Stories in Families that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Words Are The Most Priceless Gift We Can Give
Creative Paralysis The last time I saw my dad alive, I was writing my first-ever Vocal story for the Behind the Beat challenge. I’ve replayed the night over and over thousands of times in my head. If I knew it was the last time I would ever see him, I would have hugged him and held on. I would have told him how grateful I was for the love he gave me in a million different ways …
Repurposed with Love
Checking the mail It wasn’t that long ago that I fell in love with a widowed gentleman. He would check his mail “to see if anybody loved” him, and would return smiling, even if it was only a bill waiting in the box. This gripped me, for I had long loved greeting cards, and bought them randomly over a period of years if they were pretty or amusing or unique. I bought the ones that made me feel something, and that I could imagine others would like. My collection was a reflection of part of me. I bought the cards, yet there had been no reason, no purpose or person in mind other than to recapture the feeling it had given to me the first time I saw it or read it.
A Quilt of Memories
“Mom? Dad?” Sam and Kate’s faces look serious as my husband, Ken, and I peer at them over Zoom. “You know how much we love you, but we just don’t think it’s safe to travel. We think you should cancel your trip.”
Lurlyne and the Amazing Technicolor Quilt Coat
My jaw hit the floor the first time I saw a quilt coat. A friend, and fellow crafter, sent me a photo of a bright and beautiful patchwork quilt made into a knee length coat. I was enraputred. How cool! How retro! How could I have lived this long without my own?!
Gramma Lives On
When I think back on my life, and my childhood, it seems that crocheting has always been a part of it. One of my grandmother’s was a knitter, and the other a crochetter, and I remember being quite young when I was drawn to that single hook. Now, I am not so sure if it was the actual art of crocheting that enticed me, or time spent with my Gramma –side by side on the couch as she showed me how to start. I was only 9-years-old when I first felt the cool touch of that stainless steel hook; and although I spent many years making long chains, or the odd dish cloth, my skills have grown exponentially since then.
A Seamless Legacy
We never forget those who taught us to sew. In a way, it’s like learning to manifest your creativity. Being handed the keys to unleash your imagination. Liberation in the form of fabric and thread.
A Gift of Presence
Every person has a certain kind of love language. Some show their love through touch, others through their words. Some show it through gifts while others show it through actions. My mother’s love language is presence. Being there. Showing her support by showing up.
The 3 Lessons I Learned at 24
I always thought that I had a pretty good grasp of who my mom is. My mom, or Judy as I may reference her, is the woman who cries at just about everything - movies, videos of puppies, and of course, any proud moment with her children. She is the woman who drove across the country by herself so that she could see what else was outside of her tiny town in West Virginia. She is the woman who still dances around the kitchen like a professional if I turn music on and the woman who plays every single instrument when I put on "Who Loves You" by The Four Seasons. Trust me, that's a performance you don't want to miss. She is still all of these things, but as a woman who has always shown me her strongest, most hardworking side, I learned who my mother truly was in 2019.
Five Questions to Ask Yourself Before Becoming A Foster Parent
I’ve been a foster parent for five years, which is both longer than many foster parents last in the system, and a drop in a very big bucket. My partner and I have seen over a dozen kids through our home, some only for one night, and some for months at a time. With every kid, I’ve learned more than I ever thought my brain or my heart could hold.
How Heavy Is the Burden You Carried Mother?
If you meet my mother today, she is a little old lady. At first glance, she looks very much like the other little ladies in her senior residency.
When Life Gives You Lemons, Make a Dress
My mother clears the dining room table. The centerpiece goes to the buffet. The candles move to the foyer. The stacks of papers are placed on chairs. I lay out the fabric on the wide expanse of the now-empty table. The smooth jersey is soft and yielding in my hands, pleasantly thick, but not overly so. The pattern is lemons: simple, big, bold yellow lemons. Here and there, deep green stems and leaves bloom between the fruit.
Love, Loss, and Purpose in the NICU
When I speak of my NICU experience, sometimes I am brushed off. Why? Because my NICU experience wasn’t a long one. It can make others uncomfortable.