humanity
Humanity begins at home.
Raised alone...but my Sister was down the road!
o I was raised in Montclair, New Jersey with my Mom. Although my parents were divorced I had and have a good relationship with my Father, even better after a heart to heart when I was 21 years old. When I was young, I was visiting my Nana and Pop (my paternal grandparents) as I often would do. My Nana and I were talking and organizing, she was s a seamstress. I am unsure how the topic came up, but I vividly remember her saying, "You have an older sister." Now here is where my youthful imagination takes hold and I concoct a story in my mind that she lives in Michigan...Now my Nana could have mentioned Michigan in reference to something else, but from that day forward the story I told myself was, "You have a sister and she lives in Michigan."
By Shakera Jones6 years ago in Families
Before Lockdown
So there is apparently this trend on social media to tell everyone what you were doing just before lockdown. Since we are a little over one year from when the lockdown began. I have seen quite a few stories of things people have done. Vacations, moving, etc.
By Mindy Best6 years ago in Families
Papers:
They were all so proud of him. He was the first one in his family to go to university; the first one to have a degree from anywhere besides high school or community college. When they arrived home from the campus, most of the relatives who were in town greeted him and his mother and brothers. People he knew as uncles gripped him with dangerous handshakes; the women who were known as aunts embraced him, smiled and went back to unwrapping casseroles and plates of still steaming piles of food. They all wanted to see the diploma he still had in the envelope, and he had almost forgotten about the gown and the mortarboard in a plastic bag until they all began making requests for him to put them both back on and pose with his degree without his family. They all wanted to remember this very special moment in their lives.
By Kendall Defoe 6 years ago in Families
My Fire
To the one who raised me, Your fire astounds me. Passion flows out of you like a quiet brook in the middle of a forest, elegant and calm. Even when I felt my own fire grow dim, you relit it with your own flame and pushed me onward. You've taught me how to let that light shine even when others find it blinding. How to use what I've been through to make myself stronger and more kind. It may have felt like it was the two of us against the world, but I know you had the only strength for the both of us.
By Miranda Bowron6 years ago in Families
Mom & Dad Showing Me How
I find it remarkable that I am still learning new things about my parents after they are dead and gone. Why is it that some truly remarkable things we don’t appreciate until we are much older? I remember as a young kid growing up with my three younger siblings we always had a housekeeper to help around the house and babysit us while mom and dad were at work. This was an odd situation in the late fifties as the moms usually stayed home while the fathers left us each day to go do their jobs.
By Doug Caldwell6 years ago in Families
ASD Snapshot: An Arresting Speech
When Autism Speaks, We Listen The spring of 2016 sees Erik on Parliament Hill. He speaks to a crowd gathered to hear voices united for autism. He speaks for parents of children with autism when he says that their belief is like the Centennial Flame that burns on the Hill. It never goes out, just as our hope and our belief for our children burn brightly within each of us. Politicians, autism leaders, scientists, moms, dads, grandmas, grandpas and siblings wipe a tear as Erik speaks of his poppa’s belief and of the four words that have become his guiding light. When autism speaks, we listen.
By Teresa Hedley6 years ago in Families
