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.
Replaceable Children
Fresh snow began to fall forming a light dusting over the dirt packed snow lining the sides of the road. Sitting beside my older brother, Wayne, I press my forehead against the cold window of the school bus and huffed out hot breath, steaming up the window pane and began drawing circles around the flashing street lights.
Deborah RangerPublished 4 years ago in FamiliesLast Breath
What did it really mean to die? I don’t know, I don’t really know. But my thoughts wandered all over the place as I bled out on the floor of my garage. I felt a rush of adrenaline as I reached for my phone, trying to grab my phone and dialing 9-1-1.
Abygael SilversPublished 4 years ago in FamiliesA Day In My Shoes
A day; only twenty-four hours, which may seem like a lot or a little time, but it gets stretched out even longer as you live that day the way I do. The problem is the way I’ve had to live, the way my mental state has completely corrupted me, making me think things I would have never even thought a second time before my life took a sharp turn down the wrong path. My name is Abella. I’m twenty-one, and I wanted to share my story with anyone willing to listen. I never had much when I was younger, around sixteen in this story. Until I ended up here, telling my tale on the roof of the tallest building in my city. My father was a drunk and my mother constantly leaving work early to protect us, her three children, from him when he got particularly wasted. My younger sister, Nadya was seven at the time. My younger brother Jules was only five. I always did whatever I could to keep them away from my parents when they started fighting, not wanting them to get hurt. Most times, my father would leave late in the day and not return home until around that same time two to three days later. Whenever he’d return, both my parents would get into a fight that usually consisted of my mother screaming at him, questioning about where he’d been and that he needed to get over his alcoholic nature to help her raise their three kids. He would usually sit on the couch, torn and faded fabric with pieces of cotton sticking out from years of neglect, and let her yell. He wouldn’t do anything but continue to drink or smoke, ignoring her every word until she broke down and cried. That’s where we, her kids, would come over and comfort her while my father would get up and leave to whatever part of the house he wanted to go or he would leave the house completely.
This Is Life In All Its GloryPublished 4 years ago in FamiliesChanging the narrative on international Childhood Cancer awareness day
After what has been his worst nightmare, tragically losing his son to brain cancer, one that no parent ever wants to face, Dimas eventually found inspiration from this tragedy - and for one very emotional reason.
My Rainbow Umbrella
The last time it rained this heavy was the day grandpa died a year ago. On that day, like today, the heavy rain was falling sideways. Today, it was very hard to stay dry even under the covered walkway, and my favorite rainbow-colored umbrella was almost broken and soaked through. I held what was left of my umbrella directly in front of me, instead of above me, because the galvanized roof of the school bus zone was doing some of the work at keeping us dry from above; but, the freezing raindrops stung my exposed ankles like shards of glass. I shivered and zipped my hoodie all the way to my chin and tugged on the strings to tighten the fleece hood around my face. I couldn’t explain why, but I felt this storm carried a sense of warning and I just couldn’t shake my anxiety. The butterflies in my stomach were starting to make me feel queasy and I squeezed my midsection tightly with my free hand.
Vernillia BurgherPublished 4 years ago in FamiliesBeauty From Ashes
Beauty from Ashes Another hard day of working had finally come to an end for Deena, a waitress at Creamies Burger, Shake, and Cake shack. Deena had only worked the popular South Sacramento joint for 8 months, but it felt more like 80. The long days and late nights, covering for her irresponsible co-workers were beginning to take a toll on her, but right now she had no other choice. She was a part-time college student, busting her rump to keep her tiny apartment on Young street, pay her bills, and cover the portion of tuition her financial aid wouldn’t cover. Many of her friends had taken jobs as strippers at Club Gold in Rancho Cordova, and never missed a chance to try and get her to join them, but she just couldn’t do it. As easy as they made it look, despite all the money they seemed to earn, she had been turned off from men before she was even old enough to have a relationship.
Shauna D NunnellyPublished 4 years ago in FamiliesMy Quarantine Chronicles
It all started with my husband coming home with a cough. We thought that his asthma was acting up because it is the middle of summer and the normal time his bronchial tract generally gives him issues. Twelve hours after the first cough, he had a fever. Immediately, I was alarmed but like most men he thought thera-flu and rest would make sure that he was able to continue working.
Nadine FryePublished 4 years ago in FamiliesWhat It’s Like Missing a Drug Addicted Mother
My mother passed away August 24th 2007. I was 9. I knew from a young age that my mother was not like most. She was out at most hours of the night and slept most of the day. The times she was awake, she was sitting in the dark, a shroud of cigarette smoke surrounding her like an undiscovered island.
Magnus RicePublished 4 years ago in FamiliesTime To Heal
Growing up(around the age of 6 and 7)my mother and I were close. I didn’t realize it at the time, but she was always sheltering me from the outside world. It caused me to be kind of an awkward kid. My social skills with the people around me were bad. I was comfortable being locked inside with my mother and sister, knowing we were all safe.
Jassy La’NaePublished 4 years ago in FamiliesThe day I lost him
The Day I Lost Him He took his gun out of his belt, pointing it at me, I looked at him, my life flashing in back my own eyes, I should have stayed with father, I should have never trusted a stranger. I should have…. BANG.
johnD dengPublished 4 years ago in FamiliesMarch 19, 1982
March 19th, 1982. The day the world stood still. At least, for my 7 year old brain, anyway. It was a sunny Friday afternoon and my friend was coming to my house after school, after homework. I walked home from school the usual way, cutting through the neighbor's yard behind us. Back then, most people in our town hadn't added fences to their yards yet. Daddy was waiting on the front lawn as he always was. Daddy worked two jobs and would come home for his lunch at the same time us kids got home from school just so he could see us every day. He loved his children beyond words and we always knew it. I gave him the usual big hug and we went inside.
Jena Tilton PinkhamPublished 4 years ago in FamiliesA Tribute to Angus Michael Tett
I woke up groggy the morning of Angus’ death. My eyes still had sand around the edges and my hair was jutting in one hundred different directions. I didn’t wake up by choice. I rolled over to my bedside table where my mom’s face had popped up on the phone screen. The time said 7:28 in the background. It was the only thing I could see in the pitch black. The violent buzzing from the call was a brutal sound for my headache. The sass in my head is a ruthless being, “What do you want?” I say in my best teenage attitude. My mind flipped through the past week thinking about every scenario that I could have possibly warranted a lecture at 7:28 in the morning. In the moments right after I answered, I damned myself as the most self-centered person in the world.
Alexandra TettPublished 4 years ago in Families