siblings

Siblings are the only enemy you can't live without.

The Back
It’s strange to think about how different life was back in 2006. For me, it seems like an entirely different life altogether. I was eight years old, my sister would have been ten, and my younger brother, Daniel, was barely two. We’d often spend our days running amuck on the seventy-two-acre property. There was an abundance of opportunities for summer swimming activities in the creeks which weaved through the property. But on the rare days we weren’t outside, we would find things to entertain ourselves with indoors.
By J. R. Lowe4 years ago in Families
In the Doghouse
I was maybe five, with two older brothers and a couple of sisters as well. Another large family lived nearby. The kid my age in their family was a boy.
By Kim Mitchell4 years ago in Families
Funny Times With My Brother
Caption: An image of me. I would post one of my brother and I but there aren’t any good ones, plus my brother doesn’t go outside 🤣 and also for privacy reasons.
By Rika Lekay4 years ago in Families
The other one
You said I don't understand. You said I will never get it. But I do. Life got hard. Really awful. We both lost our dad on Christmas Day from a heart attack. Mama checked out. I do get it. But, you choose drugs, and the drugs chose you.
By Mandy Price4 years ago in Families
A Job That Never Ends. Top Story - September 2021.
One year. Nine months. That's how long I was an only child. I have no recollection of this time, only after. After I became a sister.
By M.J. Carlock4 years ago in Families
Cooking Fool
A swirling ring of smoke making its way to the ceiling could only mean one thing. My mom was working late, and my older sister Tasha was in the kitchen standing in front of the stove, feverishly stirring, baking, or frying away the smell, taste, and look of what would be our dinner.
By Robbie Vaughn4 years ago in Families
Sunday
Each day of the winter holidays was cold and lifeless – Sunday proved no different. Yasmin Ali, a 13-year-old refugee, rose at seven to tend to the family vegetable garden. She grabbed her rubber boots, chalky with dried mud the previous weekend, from the family shoe cupboard. She swept her hijab over her hair, rough fingers catching on rougher material, and held it in place with a salvaged pin. She wore a two-year-old puffer coat from the local charity shop. It was black, timeless and like her mother had told her, kept her warm in the harsh Scottish wind. She cut a slim, shaky figure with a top-heavy look; it seemed impossible that her legs would hold all that weight.
By H. S. Oss4 years ago in Families
The Tryout
Baseball was life back then. I played every day in every spare moment I had. I always had a glove and ball with me and can remember my mom making me remove them from the dinner table almost every evening.
By roy Slezak4 years ago in Families
Glowing Green
It was a beautiful June evening. Theodore and Oliver finished their slices of chocolate cake after supper and asked Grandpa to tell them the story about the bull at the fair again.
By Thomas Durbin5 years ago in Families
Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls
“Why isn’t he calling back?!” Something about frantic words coming out of a tiny child’s mouth has always bothered me but there was no time for worry, I was definitely dying and what would worry do?
By Nichole Martin5 years ago in Families
Golden Summer
The sun was shining. The yellow flowers in the field reverently bowed and swayed to acknowledge the passing breeze while the sun’s rays generously bestowed their warmth to all below. However, none of that warmth reached Iola. In her heart was only the cruel frigidity of betrayal.
By Kara Hughes5 years ago in Families
She Loves To Sing!
Some of my earliest memories are of my Dad playing his guitar. Every time we would have company, they would beg him to get out his guitar, and he would gladly oblige them. That is where my love of music and singing came from. I wasn’t even five years old when I started singing along with my dad. He would play the chords and I would chime in on the chorus. Before I hit Preschool, I could pick up a song after hearing it only once. My dad would sing the lead and I, the harmony. My dad’s repertoire included all the old Country Classics from Hank Williams, Willie Nelson, Hank Snow, Roy Acuff and everyone on up the line. I loved them all, including Tammy Wynette, Loretta Lynn, Patsy Cline, Brenda Lee and Dolly Parton. I sang everywhere I went. By the time I was in fourth grade, I could hit notes only a dog could hear and had a vibrato to rival any professional. I loved Music class! The Spring and Christmas concerts were the highlight of my year. My Mom said she could always pick out my voice from all the rest.
By MELISSA E. PROPER5 years ago in Families