grief

Losing a family member is one of the most traumatic life events; Families must support one another to endure the five stages of grief and get through it together.

  • Kristyn Meyer
    Published 3 days ago
    Moms Know Best, And You Will Too

    Moms Know Best, And You Will Too

    Moms Know Best, And You Will Too
  • Jesse Meade-wilson
    Published 3 days ago
    Blood in The Sand

    Blood in The Sand

    All of the following events are inspired by true events, reader discretion is advised...
  • Daryl Campbell
    Published 3 days ago
    My mom has PLS

    My mom has PLS

    It’s good I got to this contest in time. I was scrolling through Facebook or Insta and saw this contest and I thought about what to enter. I love using my brain. I don’t really need the money particularly, however, it’ll surely help my family with times being so hard right now. They’ll have more faith in what I do. I’ll explain. We’re an African-American family. We’re going through the same bullshit other blacks go through in this country. I’m blessed I haven’t had a cop pull a gun or me, been called a n****r in public, or have to use a COLOREDS ONLY restroom. I reside in Atlanta where racial tensions are less futile. The white people are way more friendly over there. That’s a joke. I’m not racist. Can’t be. But that’s another article. I recently moved back to Missouri City, TX to help my mom because she has a rare disease called PLS. That’s 20 minutes from Houston. Racism here is more likely. But I digress from that. PLS is a motor neuron deficiency disease my dear mom has. She can’t talk, walk straight, and has problems eating. She’s so frail. She’s at home all the time. Not bed ridden and I pray it doesn’t come to that. When she has to express herself it’s hard on me because I can hardly tell if she’s laughing or crying when she needs something. It gets scary. She has a communicator on her phone that reads her texts. I miss her voice, though... My dad is stronger than me. He helps her shower, in therapy, and use the bathroom. He’s a good man for it, but it’s hard on me because I will always remember my mom in a much more different and fun way. Athletic, getting up to work early, jumping around to Frankie Beverly and Maze, cooking the best fried fish you’ve ever had on the weekends. I know Christmases won’t be the same... My mom was really vocal and active. Actually, I don’t know how my dad does it when he takes care of her. My mom always said she didn’t want no nursing home if she ever got old and sick. My father obides. She’s only 66. He, 67. I know he took those ‘vows’ seriously. He’s a good man, but it’s just hard on me being her son. I think about girls I date seeing my mom and maybe they’ll get scared I’ll end up like her and dump me. Sometimes I get scared and think I’ll end up with PLS. I pray I don’t. I don’t want PLS!! Please understand that I’m not selfish and I do love my mom. I’m not writing this for money. You can count how many times I’ve said it. I guess a result of this is that the persons reading live every day like it’s their last. Carpe Diem. That’s the phrase. Don’t take walking for granted. Don’t take bathing for granted. Don’t even take eating for granted. Live, live, live. But live right. One day you’re here and the next you could be gone. At least try to live by that in this sad world. Life is so bittersweet. That’s what I’m seeing at my age. I’m 34. I pray my mom makes a FULL RECOVERY. She’s in rough shape, however, I still pray. I know there’s a God. He’s always good. Uhhhh, it’s hard. I guess you can tell from this entry I write professionally and you would be correct as shit. Like I said, I don’t ‘need’ the prize but it would help my family out and help them to believe in me to be a great writer. Be blessed.
  • Hazel Sias
    Published 4 days ago
    Let go

