immediate family
Blood makes you related, loyalty makes you family.
Grandmother's Hands. Second Place in SFS 6: Green Light.
My sister Gisela had already moved out of Portland so it was just me and mom when dad died—five years ago this month. I had my own place back then, but naturally I spent a lot of time at mom’s house when it happened. We would play the piano together or watch Gilmore Girls, but when I would start to cry, she would just sit there watching me for a little bit before standing up and silently excusing herself. She didn’t shut down or stop living or overcompensate with work or drinking, the way people sometimes do. She just wasn’t available.
By Alejandro de Gutierre5 years ago in Families
"The Road We Travel"
In my recent article, "The Truth of Being a Survivor" I spoke about what it means to me to be a survivor. This has been put to the test this past week which pushed my internal boundaries and brought up many memories of what I went through. So I would like to say to anyone reading this, "it is never ok to abuse someone. It is not your fault if they do. No matter what they say you did not deserve it and there is no excuse for it." I saved myself and was able to escape my abuser. It was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life and definitely the scariest. I can honestly say leaving the situation creates an insurmountable fear inside of you that keeps you numb to the pain and almost too paralyzed to leave. I endured for 5 years before I finally found the strength to escape from it. For the past 2 years, I have been "free from the situation" but I have not truly been free. The memories haunt me. The flashbacks threaten to drown out the present. And along with these is a nagging type of paranoia. "Am I truly safe?" "Will he find me?" "What happens if he does find me?" It takes a long time to practice telling yourself you are safe and they cannot come after you. But what about the abusers who still are given access to us? Parents or family members, who are not restricted from us? What happens to those of us who can only improve on our situation, but are never actually saved? How do we overcome our fear? How do we find a sense of safety? I do not have the answers to any of these questions. I am still working on how to do this for myself and for my children. But I do know this, it is absolutely vital to the healing process that we have a safe environment. That means being safe physically, emotionally, mentally, and psychologically. All of these create an environment in which we can design a semblance of safety, for ourselves and others. For my children and me, this means talking about our experience and not hiding it. For me especially, I need to vocalize what I went through in order to heal from it. Hiding the details does not promote healing inside. So tonight, I wish to share my last and most recent abusive situation with my ex-husband. While I was visiting his family in another state, I was denied the ability to speak with my oldest son for months on end. I did not hear from him or see him and I began to worry about him. My ex-husband made a joke one night that if something happened to him and he died, his dad likely would not tell me since we weren't on speaking terms. While I did not believe him at first, I looked into it and when I called the state that my son was currently living in, I was told by the records department they did indeed have a child who was the same age as my son who had passed away recently. In order to determine if it was my son, I had to send a copy of his social and birth certificate and the city he lived in. It took 3 grueling months before I received an answer: it did not match the deceased child. This was the night after my ex-husband assaulted me and I broke down calling my son's dad and demanding to speak with him. My son got on the phone and the moment he said hello to me I cannot explain the amount of relief that flooded through me. I burst into tears, trying to hide it from him. This is the same son who has not been with me for the past 6 years and I cannot begin to say how much pain this has caused me and how much I miss him every moment of every day. The emotional torture of this particular instance is not one I share easily, but tonight I feel like I need to finally get it off my chest and speak about it. I know I am not the only one who has experienced something as traumatic and manipulating as this. Abusers will literally say and do anything to hurt us. It is up to us to pave the way to healing and find our way out of the darkness. For me, that road is me fighting for my son, no matter how that may look. It is finding small ways to help all of us feel safe and always know that we are loved. It is talking about what we went through. It is finding the courage to find that fear and overcome it. Tonight, I feel like a weight has been lifted off and I will continue to fight. Every moment of every day, I will fight. Tonight, I feel brave inside. Tonight this is who I am.
By marion scott5 years ago in Families
Meet me Underneath the Pear Tree
Not long after she arrived she watched him ride off in the distance. She waited too long. She felt as though a wave had crashed over her, her entire world stopped spinning and she was left motionless. She stood there holding her ever growing belly while the rain poured down upon her, her wet hair slowly fell upon her face. Leaning against the Pear tree she slid down and held her knees, looking, willing, and hoping that he could sense that she was here. That she was right here where they agreed they’d meet. She sat until she couldn’t stand the cold wet clothes clinging to her body.
By Nichole Ailshire5 years ago in Families
Margaret Don't Forget The Marigolds
I always loved flowers, any kind. any which way. I thought they were peaceful and beautiful, and for some reason my Mum was not so much into them. Mum actually could not stand if someone sent her a bouquet of flowers for a special occasion.
By Margaret Deighan5 years ago in Families
The Illusion of Time
Mr. Durvey hurriedly put on his coat and hat, caught up his wallet and threw open the door. Your keys! Don’t forget your keys! His mind chided him, as he was just in the act of flying into the street. Shaking his head and checking his watch at the same time that he bounded back up the steps, he made a dash back toward the coat rack, where his keys resided. He paused, just in the act of leaving again. Be back in time for supper. Susan will want you, his mind chided him. He hesitated.
By Erica Nicolay5 years ago in Families
The Ice Rink Dream
It was a cold snowy day in January, the water in the iceskating rink in Jan's back yard had turned into solid ice. She smiled to herself excited about getting her family together to ice skate. It was one of the many things on her bucket list. She had three children, two boys and a girl and two of her children had children which gave her three grandchildren, two girls and a boy. She loved. her son-in-law and daughter-in-law just as much as she loved her own kids. It was so wonderful to her to see how her kids had grown and into what type of people they had become. Now with her grandchildren she could see resemblances of her kids in them. They made her smile, each of them unique and special in their own way.
By L.A. Kirchheimer 5 years ago in Families
Sinner
Sinner Imagine, you really thought only other people would answer for your sins. That crack you gave your youngest lad because he was ten minutes late home from the party. The shame he felt and the laughter you bellowed, when you didn’t realise his mates had come home with him, but they had. Yes indeed they had, and they saw your brutality and shared his shame. Said youngest son flees again. Flees to his bedroom to escape your brutality as you shout after him, “You knew the time I had set you. You are eighteen now, old enough to tell the time.” And then you laugh.
By Simon Morrell5 years ago in Families
