Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
Dear Dad
From a young age little girls are told that their dads are their first loves. It is a connection that we are told no one will be able to replicate. But what happens when that same man who we believe will love us forever breaks our heart before any other man has the chance to? I am one of those girls.
By Baylie Cole9 years ago in Families
A Change in Heart
When you're a young girl, you dream of the fairy tale life and growing up to see your prince charming. It's not the reality of life that comes to your mind as a child, but the dream and the notion that things will turn out to be alright—or at least that's what I thought. At the age of 16, I was raped and the scare still haunts me to this day. I didn't know, one year after, that my past was going to come back and do it again. When I was 17 going on 18, I got pregnant from my attacker. At the time, I was living with one of my older siblings and I did know how I was going to explain to her about the little innocent angel I was carrying. I wasn't sure to keep the child or not, but everything in me said to keep it. Not many women would keep anything, no matter what it may be, that will remind them of the horror and violation they have endured. Instead, they either give it away for adoption or have an abortion. By making this decision, I mustered the courage to notify my sister. With one quick yell and a scream, she told me to get out of her house. Alone and pregnant, I decided to go to my other sister's house. With no hesitation, she took me in and I stayed with her, but that came out to be jumping into the frying pan, but missing it and jumping into the fire. Although my sister was loving and caring enough to take us in, she was dealing with her own issues that caused her children to be taken away.
By Monique Dantzler9 years ago in Families
It’s Not Goodbye; It’s See You Soon
It was mid-July and the intense summer heat was in full effect. We were on our way to go camping in Vermont, my mother’s side had already gotten the camper set up right on Lake Bomoseen. It was supposed to be an amazing way to spend part of summer break, but with one phone call that all changed.
By Kyleigh Keovilay9 years ago in Families
Even Miracles Take a Little Time
We all know the rhyme. So why is it that I'm yet to finish? Welcome to my bare all story of trying to conceive. So a bit about me. I'm 27 and recently married to the love of my life. I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts—I fancied a guy four years my senior and he didn't know who I was until I was 18—a modern day fairy tale! Years later, we met again in a local supermarket and I fell into total and complete love. I've never known anything like it. It's the most natural high you can experience and let me assure you, you never want it to end!
By Hannah Mulcahey9 years ago in Families
Through Dad's Eyes
This is the journal of a dying man. My kids won't know everything from my life. They're barely old enough to realize daddy is sick. I sit in this room in the back of my mother's house at 33-years-old and I am facing a hole in the ground that is about six feet deep. Part of me wants to just jump in and escape the pain I'm in. Part of me wants to rewind the time, undo the things I did that will take me away from the lives I created. Were the times I had getting myself into this mess really worth the price that they'll pay without me here; were they worth the price I'm paying now? Every day I wake up to pill after pill and another day of doctors and IVs just to get through. Maybe I'll be here for the next birthday, or the next holiday. Maybe... Maybe not. At this point in my life, that shouldn't be a question. The reality of it is—my reality anyway—is every day, every hour, minute, second, every breath is a question. I can only hope and pray at this point. "Give me one more, God, please just one more. I want to see my daughters playing in the park just one more time. I just want one more kiss goodnight. I want to get to read one more bed time story. I don't want to go now, God, please let me hang on for a while longer. At least until they know me."
By Jade Grayson9 years ago in Families
Boys, Boys, Boys
I have not one, not two, but THREE smelly boys. They range in age from: 15, which translates to eating every minute of the day, body odor, a constant boner, very long showers, his phone is now a growth on his hand, and my aversion to EVER stepping foot in his bedroom again.
By Jennifer Terrell9 years ago in Families
My HG Pregnancy
I have Hyperemesis Gravidarum, which is also known as HG. HG is rare and happens during pregnancy. It is defined as excessive vomiting during pregnancy, which causes dehydration and weight loss. HG also comes with extreme nausea which makes eating almost impossible when it's at its peaks. I was diagnosed at about 10 weeks.
By Alisha Miller9 years ago in Families
The Seven Stages of Grief
The Seven Stages of Grief When my father passed away in 2015, it was a rough time in general. He had cancer in his lungs, esophagus and a tumor pressing on his brain, impairing his speech. It was hard because neither my brothers nor I had ever dealt with a death in the immediate family like this before. Thankfully, he already planned everything out ahead of time. I often wonder if I grieved in the appropriate manner. I’m still not sure if I did, or I just did it my own way. I was told by many people that it would eventually hit me, and hit me hard. Maybe it did subconsciously, because I never felt like it did. I decided to look into the seven stages of grief and give my outlook on them from my experiences.
By James Howell9 years ago in Families
A One Parent Child
They say there are two sides to every story but this is from a child’s view, a third side to this story. I have never grown up with any sort of male influence in my life. It’s always been me, my mom, and my little brother. I don’t know who my father is. I have nothing. Not for want of trying, but because no one is willing to listen to the cries of a broken heart. A void sits in my heart and has done for 27 years. I never really thought about having two parents when I was very small but then I listened to the other children in my classes and that’s when it hit me, I only have one parent. The other children would get excited to go on picnics or go to the beach with their mommies and daddies. I got excited if my mother would watch Saturday morning cartoons with my brother and I. I began to ask questions but my mother always shut me down, as a child I should be seen and not heard. When I was just 10 years old my mother admitted that my brother and I do not share a father, making us step brother/sister. Naturally I began telling people that we were not real siblings, to which I was repeatedly told off for. The world was already confusing me. The other children in my classes couldn’t understand why every Father’s Day I drew my mother a card. I didn’t want to be left out of all the fun, doing arts and crafts. As I progressed into high school my interest in my father dwindled as my studies and home life took up all of my time. I began asking questions again at the age of 14. This is when I was assigned a counsel lot in school and diagnosed with reactive depression and social anxiety. By 16 I was diagnosed with chronic depression and severe anxiety. My days were spent in darkness. I was bullied in school due to an undiagnosable skin condition I have on my face. Home life was no picnic either, the neighbors making comments about the amount of chores I was forced to do compared to my little brother. He is only two years younger than me but has always been the golden child, being a boy. Once I turned 16 I decided I wanted information about my father and I knew, by law, I am entitled to know at least his name. However, my mother thought differently and only told me he gave me up before I was born. The rest of my family think that my mom has no idea who my father is, there is also the illusion that my brother's father is also mine. My brother and I had a paternal DNA test done and proved we are not paternally related, only maternally. All I have ever asked is for his name since I was very small. Now, at the age of 27, it is no longer my priority to find him. If he knew how to find me and found me then I would give him that chance.
By Sydni Kasem9 years ago in Families
Living in Silence
Imagine for a moment, you ask your 2 year-old to say Apple or Mommy. Son, would you like some More Wah-Ter? Say Plee-ease. Now imagine that you won't hear him say these words until he is almost 5 years old. He is quiet and will often not engage in eye contact for fear of being spoken to and to have to reciprocate. Not even a simple Hello. How long had I waited for him to say Mommy or say that he loves me too.
By Christine Holden9 years ago in Families