    Let go

    October 1st 2017, was a sunny day with clouds in the air that were bigger than a boat. Little did the world know it was the day it would be my first time learning how death could teach me a thing or two. Waking up to a glass of warm coffee and a crying baby, in which was the only niece of mine. Before this crucial day my parents had split up and I ended up living with my sister. My dad stayed in our childhood home and my mom got a new apartment with her boyfriend and my brother. At the time my sisters husband, well now ex husband, just left the house for good and my sister was in this deep hole of depression and was never home. She was always out drink and doing things that never really made any sense. I learned my sister would buy things to fill up the hole this man had left her but in the end she would give up and sell the item in which she had purchased. In 2017 I was a junior in high school ,I didn’t know much but I learned very quickly how to take care of a child that wasn’t mine. It seems that many children in El Paso learn this it’s sorta a natural thing i’ve seen it every where. So my father took the separation very difficult he tried his best to talk with us and socialize with us but at that time it was already to late to catch up. My father was hard headed man or here in El Paso we would say old school, he would pay the bills while my mom cooked and cleaned for everyone. A construction worker is always out in the sun and that was my father career he was good with building/inventing things. But the one thing he was most good at was painting. Art flows through my family, like many others could be music, cooking, organizing etc,. But he would also come home drunk and yelling at everyone after work. It was pretty much and every day thing, my parents would fight and we would leave our home and sleep in other peoples homes or even the parks, behind stores etc. After awhile it gets old and you get used to the same thing over and over so my mom would sleep on the couch and my brother and I shared a room, my sister had her own house with her husband and child so she didn’t know what was going on. No body was really home and once you would enter the house you could just feel the sadness that runs through the air. My mom got me and my brother together and talked to us on how we felt at home because it was affecting the way we were at school. We had told her it wasn’t the same and we didn’t like going home anymore so she took initiative and told my father we were leaving and we grab all of our things and never turned back. My father gave up he didn’t know what else to do there wasn’t much he could’ve done either way we were stuck on emotion that we didn’t want to see the good. So on October 1st 2017 my father takes his own life in our childhood home. I’ve never heard so many cries and screams that day the sunny day turned into a long cold cloudy day. Since that day on we never spoke about my dad we don’t even talk to his side of the family because they hate my mom for what she did but they don’t really know why we left and the things we were going through. I picked up anxiety and massive drug abuse after my father passed and now in 2020 I’ve grown to see and appreciate the things that were given to me. I work harder every day to give the thing my loved ones need but at the same time I miss the old days when my dads side of the family would come to our house and have a small gathering here and there. It’s difficult to not have family on your side when you really need it the most. It’s July first and it’s my fathers birthday and that’s why I’m here to tell my story my he Rest In Peace and be a memory I’ll never forget.
  • Katelyn Doner
    Published 4 days ago
    Running From Love

    Running From Love

    The snow hit the rocks and laid there still as glass and silence. Not a sound to be heard other than the howling winds. Wind which brought the crystallized specs all over the town and water on the edge of the ice covered beach. Water stilled, waves no more until the big thaw comes in the spring. Light pours out from the lighthouse above, rotating and spinning in all directions. Always on the lookout for any and all arrivals to the snow covered dunes.
  • Kathleen Elizabeth Comfort-Steinbaecher
    Published 6 days ago
    Numb

    Numb

    After this weekend, I realize that while my heart cries out and my tears fall, I still am in disbelief that my Joey is gone. Memories, like the one above will never be made again....that, doesn't compute in my brain. As much as I KNOW these times are gone, my brain still refuses to accept it. Someone who recently lost their child asked me if the numbness is "normal?" Normal....what exactly is that? We wonder if we are grieving correctly... what is the "proper" way to grieve?
  • Jay Cintron
    Published 6 days ago
    Death

    Death

    A Death:
  • Cameron Marquis
    Published 6 days ago
    Déjà Maybe

    Déjà Maybe

    T-tops off, wind blowing, locs flowing, Marley playing, herb burning—I was flying. The thing about my family is we weren’t religious, meaning we didn’t subscribe to any dogma. I’m sure this has a lot to do with my mother being the person she has always been. A strong willed woman who was raised in a very religious, country household in the Jim Crow south; Zuni, Virginia to be specific. After living through segregation, integration, and being a so-called “black” wombman (as she often spelled woman), in this “land of our foremothers” (as she often called America), she at some point decided to unsubscribe to the traditions that had been blindly handed down for generations. It was probably some time during her enrollment at one of the local HBCU’s where the seed of curiosity began to sprout into the fully blossomed thirst for research. I mean, dad is smart, but mom is constantly learning in an attempt to find the universal truth that connects all, at least that’s my interpretation of how she tries to define her affinity. The best part is that she also instilled it in me, it’s even rubbed off on dad. For example, since my mom has been attesting to the power of words and etymology, and learning new languages like Hebrew, Arabic, and Kiswahili, dad did his due diligence and informed everyone that in Kiswahili, zuni is the root word for sad. Most people would see this as mere coincidence, however we don’t believe in such a thing. Everything is connected, we call it synchronicity. Now, I’m not saying that my mom had a sad childhood or that Zuni was a sad place. As dad puts it, “you don’t know you’re missing something if don’t first know that it exists.”
  • Audrey Elena
    Published 11 days ago
    Tragic Passion & Toxic Love: Part 3

