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.
For Whom the Pueo Calls
I had never seen an owl up close before. When I lifted its lifeless body, I was struck first with how slight its weight was. The impressive wingspan, sharp claws designed to snatch small prey, and the owl's majesty in flight so contradicted this awareness now of the animal's fragility. The delicate bone structure, round face, small beak, and the light snuffed from its eyes demonstrated a universal truth – death pulls the curtain away on all of us to reveal our ultimate vulnerability. Cradling its body on my forearm, I stroked its light brown feathers speckled with black eye-shaped dots. Shifting it over, I patted the owl’s pillowy soft tufts of fine white feathers covering its underbelly and legs.
By Malia Akutagawa5 years ago in Families
“Non-Omnis Moriar”
“Non-Omnis Moriar” (Grief, Mourning, Motherhood) By S.E. Teres Fifteen. Fifteen steps. Fifteen steps to her room. So strange what you notice in the after. When you walk into a dimly lit, silent house knowing you only have a short time alone with your grief. The deafening quiet is almost a comfort when you break down.
By Sarah Teres5 years ago in Families
An ethereal greeting from my uncle
I'm not one for taking walks or going hiking. I think it's because I was part of the cross-country club during my high school days and we used to tire ourselves out, experiencing extreme weather conditions such as strong rain or hot and humid periods while doing our laps on uneven terrain.
By Gia Clarissa5 years ago in Families
Gramps the Owl
My Grandfather was an owl. How he became the owl, I don’t quite know. I would imagine it was because he studied late into the night. As a young girl, I knew him as Gramps and by the symbol of the owl. When my mother was born, the doctor proclaimed her the owlet. She arrived in the late hours of night and being the owl’s offspring, it was a natural name to give her.
By Taya Louisa5 years ago in Families
Survival
The world outside is treacherous and hostile. It’s been weeks since we’ve been stuck in this hideout. A measly hollowed log being the most dangerous of our camps the last couple weeks. Everywhere we’ve tried to make our home has been lost to the horrific creatures of this world. My six children and I have been trapped here with no food for days. My husband left to scout the area and gather food, but he hasn’t returned yet and I'm starting to worry he will never return.
By colton hughes5 years ago in Families
String of Hope
Everything happened in the blink of an eye. I gasped for air but gulped water instead. As the waves continued to crash, the salinity burned my eyes. My life jacket was the only thing keeping me afloat, but the waves were too intense. At this moment, my life flashed before my eyes.
By Jayda Morrell5 years ago in Families
The Last Winter
My eyes burst open. Hair, sweaty and tangled, sticks to the back of my neck. The small suburban guestroom is dark, but the streetlights lining the cul-de-sac cast a glow on the wall at the foot of my blow-up mattress. Fuzzy, thrift store paintings stare back at me. Squinting, I try to make sense of the lines and shapes, but I don’t have my glasses on. If I wasn’t so numb when I landed, I might have taken a moment to look around and absorb my surroundings. They changed the room around since the last time I was in town.
By Sara Gaines5 years ago in Families
Mom's promise
I sat at the kitchen table, my face drenched in my own tears. I have just received a phone call from my sister Meghan from Oregon. " Kyle, I tried to call earlier but no one answered." I could tell there was something wrong by the tone of her voice. "What happened?" I asked. "Dad came over this morning in tears. Mom has passed away." She cried. I dropped the receiver and fell to the floor. My stomach tightened to the point where I felt intense pain. My mother and I were very close. That night broke me more than anything.
By Danielle Mosley5 years ago in Families
Open Letter to my Hero
You were my role model, my hero, and my Grandmother. You were there for us when our parents had to work. You were there for every local United Kennel Club tournament I was competing in. You were there for every basketball game and chorus concert. Thank you. Even when I knew you shouldn't have shown up. You still came to my Jr. & Sr. prom pictures, my Sr. Homecoming, and by the Grace of God you were able to make it to my Graduation. Thank you.
By Jessica Harris5 years ago in Families
Closure
I often walk in my neighborhood late at night. I enjoy the solitude and it’s almost a guarantee I won’t run into some random person who disturbs it by simply appearing on the same street as me. We live just outside the city and, on a clear night it’s dark enough to see millions of stars sprayed across the inky sky.
By Kara Ann Hancuff5 years ago in Families
Owls in the Attic
“Do you see that?” Jules says over her shoulder. She is pointing to a spot on the shore line where an old, tattered Boston whaler is tied up to an equally weathered dock. I dip my paddle into the cloudy water; pulling the canoe another length forward. Jules had stopped paddling a few moments before to squint curiously at the array of houses, cottages, and shacks that were scattered along this particular stretch of coastline. I rest my paddle across my lap; taking a long swig of the tepid beer I had poured into my water bottle before we had set sail. With a sigh, I direct my attention to where Jules is looking. The glare on the water causes me to squint too.
By Amy Motson5 years ago in Families
