immediate family
Blood makes you related, loyalty makes you family.
Boss Mom is Watching You
“There’s a difference between washing it and getting it clean.” I nearly broke down in tears the first time I felt myself about to use that phrase on somebody. Though he was an unworthy, irritated roommate who had failed to clean the remnants of his last three meals from the stacks of dirty dishes clogging our too small sink, he did not deserve to have that sentence passed on him. Stifling a laugh, or maybe a scream, I departed his company and locked myself in the bathroom to internalize my learned misery. But even there I found no solace. Streaks swam across the mirror’s fogged surface, and spare bits of chin hair remained floating in puddles of water on the counter, the remainder of another roommate’s haphazard attempt to rinse the countertop after shaving. The deluge had failed to take the hair with it as it splashed back into the sink, and dead human cells and moisture sat together in their shared sense of displacement, unable to be put out of their misery. I silenced their screams with a sweep of my hand, sending them tumbling over the edge and down the drain, to blessed peace. Would this never end? Would my roommates ever stop washing and start cleaning?
By Daniel Garvin5 years ago in Families
The lessons I learned from you
The lessons my mom taught me could be viewed as harsh concepts to acquire from a mother. But aren’t we all products of our surroundings at times? My mom reached the lowest point in her life when her brother took his own life. She did not care about report cards anymore from school. She could not get out of bed to cook anymore. She had lost herself entirely in grief. Which is something I boldly understand now. She had met a man that distracted her from the warped reality she was now facing. She started getting out of bed to see him. I was excited thinking maybe the mom I once had so much love for had returned. Until I came home from school weeks later to see nothing, but her bed frame left. My grandma told me that she was sorry. There was nothing that could have said to make her stay. I remember crying in my grandma’s recliner until the fabric was stained. I used to see this as neglect until I realized that this was her way of coping, not to forget about us. Instead, to make it feel like she could forget the depression that left her bound to sleep forever. It was not that I was not enough.
By Julian Rosas5 years ago in Families
Ten Things I Loved About My Husband's Damaged and Difficult Mother
The first thing you should know about my mother-in-law Helen is that she was a battered child. I don't know if this is something anyone can completely overcome, but I know she tried like hell. Trust is essential to building relationships, and Helen found it hard to trust anybody.
By Denise Shelton5 years ago in Families
My Mom
My mom passed away on July 18, 2011. I miss her so much. She was a great mother to me and my siblings. I am the second youngest of seven children. When I was 18 months old, my parents discovered my right hip was dislocated. I had it taken care of at Primary Children’s Hospital in Salt Lake City. I had to wear a cast, and she had to carry me around for four months. That must have been hard for her. I grew up on a farm in a small town called Oxford, Idaho. We had several cows, raised chickens, pigs, rabbits, had several cats and dogs as pets. I am thankful that she was a hard worker on our farm and in the jobs she had. She worked at the livestock auction in Preston, Idaho for several years. She also worked at DelMonte in Franklin, Idaho for several years where they canned beans and cabbage. She taught me the value of hard work. She worked hard on our farm canning things like corn, peaches, pears and applesauce. We had many fruit trees in our yard: apples, pears, plums, and cherry. She made plum jelly, raspberry, and strawberry jam. Her and my dad bought the raspberries and strawberries. She worked hard helping my dad milk the cows. She always kept a great garden. My parents planted potatoes, corn, beans, peas, and tomatoes. I enjoyed picking peas and podding them, also helping to shuck the corn. I helped my parents plant potatoes too. She worked hard doing the laundry using a ringer washer and hanging the clothes up to dry. In the winter she hung as many clothes as she could in our house. I enjoyed helping do the laundry. She gave us hot water bottles to warm our feet. When we had a sore throat, she gave us an alcohol rag to wear around our necks. She made jello water when we had an upset stomach. My parents always took turns keeping the fire going in the winter in our wood burning stove.
