Top Stories
Stories in Families that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Memories of my Parents
It has been said that a picture is worth one thousand words. As I look at this picture which was taken in 1979 at our home in Sedgewick in our living room one Sunday afternoon after dinner.
Lorne VanderwoudePublished 2 years ago in FamiliesWhat I learned while writing my dad's eulogy
Dad dying came as a shock to us all. In truth, all of us, Mom included, thought that Mom would have died first. Dad had been diabetic for about 30 years, but he’d managed it, went for regular check-ups, and was relatively fit. But we didn’t know he had heart disease, or that he’d had a previous heart attack (apparently, he didn’t know that one either). So, when he went for a motorbike ride with his buddies that January day, he didn’t come home.
Seminole Wind
My parents' divorce was final when I was around 5 years old. I remember bursting into tears when my mom told me, even though I think the only thing I knew about it all was that everything was going to be different.
Anna BoisvertPublished 2 years ago in FamiliesOn Having A Child With A Rare Condition
First off, I want to say the child in this picture is my nearly 9 year old son Cody. He loves animals, music, playing with toys, being outside, watching TV, and sometimes watching a movie.
Pestis DeathbirdPublished 2 years ago in FamiliesOn the Other Side of Fear
I’ve always been a chicken, but I rarely give in to my fear. I guess I get that from my father. As I stood in line for the newest roller coaster at Busch Gardens in Williamsburg last week, my idea for this challenge piece came to mind.
Jennifer ChristiansenPublished 2 years ago in FamiliesAnarchy In Slow Motion
During some of the most turbulent years of his life, Bart Lynn Howell and his friend, Shane, were siphoning gas out of the tanks of cars on their block with a rubber hose and a gas can. Was this altogether intelligent? Probably not considering these two were not unknown in their tiny hometown of Fort Dodge, Iowa, and they were both high on some substance, and more than a little giddy from swallowing some of the fuel they were trying to steal.
Ashley McGeePublished 2 years ago in FamiliesSunday Afternoon in Hyde Park
In 1975, my father took a Sunday stroll along the stone pathways of Hyde Park in London. A crisp fall day, Speaker’s Corner was in full swing. People shouted from soapboxes. Gathering crowds heckled back. Children ran through the open fields with pinwheels. The grass was so green that my father believed he had stepped into a picture from a traveling book. A young man in his early twenties fresh out of college and looking to make a name for himself as a singer/songwriter in London, the experience was so moving that he penned a song that changed the trajectory of his life. Forty some odd years later, I walk the same pathways to find the places my father sang about to understand how I am like him.
W. Tyler PatersonPublished 2 years ago in FamiliesThe developmental process of infant intelligence
When our daughter little Dawnxi was first born, she would occasionally grasp what we put in her hand, perhaps this was called "the grasping reflex" and was unconscious. She smiled, which we thought may also be unconscious. Little Dawnxi spent most of the first month of his life sleeping, except for breastfeeding, and at about 1 month of age, little Dawnxi began to smile, initially during light sleep and then, when older, during sleep. At 2 to 3 months of age, little Dawnxi responded quickly and in a coordinated manner to our voices. She would smile at us when we called out to her.
Dawnxisoul393Published 2 years ago in FamiliesOur Last Summer Together
The days of summer in the year of 2003 felt different in ways I can’t explain. The innocence and the love were pure in the purest way possible. It was also the second last summer that I had spent with my father when he was alive. I could trade a hundred summers to live that one summertime all over again or maybe just over and over again. I can’t really be someone who could speak of a million childhood memories with their fathers. I only own a few and even that with no entirety but only glimpses. From those couple of memories, I have a really sweet memory with my father. A memory that I will always cherish.
Mashal HaroonPublished 2 years ago in FamiliesSunburnt Sprinkles
We rode bikes down sloped lawns into flooded streets, hitting the water with the tenacity of kamikaze pilots. We waged wars with squirt guns in worlds that didn’t exist, with battle lines drawn in the sunburnt driveways of Merritt Island, Florida. My summers were bright, magical, and long, yawning wide through the eyes of a child.
Sean KernanPublished 2 years ago in Families- Runner-Up in Dads Are No Joke Challenge
Through the Candyman’s Yellow Smile
“Just push it a little further,” my grandfather tells me, “Until the shift reaches the letter D.” “Ok,” I tell him, my little awkward fingers wrapped around the contours of the car’s automatic stick shift, its cracked and dried leather scratching and clawing the smooth grooves in my fingers.
What it was like growing up in the 80s
There are so many things that kids know nothing about, things I grew up on or people that grew up before the 90s. I think it was a fun time growing up. Things were not like they were today, and not as dangerous, at least where I live.
Kerrie G.DiazPublished 2 years ago in Families