Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
Rooted
“Oh! You came!” a soft voice greets me as I walk inside my dad’s house. I hadn’t been home in years, let alone kept in touch with him. Coming back here was never an option for me. I had even stopped answering when he called. As a result he treated my voicemail as if it was his diary with requests to call him back.
By Kofi Houston3 years ago in Families
An Unimaginable Gift
“Are you ever going to open this thing? It’s been sitting here for months.” “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s in it, I might not want to know.” Carissa took the black leather-bound Moleskine from its spot on the desk, where it had been since her mother brought the small collection of her grandfather’s belongings that were marked for her. That had been nearly 8 months ago now, and almost a year had gone by since his passing. “Besides, what if Grampa didn’t want me to see it? It looks like some kind of journal. Maybe it’s private.”
By Erin Sitler3 years ago in Families
Water of Life
I have been on this all my life and again last night, I fell asleep dreaming about its wonderfulness and when I woke up, my skinny arm stretched to reach the glass of water. I am here, naked in the depth of this old apartment as it became quite cold on Atlantic Avenue.
By Alice K.S.3 years ago in Families
Little Black Book
I felt the same way they did. Looking for the answers to the same problems, but I was not traveling to three countries in three months or hiking the Pacific Crest Trail to find answers. I had a family to care for and a job that made it possible. So what about the rest of us that feel lost or stuck without time off to adventure away?
By Marion Ray3 years ago in Families
The Truth About Grandpa Eddie
The only thing that shocked Clare more when she learned about the passing of her beloved grandfather was being informed that he chose to leave her his Toronto bungalow. Along with the house came an abundance of accumulated boxes occupying nearly the entirety of the basement floor. Despite some hostility from his four other grandchildren, the legality of the situation deemed any objections futile, while Clare’s frequent phone calls and visits with one of her favourite people was proof that she had occupied a special place in his heart.
By Lauren Malton3 years ago in Families
Are You Ready to Go From Anonymous to Ally?
--- Becoming an LGBTQ ally is the best way to keep your family together without losing who you are. For many families, when a beloved family member shares their true sexual identity with you, the result hits some of us like a locomotive.
By Teresa Kuhl3 years ago in Families
The Dreamer
In the dry south of Italy, in a small town in Calabria, a small boy with dark curly hair skips along the stone path, painting each stone a different color as his foot touches it. The sidewalk comes alive as he travels down the path to the bakery. The baker leans out of the window, waving vigorously to the boy and he waves back. He gives the baker three euros in exchange for a fresh loaf of bread to bring his family.
By Madison Tyler3 years ago in Families
Poor people need luck, Rich people have Faith
Life is a chess game, and money is funny. It seems we work really hard day in, and day out just to have little things like nourishment, shelter, and God forbid a little entertainment. Sitting in class right next to people that come from money, who don’t worry about jobs, or test grades, or after school jobs, after graduation, they’re out going right to work at their families business. Who could be mad? Though sometimes you tend to look at yourself in comparison. Ironically the subject in today’s class was money management. Today was Friday, and I was ready for today to be over. I loved this class, I think it was because I truly enjoyed my professor Mr. Koové. He was brilliant, down to earth and witty. He stood maybe 5’10, dark hair that was beginning to grey from the cause of stress, but old age. He wore designer frames around his bifocals, which definitely gave him an edge, and you can tell he used to be an athlete because of his build. He stood up really straight with a presence that was felt, but not intimidating. His voice boomed, rather it was excitement, passion, or confidence it made people around him take notice. His energy radiated comfort, which made anyone around him feel invited. When I become a full fledged thriving adult,I want to be described the same way as Mr. Koové. “Tenacity!” I heard my name screamed at me by tiny voices, “Here!” I blurted, almost as a reflex. Mr. Koové looked at me and chuckled, “we are not doing role call, I asked you what are some things that could bring wealth to a poor person?” I rolled my eyes, “If I knew the answer to that, Mr. Koové I wouldn’t be sitting here with holes in the bottom of my shoes.” The class roared with laughter, but the statement almost brought tears to my eyes. From the look on the teachers face, I could see he was on the brig of tears too. He raised his hand, as to bring the class back to attention, the banter stopped immediately. Still focused on me “I’m sorry Tenacity I didn’t mean that to mock you...” Before he could finish his sentence Brittany, who sat right beside me cut him off “Mr. Koové, why don’t you ask someone who already has money that question. Like if you would have asked me, I would have said investments. She fluttered her long 28mm mink lash extensions at me, I’m sure it was because she was pleased with herself. You could smell her Marc Jacobs Daisy perfume all around her, like it has become part of her dna. I only knew the name because she made sure everyone understood that it was her ‘Signature Scent.’ Unlike me who had to make the two bottles of her bath and bodyworks body spray last until I could afford more. The smell of my body spray didn’t last till lunch. She only wore clothes that came from Pink, or lulu, like she was ready for yoga at any second. She called her jewelry pieces, so you understood that they were real without her having to make it obvious that she was bragging. She carried a matching Louis Vuitton backpack and purse to class. She parked right outside of the building in a red Gwagon that she bragged about being surprised with, just for making through the first semester here. We did not get along if it wasn’t obvious. She always made it a point to humiliate me, always giving me a reason to despise her. I finally looked away from Her back to the front of the class. Then the bell rings, and for some reason I let out a long exhale, as if I was holding my breath. “Tenacity?” I rolled my eyes, hearing my name being said in that manner means charity was coming in the next sentence and I hated charity. Being a senior in college with nothing but debt means you learn to accept a bunch of charity though. “Yes sir?” I turned slowly to meet his gaze. I have a book for you, I really hope you read it. It’s called ‘Poor people need luck, Rich people have faith.’” The title made me smirk, “I guess it’s easier to have faith when a good thing like money is at your disposal.” He chuckled and said “sometimes it’s right in the palms of our hands, and we don’t even know it.” He dropped the little black book in my hand, and walked back to his desk. “I will not be here, after Tuesday, so I suggest you read it by then, or not.” He sat back in his big black leather chair, looking really pleased with himself. Knowing Mr. Koové, I knew there was something hidden in that remark that I would catch later, but I had too many things to over analyze to let a simple remark be my priority.