    Tragic Passion & Toxic Love: Part 3

    New parents to our son. Happily in love. We think our dream journey of love is about to begin like we're impervious to a failed relationship, Taylor working 6-10 hour shifts. Newborn beauty Uncontrollable fear of failure. Postpartum Depression. Dependency on a person, which can ruin your entire life if you don't put a stop to it's progression, that is if you are even self aware enough to realize you're becoming dangerously dependent on someone that isn't yourself. At the end of the day, no one will fight harder for you, than you, so don't ever fight harder for a person than you do for yourself, because while you may help them along their journey, you could be severely damaging your own while also possibly robbing them of a valuable lesson they may be meant to learn on their path through life. Alongside having the fear of looking stupid, I let my pride break my heart beyond compare and ended up losing the love of my life, which I greatly feared more than anything else in my life, I'm ashamed to admit because I still felt that way even after I became a mother, that is what severe dependency can do to you. I'm merely blessed and lucky, both, to have been one of the few people who managed to wake up to who they really were becoming in time to make a change in themselves, and maybe even make a difference in the world if they choose to. I myself have decided to use my personal experiences and horrendous decisions that ultimately brought me nothing but pain, despair, terror, and hopelessness to my life in order to hopefully save other innocent people from going through something that is entirely avoidable. While what I made it through taught me great things that will only benefit me from here on out, I am only one of so many people who have suffered these things and I'm one of the lucky ones who didn't let their pain, or their fear of hopelessness in their lives, cause them to have no future or life at all, so if I can help them by talking about how valuable fighting for and living their lives in the best ways life would allow really makes a person feel, and they decide to take my word for it, and that word saves ANY number of lives, everything we suffered will have been worth it, and I'd even put Taylor through it all again for the same outcome that gave us both much needed knowledge I definitely never obtained, and surprisingly knowledge even he had needed to get through life. I finally managed to become a person I actually see having a bright and meaningful future. I finally feel like I have a purpose in my life worth more than just showering everyone with all the love I'm able to hold (which turns out is a HEAVY LOT). However that doesn't mean I don't still have terrible fear of failure, because if anything now I have even more than I used to, and the fear I used to have crippled me yet through some, honestly, un-explainable epiphany that I was truly blessed by God to see, unlike what I imagine to be nearly everyone else on the planet who probably never have an out of world experience like I did, and due to that I'm finally for the first time in my twenty-six years of life being brave by going after what I want, despite the immense fear of failing that in my past, ended with me letting it take everything I had cared for and wanted, away. I let the fear keep me from making any effort that way I wouldn't fail at all, but that was worse than failing. I was ignorant to think there was any way around being responsible for my own happiness let alone my baby son's life which I knew too well was so easily able to mess up... Anyways, he and I really believed that the love we had for each other would make it through any and every single horrible thing life could possibly throw at us, and for a long time, we showed life what we were made of. I really thought my dream of finding true love that mattered above all else actually came true, and it did, but not in the way I expected, or hoped for... but in a way that left two people who dove head first into each other and into the unknown lifestyle of adulthood which for our parents, was entirely different, and to us, so fucking much easier, we were blind-sighted by the fact that it looked so simple for them, because even though it's never simple, it was a far deal more so for our elders than it is for us, and we never thought it fair that we were raised how we were, differently but still felt the same way, and essentially tossed to the wolves which was life, and it utterly obliterated us entirely. Never seeing it coming because we couldn't see anything but each other, and at the time, I thought that our ability to have almost nothing but each other yet still manage to laugh and enjoy our company was a real life miracle kind of love, the kind you never let go.
  • Cs03
    Published 11 days ago
    Looking For Answers

    Looking For Answers

    On September 20th,2004, my son Trey was born. He was beautiful and healthy, the most perfect blessing we could ever receive. At the time he was born my husband and I lived in Wisconsin, which is where I am from, however he was from South Carolina. There wasn’t many job opportunities at the time, and my Mother and Father were getting ready to move to Oklahoma, so we decided to move to South Carolina so that we could raise our son around his family. So, on January 3rd, 2005, we did just that.
  • Wendy Usher
    Published 11 days ago
    What to Say to a Grieving Mother

    What to Say to a Grieving Mother

    My eldest child died two years ago. He was 27.
  • Remy Dhami
    Published 12 days ago
    Dear Grandma

    Dear Grandma

    This is weird. It’s weird because you’ve been gone for so long. Because they said give it time and that’s all I’ve done. Because it’s been four years.