parents
The boundless love a parent has for their child is matched only by their capacity to embarrass them.
Sledding, Hot Coco, and Mint Melt-Aways
My relationship with my dad has always been…complicated. On the one hand, he has done so much for our family. For years, he has worked at a job that he despises to provide for us. He’s always there for all my achievements, and he, along with my mom, comforts me when I’m sad. I’ll never forget how he held me while I held my six-year-old dog, a dog I had raised from four weeks old who was dying of lymphoma, as we waited to take him to the vet to put him out of his misery. On the other hand, my dad has had more than his fair share of issues. His temper is volatile. My childhood is wrought with memories of him punching walls, slamming doors, and throwing things. So much broke when I was younger that I now can’t bear to let go of anything or even let anyone else handle my stuff. And the swearing. I’m surprised I didn’t grow a sailor’s mouth sooner than I did. He’s never physically hurt anyone, but the emotional toll on my mom and me has been horrific and life-altering. My older brothers either didn’t witness the worst of it (they’re six and seven years older than I), have so warped a memory that they don’t remember it, or somehow justify it.
By Stephanie Hoogstad2 years ago in Families
Like Father, Like Daughter
I know that a lot of kids out there think their dad is the best, I mean there’s a reason the phrases ‘Number One Dad’ or ‘World’s Greatest Dad’ have become the cornerstones of Father’s Day. I’ll happily admit that I’m no different than anyone else since my dad was always a source of fun and laughter. Somehow he always knew just what you needed to make you giggle, even through tears.
By Cassandra Flores2 years ago in Families
A Step Back to Childhood
I am a 33-year-old married woman who is currently living in her father's basement, playing D&D and Magic the Gathering on weekends. At a glance, you may question my life choices, but let me take a minute to explain my story to you and how I came to be a full-grown adult living in my father's basement.
By Cally Trandell2 years ago in Families
Trial and Error in Fatherhood
Big, worn out hands. A towering figure that provides both safety and comfort, yet commands authority. A tone of voice that can be inviting, or corrective. "Dad" is a term that many can relate to happily. The man we look up to, modeling our behavior and decisions, sometimes after they're long gone.
By Dustin Jessip2 years ago in Families
Hey Dad,
The rattle of your keys in the door sent us sprinting up the stairs. We had all been perched on the edge of the couch waiting. Tripping over each other we threw ourselves into whatever piece of you we could grab onto. It didn’t matter that we were 17, 14, and 10. In that moment we were your children. Your terrified children. Age held no bearing on our behavior. It did not matter that we knew you had not made it into the city that day. That you were on the train as the second plane hit, and were immediately turned around to head home. You had missed your normal train that morning, having been caught up saving someone else. You weren’t just our hero, you volunteered to be everyone’s hero. So as that train pulled back into our small town, your day was far from over. You marched right back out with your crew to take in dozens and dozens being ferried across the river, providing aid, comfort and refuge.
By Gina Landrigan2 years ago in Families
The Story of my Dad
I often think the interesting thing about parents is their children only know one part of who they are. I guess that could be said of most relationships really, but parents have had this whole life before their children exist and they have been many things to others before they are a parent…..they’re a son or daughter, perhaps a brother or sister, a friend, a niece or nephew, maybe a husband or wife or an aunt or uncle. My dad was no exception, and had many titles before he was called Dad, and yet, despite this whole other life I know him only as he appears to me….my father.
By Liz Fletcher 2 years ago in Families
My Father across the street.
when you hear the word “Father” what comes to your mind? For me when I was younger when I heard the word father I didn’t really think anything about it. But when you take the time to think about what fathers do for us in this world, you can’t do anything but be grateful. What is a father? Is it someone that you are just related to? No of course not, today I’m here to tell you about my father that I didn’t know for a while. Growing up my biological father was never in my life, I always had my mom so when I heard the word “father”, it didn’t make me angry I just didn’t felt it applied to me. When I was Growing up I stayed across from this retired veteran, His name was Joe. Joe would always come over and play the game with me, he brought me and my siblings food and he was always there for us whenever we needed him. Now at the time I didn’t really think of Joe as a father figure and that was just because of what my idea of a father figure was. My first time learning how to weld, drive a car, and even something as simple as just pumping gas was all taught to me by Joe. I remember going into highscool I just wasn’t right mentally, I hated school and I never had to many friends. For my junior everyone took a trip to the beach, and I wanted to go really bad but we couldn’t afford to pay the trip so I wasn’t able to go, a couple of the guys from school heard about how I couldn’t afford to go and the whole school clowned me for weeks when I started school back. I was so angry and upset, words couldn’t describe how I felt, I started to skip school, not do my work , and party. That was until Joe had found out about what happened and he came to me and he told me that if you want to be happy in life you have to be grateful for the things you have now, he told me you’ll never be happy in life with greed because you’ll just want more and more. And when he told me that I just felt so relieved because I didn’t have to feel like I had to have something or do something just because someone else has it or does it. I listened to what Joe told me and he suggested that I do stuff for other people, wether it’s helping a elderly with groceries or giving a homeless person some food. As I started to become more grateful for the things that I had life had gotten a lot better. One Sunday Joe would always come over to watch the game, and we would talk about life and dream goals. One of the things that I always wanted to do at that time was to get on a airplane and travel. Joe Asked me how I felt about traveling still, I told him that I’m still going to do it, but now im grateful for just the small things in life like food, family, and just to be alive. When I told him that he grabbed his Bible and he told me to open it, as I opened it I realized that there was a plane ticket to Hawaii. I’ve always wanted to go there but I was so confused as to why it was there because he was older and had said he’s done all the traveling he’s going to do. I asked him “what is this “? He said your plane ticket to Hawaii. I asked him how long he has this for and he told me since before my trip I was supposed to go on. I asked him why didn’t you tell me you had it? He told me son you weren’t happy because you weren’t content with what you had. You needed to be taught to be grateful and now you can enjoy your trip the right way. And when he told me that it just really hit me because that has literally changed my whole life, fathers do so much for us that we miss the small things. I encourage all of you to take the time and tell the father figure of your life thank you.
By Themessenger2 years ago in Families
The Hero that never got tired
Eric Moses Sanchez was his name born 4/6/1971. This man was my dad and all i can say is what a man. He weighed 364 pounds and was 5'11 and always said he was 6 foot! Remembering him is like remembering your favorite pie during thanksgiving feast. I get butterflies remembering his warmth and love that he gave all of us.
By Siamese R.2 years ago in Families
Who Would Be A Father!
If I could explain my relationship with my dad in a concise, coherent way, I wouldn't have anything to explain. Whatever we have is storied, our parallel growth knotted. We are, in a word, complicated, but that is not the tale I am here to tell.
By Lyndon Beier2 years ago in Families