Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
The Day My World Was Shattered
“Sorry for your loss…” I’ve always hated when people say that crap at funerals. Of course you’re sorry, someone just died. I mean what is that? As if I didn’t already feel terrible and unhappy for the death of the most important person in my life. I don’t mean to be rude, and of course I accept every stupid “sorry” from people who want to express their sympathy for my family and me, but Jesus Christ it just makes me feel worse. Sorry, I don’t exactly know how to deal with grief. I’m working on it, okay?
A First Time for Everything
He was big, burly and heavy on his feet, like an iron shield guarding our family. The strongest person I know, he towers over most. Being brawly and intimidating to people who don’t know him, he has a stern frown and a soft smile, a deep farmer's tan from the hours he spends cutting wood and doing yard work but meticulously ironed grey suit pants and straight Brooks Brothers dress shirts and jackets. He has hammers and nails, saws and screwdrivers, wrenches, and hatchets, but works with people and computers. He casually coaches us from lacrosse to hockey and all in between, but methodically constructs cultured sentences presented to important people every day. He helps with seventh grade math, but works with pie charts and statistics that are puzzling to others. His presence brings safety and protection like having a military squad protecting your family.
Clare WoodfordPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesThe Sh*t They Don't Tell You: Lesson #5
Losing Your Shit. You're standing there, telling yourself that if you hear "Mommy!" one more time today, you're going to explode. You're crying on the bathroom toilet with a Snickers bar hanging halfway out of your mouth, knowing that if you hear one more request to watch that damned Paw Patrol episode, you're going to have yourself a conniption. You're rushing everybody out the door only to find your three-year-old standing in the room butt naked (but at least she has shoes on!) and YOU LOSE YOUR SHIT.
Tiffany WadePublished 7 years ago in FamiliesLearning for the Future
A few days had strung together consisting of our three-year-old, Ellis, becoming what I like to refer to as a demon child. For some reason, this demon seems to appear as soon as I get home from work. I understand that it's the end of the day and she is tired, which definitely has a huge control over any kid's behavior. What I began to realize, however, is the way it can control my own behavior. It instantly puts me in a bad mood, frustrated from being at work all day, driving in traffic, excited to see the wife and kids, yet having to now deal with her attitude. It's my own attitude that has led me down the path of spending my evening hours correcting her behavior and putting her on timeouts or threatening that some toy would be taken away. There's no way to reason with a pissed off toddler, no matter how calm you are as a dad, especially when they are just as stubborn and strong-willed as you are.
Jeffrey EngelagePublished 7 years ago in FamiliesBlue Jay
The road to the Children's Hospital in Sioux Falls, South Dakota seemed like it went on for an eternity. I was four, and I could not grasp the significance of what was happening. Although I do not remember everything, I know it was the end of 2002 or the beginning of 2003. The adults would only tell me that Jay was sick, so I did not understand why this was such a big deal to everyone. The hospital was tremendous and was filled with many different rooms. The ceilings towered high above me. Years later, it felt strange going back to the Children's Hospital and realizing how small it actually is. That day, we were going to visit my 10-year-old cousin.
Almárëa LaurësilPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesMy Other Baby
I went out to the local bar on my 20th birthday, I had a feeling that I was pregnant. But with only doing the baby making deed on days that I was not ovulating, I thought it was near impossible of actually happening.
Annie ButtonPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesThe Day I Realized It’s Okay to Let People Go
Family, what a daunting word. What a weighted word… Some people out there have the best families. Everyone seems to get along all the time (key word in that sentence: SEEMS), have amazing family vacations and no arguments ever seem to arise. Ever wonder if that’s what really happens behind closed doors? I do. All the time. Being that happy with your family isn’t normal (haha).
Anik MarchandPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesLight
September 3, 2017 The Initiative. July 24, 1987 I had turned 9 nearly two months prior and as I held a balloon that my mom had given me earlier that day during the parade, I sat on the side of the hill at Liberty Park awaiting the fireworks that were scheduled to start in the next few minutes.
Wendy FinauPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesWhat It Is Like Having a Gay Activist Uncle
My uncle is my inspiration for being a part of the LGBTQ community because he conducts himself with dignity, and if he knows you feel a certain way about a subject, he discusses it with you instead of tensing up and getting defensive. He is what I aspire to be daily when I try to have conversation with someone. He currently is in and out of Ireland conducting research and trying to promote the LGBTQ community as best as he can.
May BainterPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesThe Second Time Around
Leonard poured his coffee into the old, cracked mug his son had made him, slow and steady as the hot steam fogged his glasses. He could hear the pitter-patter of the rain against his kitchen window – slow and steady. He carefully lifted the warm mug to his dry, leather lips. Leonard was turning seventy in three days. Three days and he would be over the hill, or was it under the hill? He scratched his head and took another sip of coffee. Most days he loved to hear the sound of the rain bouncing off the windowpane, but not today. Today he felt angry and tired, more tired than usual. He gently lifted himself from the kitchen table and shuffled over to the phone. For a second, he thought about calling his son. Then, for another second longer, he thought about calling his doctor. He took a deep breath in and then out. He knew neither call would make him feel any better. But still he picked up the phone, listening to the dial tone hum and hum until he couldn’t take the humming anymore. He hung up the receiver and promised himself, out loud, that tomorrow he would call his son, Victor. Tomorrow they would talk just like old times and tomorrow, maybe, Victor wouldn’t hate him anymore.
Camille LeZottePublished 7 years ago in FamiliesDaddy, How Do People Get Made?
As I’m getting set up for a living room work out, I ask my daughter, “Hey, you want to work out with Daddy?” She looks up, and as she jams a cheeto into her mouth, says, “As soon as I’m done filling up my muscles.”
A Grieving Sister’s Heartache
The day of the accident.. This is for you Dylan.. The sun is shining, the skies are blue. But all I ask god, is why it had to be you. This day will be the hardest ever. Knowing that you're gone forever. Not from my heart, but from my sight. How can my life ever feel right?