family
Family unites us; but it's also a challenge. All about fighting to stay together, and loving every moment of it.
Brother, My Brother...
April 15th 2005 my life changed forever. 15 years later I am still not the same person. Now I have some questions that I want to hurl at the world? Have you ever lost a sibling? What would it do to your life ? How would you cope if you thought you were responsible for this person's death? What if someone tried to make you harm this person? How would you feel? Keep these 4 questions in mind because I am about to take you on a journey that will blow your mind.
By Stephanie Kitchens5 years ago in Humans
Trifecta of Thrift Treasures
I was not really exposed to thrift stores until I was in university and we were looking for costume ideas for Halloween. The first time I walked into the Value Village downtown with my friends, I paused with the sheer size of it. Inside, there was a buzz. They instantly fell into the flow and groove of the store. Crowded and many people on the same mission in October, knowing this was the treasure trove of finds.
By Sara Christine5 years ago in Humans
Maximus
I woke up to the scent of fresh gingerbread cookies. As I opened my eyes I remembered the sadness that had consumed me recently and it settled back into my personal space after the relief of no-conscious-thought-slumber. I thought I might have even woken up FROM the cookie smell - the intensity called me from my dream world. I blinked a few times, sending sparks of hope out into the world, believing that, somehow, today would be a better day. I rolled over and looked at the time on my cell phone. 8:23. I sighed. “Too early,” I thought. I put my phone down quickly before the aching pang of social media curiosity drew me in. I lay in bed looking at the ceiling. “Knock knock...” It was the gingerbread fragrance calling me to the kitchen. I sat up slowly and proceeded to the on-suite bathroom in the guest bedroom I was occupying. I played some soothing Michael Buble’ while I showered and finally settled on wearing a black Christmas jumper with a bright white snowman in the center, black jeans and white sneakers. I walked slowly down the stairs towards the kitchen area. My mom was leaning over the stove, preparing all kinds of wonderful Christmas treats, my dad was sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. A sight for sore eyes. That he still appreciated the art of ink and paper, extravagant advertising and local information made him a priceless antique in my eyes. He sipped on his hot coffee. My sister, 2 years younger than me, was also sitting at the table. There were laid out newspapers and 3 small jars of paint. She was focusing intently as she put color to a small clay figurine of a fairy. She dipped her paintbrush in a glass of water.
By Nadia Iris5 years ago in Humans
I Left My Love in Catalina
The ferry ride to Catalina Island was rocky as I kept the urn close to my chest. The heavy metal containing my mother's ashes was a pretty thing with swirls of blue and silver and white, mimicking the tides of the ocean and the seagulls that flew above. It was the last gift I had been able to give her; her mind had fled from her so fast over the past few years that any presents had only delighted her in the moment, more because of the novelty than the actual items themselves. A shame, really: she had been such a collector before the dementia had set in and robbed her of her golden years.
By Jillian Spiridon5 years ago in Humans
Letters From a Locker
My father used to say that if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. Sometimes it felt as though I’d ridden a thousand miles worth of wishes. I wondered so many things about my family, but my uncle, the only person left to tell me anything, lay in a hospice bed at home. Thankfully, he received my letter before his heart valves gave out, letting him know how much I loved him. Covid prevented me from visiting, and my uncle hadn’t communicated for years. I remained the only descendant of my grandparents and my uncle had no children. My aunt and I began the daunting task of clearing out the storage locker every Saturday for a month and a half.
By Cynthia Mael5 years ago in Humans
Fleeing the nest during Covid
When the UK lockdown hit back in March 2020 I panicked. A lot. I love my family to pieces but being around them so much was a huge trigger for my anxiety so when I found out that I would be under house arrest with them for good I didn’t react too well. I moved out. At the time I had been with my boyfriend for two months and was staying over almost every night, we were best friends and when the news of us being apart and him losing his job and part of his income that would have been his rent came up we decided that I would just move in.
By Melissa Watson 5 years ago in Humans
Music and Merlot
Nora: Through most of this life, I have walked alone, even when surrounded by trusted allies and people who love me. Throughout, the elements have provided, but at a cost. It is not always a burden, nor does it come without a freedom, despite the balancing burden of responsibility. Ah, but I accept that the places I have been and the things I have done have brought me more satisfaction than I expected, despite the agonising losses. I have honed my gifts and my strength and found myself sure and firm in my own grounded feet. But Andrew O’Bannion was an unexpected gift, a boon that I had thought was lost long ago. I had expected a casual interlude. I received life’s ultimate gift: the return of my heart and soul.
By Nancy Forrest5 years ago in Humans
Saying Goodbye To My Mother
My mother died just over two weeks ago. She was 95-years-old, and while I knew she was near the end of her life, it still came as a shock to learn she’d had a massive stroke. Earlier in the day, I’d spent an hour with her in the garden of her care home. We’d marvelled at the birds and counted all the spring flowers that were popping up under the almost-blossoming cherry and plum trees. It had been a lovely visit — one of the most enjoyable we’d shared in months — and after I’d kissed her goodbye and started the twenty-minute drive home, I’d felt myself relax. Mom, it would seem, was settling in.
By Carol Anne Shaw5 years ago in Humans
