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.
Remember To Be Dangerous
“Go ahead, choose something, kid, don’t be shy.” My sister’s lawyer cracked his knuckles and looked at his watch. “Five minutes should be plenty, don’t you think?”
AJ VanderhorstPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesLittle Black Book
LITTLE BLACK BOOK “You must take it... just take it! This is your last chance, our last chance! NOW TAKE IT!!! FOR YOUR SAKE TAKE IT!!!
Pete SmythPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesThe Legacy
1. The Will I exited the lawyer’s office quickly, whisking myself out of my chair at the back of the oak-walled room and striding ahead of Father to avoid any talk, or, more likely, criticism. “See I told you that she wouldn't leave you anything, you are a disappointment to both of us”, Father shouted after me. I did not need to turn around to know the slow, cruel smirk which would be growing across his sagged face. Mother was gone and finally free of him, and that gave me strength, stopping myself from any sign of a tear. It was a tragedy that it took death for her to escape.
Deborah WilliamsPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesBurden Upon Inheritance
“Crocodile tears.” I thought as I watched my stepmother, Rose Vincent, cry over my father’s open casket. She was very obviously a gold digger but dear old dad was too blind to see her for what she was, a money-sucking parasite. As I walked over to pay my final respects a hand tugged at my sleeve I whipped around already furious at my father’s death. Not to my surprise, it was Marc, my friend since birth and my only ally since my father remarried. "Cora..." he started but never finished I pulled him into a hug, fast, as for him to not see me cry. "It's going to be alright okay?" he said softly "and hey since he can't pay for Rose's 2 sizes to small corsets and petticoats she'll probably scamper back into whatever cave she crawled out of." a small ha was all I was able to get out. As church bells rang overhead, Marc and everyone headed into the church for the will reading and I followed close behind.
avaleigh pricePublished 3 years ago in FamiliesLetters to Kobe
Dear Kobe, Though you are apart from us, you continue to be amazing. You are glorious. You are righteous. For a huge part of my life, you have served the purpose of instilling faith in me. The faith I needed to help me believe in my own abilities— to rise against the norms and fight with a greater purpose. A purpose to succeed in a life that society has not made valuable for you and I.
teva jenkinsPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesDiary of always
21st February, 2021 $20,000. $20,000! Fuck. I didn’t know you even had that kind of money. Whenever we daydreamed together - you in your chair, me on the floor - fantasizing about how our lives might look if we came into a chunk of it, we’d always end our conversations in the same way; my pithy one-liner, your solemn disclaimer:
Joseph HughesPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesOld Fashioned
"Shirley Temple on ice with ginger ale, please." Ally whispered loudly to the waitress as she looked around. She didn't want her sister to know she quit drinking, again. The facade of her look alike old fashioned bourbon was comforting. Quarantine day drinking had finally gotten to her. Without alcohol, she was a dry drunk. Twelve step emotional sobriety was too much work. If not for anger and resentments, she wouldn't have fuel to get through the day. After losing her job there was no one left to be mad at but herself. She had a strong urge for a drink and to be out of the house.
Ellen M. Holtzman, DTMPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesThe Black Butterfly
Living My Truth was beginning to become my daily norm, despite all the backlash I've gotten from my family. Was I the cause of the mix-up the filled drama and constant arguments? I couldn't figure out what to do with the fact that I'm going to finally come face to face with my enemy someone I've never seen before but constantly kept putting images together. See I was adopted and I didn’t find out the truth until this year when my mother suddenly passed away it put a real damper on the family especially me. The hurt I experienced was a hurt I’ve never felt so deep as if I was running through a rose bush full of thorns dark and cold , rough & fierce. As the saltwater tears of sadness streamed down my cold cheeks I whimpered in silence wishing I could hold her and feel the warmth of her body next to my young motherless body. Yes motherless I didn't have a mother anymore and even though I had my father I really didn't have him, we found out three years ago he was diagnosed with cancer and it was beginning to eat at his brain cells. Sometimes he knows me and sometimes he doesn't it was a hit and miss but he's all I have now. Between me and my siblings we didn't have the best relationship, everyone grieves different and do I mean differently. Me being the youngest and also the black sheep is what's gotten me to let out my untold truth the mystery, the guilt and sadness behind “The Black Butterfly”
Sheree Harris-BrownPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesNow Helena is gone.
