grandparents
Becoming a grandparent makes getting older something to look forward to - all the fun of parenting, without the hassle.
Living at Home
Now, we have all been there in the same scenario…going away for college and enjoying the college experience and actually living on your own for a bit. On the weekends you would visit home every other week, weekend, or holiday right? Well in my case, I have finished college with my Bachelors of Science degree in Business Administration from California State University, Channel Islands. It was an amazing experience when I was attending the campus. Having the freedom of having my own dorm room and sharing a room with a roommate was a great experience. After college ended, I had to move back home with the grandparents after living on campus for two years to finish my Bachelor’s Degree.
By Alex Osborne6 years ago in Families
The Life and Times of Baby No. 13
Abandoned, on a cool October afternoon, to the nurses of the Saint Louis World's Fair nursery, Baby No. 13 could have fallen victim to many fates. He could have been left to the already crowded orphanages, to later be institutionalized. He could have been subject to child labor, as this was a time when one third of all southern mill workers were children and child labor laws would not be commonplace for years to come. He could have been lost and forgotten in the system that so often fell short for helpless children.
By Michelle Edwards6 years ago in Families
Reflections
The beach wasn’t at all how I’d recalled it as a child. I’d often fantasised about scrunching my toes in the soft, glorious sand, shrieking at the countless blue waves, often intimidating in their size, fiercely crashing into the bay. Now upon my return I saw the beach for what it really was. The sand blurred out in a dismal trance, the shore fading into a grey liquid sludge, bleak and miserable in the dull winter light. The sea, now brown in colour, was motionless, dead. Its rancid salty breath blew tepidly through my hair accompanied by the keen bite on my cheeks of cold winter winds. A small colony of gulls chased after the rest of someone’s discarded lunch blustering across the decaying peer. The repetitive buzz of fair ground music and slot machines only soiled the atmosphere further.
By Molly Winton6 years ago in Families
A Grandson’s Tribute
Alma Katherine Hagan was born February 24, 1925 near Strode, Kentucky, the daughter of Erie and Nora Page Hagan. Along with her parents, brothers, sisters and Grandpa Brock Page, the rickety little house a short distance from old Rockbridge School swelled with life on the brink of the Great Depression. They worked hard raising gardens and a family on a tobacco income, moving several times before making a home on the George Carter farm in the curve on highway 1049. Grandma was the seventh of ten children—Neva, Clifton, Glaydell, Odell, Dale, Ruby, Katherine, Sarah, Chloe Eagle and James Wendall—with several not living until adulthood. With the exception of Chloe Eagle, Katherine survived them all. One of her earliest memories was hearing James Wendall crying. He did not live more than a few months.
By Drew Lindsey6 years ago in Families
My Mentor
Everybody has that one person that they idolize, someone that they aspire to be. For some, it is a celebrity; for others, it is an athlete; and for some, it is their own family. The person that I idolize is my grandfather. I idolize him because he lived an interesting life. My grandfather got to grow up in the 1920s, and I find that interesting because I like to ask him what things were like back then, and what his views are on today’s society. I find it interesting because he is a veteran of the Korean War, in fact he was even shot in the foot (that’s not important, I just wanted to add that).
By Walter Duke6 years ago in Families
Absent, Not Gone
“It’s you and me against the world.” Those were the words my grandfather would often utter when I padded downstairs to kiss him goodnight. He was a quiet man who rarely indulged in idle conversation, let alone humor, but when he saw my face framed with messy hair, his brown eyes seemed to glow. He would smile for me. I would hoard his abrupt chuckles like a dragon would gold.
By Becca Volk6 years ago in Families
Finishing What He Started
My late grandfather was an editor's choice award winner three times. He wrote songs, short stories, and children's books. I even heard of a screenplay for a TV show that he never showed anyone. He was a child at heart and always knew how to reach children with his words. Imagine the lessons we got as kids, not to mention the bedtime stories and games we played together. He was always so animated and got into it with his outfits. We had a lot of fun growing up because of him.
By Carmen Spiteri6 years ago in Families
The Life of Brian
Welcome, everyone, to my first post, and an introduction to the overall topic of this blog. The topic of this blog and many of my posts will be my grandfather's disability before his recent passing. Many subjects will be covered in the discourse of this blog. Examples of this are; how did my grandfather become paralysed? What is quadriplegia/tetraplegia? What further health problems can this cause? What the UK health care service did to help, what is autonomic dysreflexia, what was his life like before he was paralysed, and other topics.
By Jo McGarry6 years ago in Families
Living as a Caregiver
I have been a caregiver to my grandmother for almost eight years. Back in my late teen years, I saw the signs, I giggled at the silly things she did, I blew off her strange behavior and mood swings. But I never imagined that I would spend my 20s tethered to the family home, missing out on some of the most important experiences of my life for almost eight years straight.
By Zaney Vayne6 years ago in Families
From Oatmeal Cookies to Soup on a Plate
My grandfather is a retired Navy Chief of 30 years. He has always told his favorite Navy stories. When I was little I used to get tired of the same story over and over again, but now I crave to hear the story of how his buddies gave his friend a swirly for losing a bet just one more time.
By Hailey Corum6 years ago in Families