By Darla M Seely5 years ago in Families
Queen Mother
My Mother was a sick person. It's true. She struggled with so many things. What they are doesn't really matter in this context. Suffice to say they were physical and mental. But never did she question who she was or what she felt her purpose was. My Mother was the color yellow. All things bright and beautiful. She struggled greatly. She conquered things most of us can never imagine, nor would we want to. She survived things that should have killed her, time and time again. Our family actually stopped counting the things she overcame, then survived. Over the span of more than 24+ years of her being ill, she showed us, her 7 children, many grandchildren and great grandchildren, loved ones, my Father, what strength is. She showed us how to not stay in the trenches. How to keep fighting. Never give up. She showed us how to be a light during the storm. She wasn't perfect. She knew it. The one thing she was is determined. None of us 7 kids wanted to learn what she had to teach us….what she insisted on teaching us. 5 girls, 2 boys, and we ALL learned how to cook, clean, basic sewing skills, ironing and physical grooming. As well as social skills needed in the world. All of it, with 7 kids. Now that we all have children, we can grasp what an enormous task that was. I have 1 kid and it seems impossible! She was absolutely determined to be happy despite pain most of us can't imagine. Determined to be joyful even when she was scared. Determined to teach her children everything they needed to know to be good humans. Determined to teach us how to live without her on this earth. For we all knew for so many years that her days were numbered. The gift was that we got so many more days than we imagined we would. In a turn of events we never could have predicted, her final battle came in the midst of Covid-19. With family spread out and quarantined, the first half of 2020 was mostly spent in a bubble with my Father, me, my teenage daughter and my sister in law so much of that time is a complete blur. Missing so much work, both from Covid and to be there to care for her. Missing so much money, lost from not working. At the time, I had no idea just how much work I missed. Funny thing is, I wouldn't change a thing. My siblings couldn't be there. We all knew it. It was torture for them. So I was there for all of them. Zooming even though she was in a coma, just so they could see her. Kissing her goodbye for my huge family...individually... singing, just being together in the only way we could. Watching her slowly fade. No funeral, no celebration of life. Somehow she was a light to the end. She is still a light. One that will never be extinguished. After her passing, it took a couple of weeks to be able to explain what I was feeling about not having her be with us anymore. I realized that the world was so silent now. She was such a presence, such a gift. If she was in the building, you knew it. When she left, the silence was so loud. So loud. It's been just over a year and it is still loud. Now our family tries our best to continue her legacy by teaching our children the way she taught us. We try and be a light, the way she was. When someone is that influential, the loss is great and the only thing you can do is do your very best to carry their legacy forward.
By Mary Queen5 years ago in Families
Closure
I have a non-traditional relationship with my mother, but not necessarily one that isn't familiar to a lot of people. When I was about a year and a half old, my mother signed her parental rights over to my maternal grandmother. This was done for a multitude of reasons, but primarily because my mother was incapable of raising me due to mental short falls caused by some incidents when she was a teenager. For a long time, I resented my mom because she gave me up but continued to go through custody battles for my younger half-siblings for years. My family would always tell me that she signed her parental rights away because she knew she was fit enough to be a good parent, and I understood that to a point. As I continued to watch from the sidelines as she was involved with my sister and brother, I grew a bit spiteful.
By Courtney Seever5 years ago in Families
Boss Moms
Mother, Mama, Mommy, Mom, Madre, Ma these are all words used to describe a significant force in our lives. Step- moms, adoptive moms, foster moms, bonus moms are all important as well. Mothers are strong, capable and usually the backbone of the family, they help when we need them, they support us and are our number one fans. Some people grow up with one influential boss mom, I grew up with many. Three in particular that helped mold me into who I am with lessons they taught me.
By Rebecca Hackney5 years ago in Families
Dear Ivy
In 1997, I was born on a stormy Friday the 13th to my mother, Ivy, short for Yvelisse. She taught me how to read and write at three years old, constantly encouraging me to ask questions and seek answers. A child with an insatiable curiosity, I absorbed every bit of knowledge that she offered me, sometimes filing it away for a time where I would later understand it. Most of my early childhood memories are comprised of my mom and I, coloring, playing computer games, reading, writing, and having morning tea over her intricate Japanese tea set. I began to develop a deep appreciation for quality time with the people I love, the budding of an expectation for quality conversations and good company.
By Sophia Carlson5 years ago in Families
Resilience
No matter what a mother is going through we always seem to manage to push through the storm to reach the sunshine. Not saying that it is easy, and the storm can be rough at times, so rough that you think you may not survive but we push and push and eventually make it through.
By Totfish’s Tales5 years ago in Families
The Unsung Hero
When I was in first grade, I wasn't paying attention one day and I slammed my pointer finger into a locker door at school. From what I can recall, there was a lot of blood and I screamed so loudly that most of the school came out of their classrooms to see what had happened. I was in a place very foreign to me as a child; my family had been recently stationed in Minnesota and it was unfamiliar territory from the life I was accustomed to in Virginia. In that moment, I was terrified. I knew only my parents in that time and place, and I was alone and almost completely without the top 1/3 of my finger.
By Courtney Bryn5 years ago in Families