By Tristyn Janai3 years ago in Families
No Ordinary Day
I always thought my brother Eric’s interests were an odd pair: stargazing and architecture. But he always said, “astronomy is the architecture of the universe.” And architecture was the closest that mankind would ever come to building anything as captivating as the night sky. “The beauty of manmade structures pales in comparison to what we can find in the sky,” he would say, “but the products of human intelligence and human creativity are nonetheless inspiring in their own right.” He had never said anything so pretentious as a teenager; I think he took a course in philosophy or creative writing in college because that was around the time he started talking like that. He attended the University of Michigan College of Architecture. There were a number of architecture programs he had been considering, but he won a $20,000 scholarship for Michigan. Besides, he explained, “Michigan has a great astronomy program too, so maybe I can take some of their classes as electives.”
By Benjamin Royal3 years ago in Families
Special Item
It cannot be real. It cannot be real that she is gone. Sitting in the lawyer’s office today was not real. There is no way that a such a radiant woman who has been a part of my whole life is just gone. How do I go about the rest of my life without being able to talk to her? Granny has always been there when I have needed advice, tough love, or a laugh. All I have left of her is the house she lived in and this little black notebook that she used to carry around. Since the lawyer handed this warn book to me, I have felt the weight of impending reality. People talk about grief as this thing that takes over your life. Those who have dealt with grief know that it is a hidden code word. The code word that encompasses how much it hurts to miss someone.
By Bridgette Colton3 years ago in Families
There Was Something Inside
At our wit’s end, my roommate Candice and I decided that we had to take a chance on not getting COVID-19 and go on a trip. A trip to ease our minds and get us back to some kind of normalcy. We worked at a steakhouse that like so many other restaurants was closed due to the Covid-19 pandemic. Now six months into the pandemic it was time for a break. We decided to take a trip to Precious, Mexico. A small, quaint secluded little village that we read about in The National Museum Magazine. The flight over was Lourd, bumpy and scary. When the plan finally hit the runway, I said an extra prayer of thanks. After going through all of that we still had to rough it another 36 miles by bus to our journey’s end, however it was well worth it. It was everything we ever dreamed of, beautiful people, peaceful, calm and quiet...but most of all a chance to get away from all of the COVID news with no tv service. Our plan was simple for seven days on this beautiful island we would explore the entire community one day at a time. We embraced each day with vigor and enthusiasm. The first few days blew by like a tumbleweed. With only a couple of days left we decided to slow down and really take in the sights. This beautiful morning our walk would take us by the only church in the village. I thought to myself the people must all get alone really well to belong to the same church. The church was very old and it looked a bit wobbly but upon touching the wood it felt like the rock of Gibraltar. It had a magical Ora about it that invited you to go inside. We kept trekking down the beautiful brick lined street until we ended up at an open air market. There was all kinds of handmade and homemade treasures. We stopped at a handmade jewelry booth...the beads were very colorful and for some strange reason they made me think of the church. I became fixed on wanting to go back to the church... I kept thinking someone was inside. I told Candice I would be back. I turned around and walked back towards the church. She asked where I was going? I didn’t answer I just kept walking. I had to see inside the church. As I climbed the steps I was hesitant but I slowly pushed on the door and it began to open. At that moment I could feel Candice’s hot breath on my back. I pushed the door open wide enough to stick my head in and Candice stuck her head under my arm. We saw a young couple weeping. I thought maybe they were having marital problems and needed the church’s help. A few minutes passed and they walked over to the alter. There was a large black book, a bible I thought on the pedestal in front of them; they lifted the top and I noticed small gold hinges at both ends. A casket I whispered, I could hear Candice gasp as we slowly backed out of the door. We didn’t speak, we quietly walked away. We were walking slower now and it wasn’t our usual chitter-chatter. It felt like we were quietly mourning with the couple from the church. Trying to walk off our sorrow, we lost all track of time and ended up on a stretch of beach that looked abandoned. The waves were rough yet calming and the suns rays warmed our aching hearts like a soaring barn fire. In between our stops I caught a glimpse of something in the water. I asked Candice if she saw something and before I knew it she had jumped in the water. I was terrified for her because I could not swim. I knew if she got in trouble I could not help her. I began screaming her name in horror. A large wave came in and covered her entire body. By now I was crying hysterically... I though I had lost her. When the waves went back out I could see her coming towards me. Feeling a bit of courage I ran out to meet her. I noticed a blue metal box in her hand...”it’s heavy help me” she said. I grabbed one end of the box and we got it ashore. After a brief rest we hauled the box back to our room. Our next ordeal was getting the box open, it had a lock on the front and back. After trying everything we could think of I decided to go to the office and borrow a hammer...they looked at me strange but they gave it to me. It took some hitting and knocking but after forty minutes we finally got it open. To our disbelief there was no water in the box...it was airtight. A large set of keys was on top, a letter that said to be opened by my wife Mrs. Bertha Harris, a small black book and a bunch of fishing bait. The black book was the key to everything. On the first page it read: This book belong to Lee Marshall Harris the date is September 20, 2017 and if you are reading this you have found my last communication on this earth. The book went on to say that he wanted everything in the box to be returned to his wife Bertha Harris.
By Lisa T. McMillan3 years ago in Families