immediate family

Blood makes you related, loyalty makes you family.

Francesca Foote
When I awake in the morning, sometime around 5 a.m., I rub my feet before leaving bed. They hasten even slower than I do these days, so I must soothe them, like newborn puppies, before I slip them into my house shoes. I massage each toe, curled with arthritis. They aren’t what they used to be, but I still keep up with them. My niece and I get pedicures every other Saturday.
By Amanda Woodard6 years ago in Families
What It Was Like Growing Up With Working Parents
My mom was working 40–50 hours a week at a retail store and my dad was working 60 hours at another. They were making good money and grinding, they were doing what they had to do to get through. However, those facts do not make it easier for a child. It does not create a relationship where there seems to be none.
By Kate Rose6 years ago in Families
The Magical Notebook
I was clearing off my last table of the night when I found a little black notebook hiding underneath a napkin. It was a classic Italian leather-bound hardcover notebook. It had an elastic closure, smooth rounded corners, and a matching black bookmark ribbon tucked inside crisp ivory pages, along with a convenient pocket in the back of the book. It was actually quite beautiful and very simply elegant.
By Melanie Rose6 years ago in Families
In Your Blood and Bones
You and your soul are as much a part of this landscape as the mountains, sky, and prairie grass. That's where home is. It's in your blood, in your bones. It'll always be there; even though people and places come and go, it comes with you. Never forget that. - mom
By Lea Shaw6 years ago in Families
Gifted Strings
My phone chimed as I drove. Most often, it says, “Potential Spam,” and I’ve come to not over stress when I hear it ring. Because I own a business, my phone number exists in the world rather readily, and with that comes extra spam calls. Not this time. On the little magnetic clip over the air vent, my phone said, “Aunt Carol.” Man. I love catching up with my Aunt Carol! But, I was nearly to my student’s house and knew I’d need to let it go to voicemail and call her back later.
By Elizabeth Hunter6 years ago in Families
Farming and Family
There's a feeling of coming home as I drive into the farmyard, whether it's the family farmyard where my grandparents lived, or the farmyard I grew up running around. There's a sense of purity and freedom that comes with rural life. Knowing that your work with the soil, or your care for the livestock, produces the food that the world needs to survive helps you gain perspective on the bigger picture of life.
By Valerie Jean6 years ago in Families
What I see is Unreal
Ever since I can remember, I’ve been hard on myself. I’ve always had high expectations but they never seem to last too long, which is nice. I get excited, I fizzle out, I reflect inward, inflict psychoanalytic pain, forget, and repeat. It’s tiresome, cyclical, and above all else, entirely of my own imagination.
By Daniel Hicks6 years ago in Families
Savage Daughter
I am my mother's savage daughter The one who runs barefoot Cursing sharp stones I am my mother's savage daughter I will not cut my hair
By Yvonne6 years ago in Families
The Little Back Book
There was a girl named Alexis who lived with her grandmother in California. When Alexis was a little girl she used to go to the carnival where she met a clown named Davis. Alexis liked Davis because he would create the cutest balloons for her. Davis asked Alexis to wait a second while he ran to his car to grab a gift for her. It was a little black notebook. He said, "Whatever you do. Do not open this until you turn 18." Alexis smiled and gave
By Kaneshia Hines6 years ago in Families
Hope
It had been 50 years since Hope had been home. Her hair was grayer now, and she had a few lines around her eyes, mouth and on her forehead. What had drawn her back home, she was a mystery. All she knew was she needed to come home and to see the old homestead. It wasn't much a homestead really, more like an old broken down shack.
By Karen Smith6 years ago in Families
I'm not a bad daughter.
My supposedly healthy relationship with my parents was always dependent on me not knowing any better. I realized that when they’d continuously bring up how quiet and docile I was as a little girl, “always so willing to listen,” my dad would say, looking at me as though I was no longer someone he knew or someone he was proud of.
By Sam 6 years ago in Families
Leonardo
”Wakey, wakey lazy girls.” “Ugh! Leo let us sleep.” “C’mon Caitlyn. You and Dorothy do this every time.” “We only do it because you punk out each time. By the way, you’re always the one who suggests these ‘camping trips’ so it’s even more your fault.”
By kim cruz6 years ago in Families