grandparents
Becoming a grandparent makes getting older something to look forward to - all the fun of parenting, without the hassle.
Daily Struggles of an 81-Year-Old and His Daughter — Part 2
That Saga Continues For those that are not familiar, and as a refresher, my 81-year-old father moved in with us on his own. I started to journal our daily struggles of living with an old, stubborn, narrow-minded, negative man to cope with the stress. Journaling our mishaps, conversations, and disagreements has helped me be more tolerant and patient. Besides, he is my Dad and I love him. Therefore, here’s part 2.
By Debbie's Reflection5 years ago in Families
When Grandparents Become Parents Again
Many grandparents have become the transformative face of parenting these days. A lot of mature adults have worked very hard to make beautiful sacrifices as their families grew and were launched into the world. Now the independence they anticipated for years becomes repurposed into another generation of parenting.
By Dr Deborah M Vereen5 years ago in Families
How much will local authority pay for care home
The research also shows that this is leading to a problem where local authorities are having to spend more on care homes, with people living longer meaning there are more elderly who need care. The increase in costs means that some people are struggling financially and have been forced into residential care homes
By Emma Clarke5 years ago in Families
What can the 1925 Silent Generation Teach about 2021 Values and Survival
I asked a friend once if he knew who the silent generation was. Without hesitation, he said they must be the young people walking by with their faces glued to their cell phones, not looking or talking. How very wrong…in fact, they are the opposite end of the spectrum. They have a lot to teach us about perseverance in tough times to believing in yourself as a good and worthy person with a better tomorrow. They deserve our respect.
By Annemarie Berukoff5 years ago in Families
~My Grandpa: His name is Ken~
~ My GrandPa ~ His name is KEN! My Grandfather lived with it for forty years, He never asked for sympathy, he never cried, he never complained, he never got bitter or angry, he never blamed Jah, and he never asked for help. Though of course some was given; He just asked for love. In short, my grandfather was the Bravest man I knew. The story I am about to share with you are about the years of his life just prior to being diagnosed with Parkinson's, just after getting divorced from my Grandmother when he was alone and would spend much of his remaining yrs living on his own with it. Women want to believe that when divorce is in the picture that it's the man that's always done something wrong for there to be a need for one, my Grandmother was one of those-kind-of -women.
By Jennifer Cooley5 years ago in Families
Missing
The anguish that would not end for eleven years began on May 18th, 1977. Abass Ali, who was four years old at the time, did not recall the details of his grandfather’s mysterious disappearance. However, he was told that his grandpa, Abdool Ali, was an ornithologist who studied all types of birds, but adored the Scarlet Macaw the most. He knew that his grandpop went on a routine trip into the Amazon Rainforest to study the creatures, and, well, he never came back. After this, his grandmother, Anita Ali, sat most nights in the parlor alone, not saying a word, as if catatonic. Abass relentlessly asked his mother about his grandfather’s abrupt departure and she danced around his questions.
By Brady Blough5 years ago in Families
Excommunication of the Self...
Originally written by Olivia Petrus. Oct. 7th, 2007. I stared out the car window at the green open fields enveloped in the early Sunday morning light. The car moved slowly up and down the hilly road that led us past the Illinois countryside. I noticed the birds soaring freely in the blue skies and watched the cows graze, while the horses galloped in and out of the stereotypical barns littered across that Middle-of-Nowhere Town.
By Unlisted&Twisted!5 years ago in Families
Coffee With My Grandmother
A few days ago, a memory popped into my head of having coffee with my grandmother. It’s a joyful memory from my childhood. I was talking to my mother yesterday, and we discussed this memory. She reminded me of the name of the bistro in Hungary called Orient where I used to go to get coffee with my grandmother. We would go to the bistro a few times a year when I was visiting my grandmother. She used to work there as a waitress when she was younger.
By Gabriella Korosi5 years ago in Families
Gasping for air
I watch as my grandfather adjusts his massive frame in the green armchair and realize I’m all alone with him in the dark front room of their Appalachian home. We’d driven twelve hours in our maroon Oldsmobile Custom Cruiser to see them, my mother’s travel games keeping us three kids somewhat occupied along with the rotation of who got to sit in the rear jump seat that faced backwards. In later years, we’d take I-64 through West Virginia, but on this trip, we traveled across our home state of Virginia on I-81 to the mountains of Kentucky. Our first stop was the Tastee-Freeze outside of Emporia for an ice cream.
By F Cade Swanson5 years ago in Families
