Top Stories
Stories in Families that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Grieving a Living Parent: Week One
The first week was hard. I spent most of my time this week trying to do self-care and find new people to share my news and updates with. That used to be my dad. Hours and hours spent on the phone when he was driving a truck. We talked almost every day and I thought our relationship was something it was never going to be. I've never let my mother very close because of her behaviors in times gone by - and her unwillingness to address them in a way that is helpful and healing to either of us. So it was just trying to move on from the relationships I thought I was having with them.
Inaya JaynePublished 2 years ago in Families- First Place in Dads Are No Joke Challenge
That April
“Take my air, take my lungs, my heart and my liver,” I prayed. There were mornings that April where time sped up, and I couldn’t keep up. What followed was a soundtrack of crashing and yelling and pulses keeping beat with the chaos. Tick-tick, tick-tick, tick-tick. Fragments of movements mixed with slow motion falls and quick-thinking recalls. The latter always followed by defeated phone calls.
Christina HunterPublished 3 years ago in Families When a game's more than a game
My daughter recently turned 18 and is on the eve of her 10-year-anniversary of being diagnosed with Type-1 diabetes. She was just 8-years-old when her (and our family's world) was turned upside down, and it's hard to believe that she's lived now with the disease longer than she hasn't.
Cheryl WrayPublished 2 years ago in FamiliesRebranding World Breastfeeding Week
August 1st to 7th is World Breastfeeding Week, but I have a bit of a bone to pick with it. I think it is in desperate need of a rebrand. An image upgrade, if you will.
Emily the Period RDPublished 2 years ago in FamiliesThings Father and Daughter did in the 80s.
Back in the 80's life was so different. I lived in the country at this time with my family. I was the youngest. One older sister and one older brother. Me being the youngest I was daddy's little girl.
Kerrie G.DiazPublished 2 years ago in FamiliesThree Little Birds
I watched my daughter, barely two days old, lay lifeless on the hospital table in front of us, struggling to breathe. “We need to get a spinal tap ASAP.” the paramedic shouted to the ER surgeon. I cried, paralyzed at that moment, praying harder than I ever have in my life. “Please, don’t let her die.” Please, don’t let her die.”
Kathryn MahoneyPublished 2 years ago in FamiliesWhat it Really Meant to Grow Up
When I was born, it was about ten years after my parents had been in a house fire that very nearly destroyed my entire family. My parents, who had both come from large families, had envisioned having five or six children themselves, but until this point, had the one-- my older brother. I can’t imagine it was easy for him, nearly 12 years old, to suddenly go from hitting all his developmental milestones as an only child, but, there you go, it was September, 1984, and I made my debut, into a weird little family that had been waiting for another baby for a long, long time.
Rachel CollinsPublished 2 years ago in FamiliesBrothers
I grew up on an Arkansas farm where we raised pigs. I enjoyed living in the country and our house was nestled in a valley where the same dirt road that led you in was the same dirt road that led you out. It was generally a quiet place and from anywhere in the valley, even though you couldn’t see the vehicle, you could hear it quite distinctly as it traveled down the big hill into the valley. The sound of the tires rolling across the dirt sending up pings of gravel into the bottom of the car or the wheel well.
Return of the Stay-at-Home Dad
My daughter’s mother, my ex, died. The funeral was to happen in 48 hours. I scrambled to find the quickest way back to Minnesota from Bali, Indonesia. I told my daughter to do her best with the funeral arrangements until I arrived.
Arlo HenningsPublished 2 years ago in FamiliesNatural and Normal: Not Gender Specific
I always knew this day would come, and I honestly always knew how I would react to this situation. My dad would be livid with me if he was still alive, but I surprisingly don't give a shit. The majority of my family members would reactively respond as well, and something small and unproblematic would be escalated to an insane and ridiculous level. However, I don't have a problem with it and I don't care. They could list off examples of what one small action is going to do to "damage" my child's psyche, but it won't happen.
E.L. MartinPublished 2 years ago in FamiliesCan We Drop the Evil Mother-in-Law Trope Already?
She is the stuff that nightmares are made of. A creature so fearsome that she is the butt of jokes at weddings, a prediction of the woman we are all terrified of becoming. The mother-in-law.
Nicole CorreiaPublished 2 years ago in FamiliesThe Pearl Necklace
I remember back in the 80s, when I was a girl, my mother bought her first "real" pearl necklace. She was so excited. She was a homemaker for most of her life. She never had her own money, never had a job, never had a feeling of independence. She was always at home taking care of her children. When I turned 12, this all changed.
Kristi FlowersPublished 2 years ago in Families