couch, torn and faded fabric with pieces of cotton sticking out from years of neglect, and let her yell. He wouldn’t do anything but continue to drink or smoke, ignoring her every word until she broke down and cried. That’s where we, her kids, would come over and comfort her while my father would get up and leave to whatever part of the house he wanted to go or he would leave the house completely.
By This Is Life In All Its Glory6 years ago in Families
My Rainbow Umbrella
The last time it rained this heavy was the day grandpa died a year ago. On that day, like today, the heavy rain was falling sideways. Today, it was very hard to stay dry even under the covered walkway, and my favorite rainbow-colored umbrella was almost broken and soaked through. I held what was left of my umbrella directly in front of me, instead of above me, because the galvanized roof of the school bus zone was doing some of the work at keeping us dry from above; but, the freezing raindrops stung my exposed ankles like shards of glass. I shivered and zipped my hoodie all the way to my chin and tugged on the strings to tighten the fleece hood around my face. I couldn’t explain why, but I felt this storm carried a sense of warning and I just couldn’t shake my anxiety. The butterflies in my stomach were starting to make me feel queasy and I squeezed my midsection tightly with my free hand.
By Vernillia Burgher6 years ago in Families