A tiny sparrow skittered along the warm concrete path infront of Frederich. It chittered sweetly, and tilted it's head from one side to another, looking up at the boy resting in stillness. It wasn't unlike Frederich to help others. But today he didn't quite feel like helping in the way he knew he would be asked. He sat quietly on the bench in the courtyard behind his father's office and looked at the small leather book in his lap. It was black, with thin cracks along the soft spine after many years of use. It was his diary and within the pages were details of his life he would never speak aloud, the naïve confessions and wishes of an eleven year old. He breathed in the warm August air deeply and let the smell of grass and apple blossom comfort him. He wanted to run to his bedroom to grab his favourite pen, to write down the many thoughts that were quickly overcrowding his head. Had he heard his uncle correctly? If his uncle kept pushing, then he would have to admit everything. Before this summer, he had been a companion to his aunt, Helena. She was blind, and Frederich had been her aid around the house since he was eight, and his father had seen him grow wistful as his older brother Karl paid him less attention than when they were younger. After school, he had spent countless hours reading to her, walking with her, describing her gardens and the weather, making her coffee. They had been like mother and son (his own mother having died after his birth), and her unexpected death that May had caused him the sharpest of heartaches imaginable. He had cried every night for months, but by late July he could hold his tears back if he wanted to. He thought back to what he heard his Uncle Peter say to his father this morning: “It can't just be 'lost' for crying out loud, Sam, you know it! You'll have to ask Freddie again, he's the one who spent the most time with her.” Frederich looked over his shoulder through the open doors into his father's office where his father was now, at his desk, quietly reading a letter with knotted brows and a hand holding his square chin. However much he loved, and feared, his father, he didn't think he could tell him the truth. His sister had been the only kindness in his father's hard life, and now she was gone; Frederich knew his father was changed. Squinting through the light thrown down on the cobblestones and grass of the courtyard at the small sundial ahead of him, Frederich observed it was nearly time for lunch. His stomach was in knots and he needed desperately to talk to Karl about the mounting guilt in his mind - he and his brother had been the only ones who knew she had the money. Karl, who was seventeen, clever and affable, had come to visit Helena one afternoon, whilst Frederich was reading (slowly, painfully) Dostoyevsky to her. He knew Karl liked to flit around the house and look in boxes, drawers and books. But he didn't think his brother would ever find anything exciting, until he did. One afternoon, a month before Helena's death, he'd found a small, plain, dark wooden box in a bureau dresser drawer, which made no noise when shaken, but was locked. Naturally he wanted to find the key, and a curious mind pushed him to search further, till he found the miniature brass key in a drawer below an envelope cubbyhole. Karl had thought he'd find some photographs, or a letter perhaps, not $20.000. He had thought it fake, never having seen dollar notes before, and almost laughed out loud to think why all of this cash would be locked in a box. But the notes were crinkled, dry and faded – not how you'd assume fake money to look. After talking discreetly to an older boy at the local post office, Karl had discerned that the American money was real, and confided so in Frederich. Frederich had confided in his diary. Together they joked over dreams of what they could do and buy if they changed the money or ran to America, but wondered how it had came to be, when their aunt didn't work and their uncle was just an accountant. Helena had never mentioned anything to him about America, no holidays there or far away friends across the sea. She'd only mentioned that Uncle Peter had once had a long business trip to Chicago. But she had also mentioned that the reason she and Uncle Peter didn't get along so well anymore was a 'difference in morals' – but Frederich has only understood that to mean that she disliked him smoking, and he thought she cussed too much, which she did. Neither of the boys liked their uncle Peter, with his scornful laughs and patronizing advice. They knew their father wasn't so keen on him either, and was bothered greatly by a more frequent presence of him since his sister's death. As soon as Helena had passed, the boys had discussed what would happen to the money – Frederich had been scared and thrilled to admit he wanted to hide it, much as Karl did. And it had been easy enough to do, no one suspected the usually honest brothers – Aunt Helena couldn't see, and Uncle Peter stayed out her living room even when he wasn't at work. It wasn't until they had heard their father and uncle talking about 'lost money' and a 'debt' that Frederich realized that they had what someone looking for. The thing was, Frederich knew that it was now with Karl. Karl who had ran away two months ago, telling noone, not even his brother, where he was going. The small bird that Frederich had been watching hopped away, and he imagined that maybe it knew how he felt, and was taking away some of his worries to wherever it flew next.
Max ClairePublished 3 years ago in FamiliesEverlasting
The sound of his retching weighs heavily on my heart as I patiently rub his back with my hand. These last few months, I feel as though we have all fallen into a horrible routine. Wake up, eat, go to work, watch as my loving brother drinks away more of his soul, and repeat. I try and be there for him, but there isn't anything that I can do that will make that raw pain go away.
Kerri-Anne KendrickPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesA lifetime
"I do." The crowd cheered. Confetti was thrown. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest. I had finally married the love of my life. After all this time, of years of issues and breakups, of anniversaries and celebrations. We were finally married. I leaned in to kiss them.
Infinite
Infinite His hands moved with practiced ease; an ease that was depicted through every crack in the skin of his hands, and by all the calluses that had built up on his fingertips. His hair was a silver sea of threads, much finer than the threads he used every day, as he sat at his seasoned workbench and stool. Aria was still a small child at the agile age of seven, but she looked at her father thoughtfully as she watched his steady hands move, as though they’d always known the steps to binding a book, as if he’d been born doing it. She studied the defined lines pinching his eyebrows and squinting his eyes, a look that some might interpret as angry, but Aria only knew as focused. He finished his stitch and looked down at his patiently watching Aria, bringing a soft smile to his tired face. “I’m glad you watch so intently Aria, one day you’ll be able to do this, and this bookstore will be yours' ', he gave her face a soft caress before once more returning to his work.
Katielyn MasonPublished 3 years ago in Families