Families
Family relationships, in all their complicated glory. Families explores the intricacies of being parents, siblings, mentors, and friends.
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Top Stories
Stories in Families that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
The Llama & Koala
Story & Illustrations © ‘For our Kids Someday’ It has been raining cats and dogs, the skys’ been nothing but gray, our
Jay KantorPublished 18 days ago in FamiliesDear Mom
Dear Mom (An open letter to my 1950’s mother) By: De Etta Miller Dear Mom, I’m not sure if this letter is for you or for me. But decades after your leaving, I feel the need to say: “I’m sorry.” I don’t know that I even believe in Heaven. I can only assume, that which was taught throughout my childhood might have some validity. Perhaps we all find the truth of our afterlife when it is indeed time for an afterlife. But what I do know and believe in, is how hard and yet delightful motherhood can be.
DeEtta MillerPublished about a month ago in FamiliesStars in My Pockets
The La-Z-boy chair was burgundy. Carefully selected to meet my mother’s needs of both comfort and stability, this chair had the added bonus of also matching the living room. There came a day when I couldn’t hug her for fear of hurting her, but I could lean into her by leaning into the chair’s cushions.
Lydia StewartPublished 2 months ago in FamiliesMy Oma, My Dragon of Memory
The last time I saw my Oma she was old, small, tired, and in pain; lying in an oversized chair, wrapped in blankets with a cast on her arm and two nurses at her side. I remember placing my hand upon her and saying "goodbye Oma, I love you." I didn't plan on it being the last time. 4 hrs later I got a phone call. She had passed away in her sleep, just minutes after I had left. This is the last image of her that I hold in my mind. But that was far from all of her.
Effervescence
Gma shows me how to fold paper napkins, fives, and socks into the brown paper bags we bring to the park to leave for the forest of sleeping bags.
Christy MunsonPublished 2 months ago in FamiliesReturn 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 months ago in FamiliesTiny pink shoes
The drive home from the hospital was quiet, I always pictured this day differently. We had so much to say but we kept the thoughts to ourselves, as if it was taboo to speak. I wanted to say something and nearly do, when I glance at her she is looking elsewhere.
Dear Dad
I've been contemplating if the last few months have been the hardest of my life. They haven’t, but they come pretty fucking close. You of all people would know what a poignant statement that is.
Sian N. CluttonPublished 2 months ago in Families
Collections
Themed story collections curated by the Vocal moderators.
Kids Say the Darndest Things
The unfiltered truths from the fruits of our loins. And the creepiest things they've ever said. Help?
Parenting Wars
Do or do not - there is no try. The ins and outs of one of the most difficult jobs on earth: parenting.
Nature vs. Nurture
What plays into our humanity? Nature vs. Nurture – how two factors affect one individual.
Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
- Runner-Up in The Dragon Beside Me Challenge
Parting With the Dark Cloud
I was in Mrs. Seymour’s fourth grade class. I was the quiet student. I was smart, but I was respectful which made me appear to be meek and shy. I had never been in trouble at school or, for that matter, even received “a look” from any teacher. Yes, I was that little girl - Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes!
Leslie StavenPublished about 2 hours ago in Families Somehow, Someday
Outside is black, Daddy's not here. Outside is a sweet magnolia smelling place, Daddy's not here. Outside stars burst, fall, disappear, just like Daddy. I wait. I know, even if alone on the mattress on the floor he will be back; when the pink preludes the autumn sun's rising, Daddy will be here. I don't move; I don't sleep; I don't know how to call Mamma. Just when the orange, pink and yellow mix into hues I will paint someday Daddy comes in and falls onto the mattress. He said- "hey little Bird". I smell something stinky, his hair is thinning and it's longer on one side than the other. It's a red brown and I wipe it away from his sunken, deep sleep eyes. I look at him, his belly rises in it's nakedness and falls; he is covered in reddish hair on his stomach and chest. I see his pants on the floor and sneak over to check the pockets; I found about three dollars and some change and put them in my suitcase which was packed for my trip back to Mamma before he ever came home. I take some pencils from the table, I smell his cologne by the old porcelain sink and I even put a dash behind my ears. He is snoring and red-faced. I can't see a clock anywhere and I begin to worry; How will I know when to get on that airplane back to Mamma? I quietly open the door from the third floor apartment and sneak downstairs to the big door that opens to the autumn skies. I see nothing but white frost on the big leaves, a squirrel or two scampering busily and look for anybody that can get me home. Sitting, cold and hungry a woman comes out of the apartment house to warm her car. She is a teacher and must start out early. She asks me what in the world I am doing sitting outside without a coat; " where is your daddy?" she pushes on. I said something like somehow he fell asleep and I think today I am supposed to go home to my Mamma. The woman has a scowl and ushers me inside. She takes me into her apartment and gives me a big glass of orange juice; she said she'd be right back. A fat black cat jumped up on the table and purred around me; the colours of morning made a dizzying dance upon her kitchen's stucco wall. I felt okay, not like a cry-baby, but not like a fix it alright kinda girl either. Then the door opened and there was Daddy with my suitcase with the teacher woman pushing him in toward me. His hair that I'd fixed had covered half of his face and he had tears in his small, blue eyes. He said he loved me and the teacher was helping me get to my plane on time, he cried a lot and held me too tight. I left him there, with three dollars and some change, a couple of pencils to cherish in my bag and I said nothing. I fled, I flew, I would return for no matter how much his drunken, lousy time with me was, it was all mine, at least for awhile. When I got back to Mamma I would never talk 'cause I guess something was wrong with me. I just said everything was fine. I guessed, somehow, someday truth would prevail: I never doubted that one day my Daddy would remember and say, "I'm sorry Little Bird." I truly believed with all my heart he would come to me and beg me to forgive him. Why do you think that is? I knew what goodness was; I was good. He wasn't doing good things so he had to know it was his obligation to give me some peace, right? Naw. He went on and kept finding more kids, more families, holding onto our pinkie swear, our father-daughter bond that could not be broken. He used me, to lie, to cheat, to steal, to be nothing more than his soldier. I saw those skies turning dark, deep blue, grey and black; I knew it was gonna be hard times coming for him, not once, not twice, not even three times, just more and more dark, with nobody to hear me. I would learn that my truth would not matter to him, or to any, but I would know the smell of his cologne behind my ears, the rise and fall of his chest when he came back as the sun rose, the sadness of his failure to give me, his beloved daughter all that I deserved. I don't know why anything matters, goodness, truth and love are always so contrite. I lay far away from the memories of youth, of Daddy's promises and forgotten love; I do feel the edge, the blisters from his sickness, yet, in an addictive way, I crave his praise. Somehow, someday, truth prevails. Or does it?
Exploring the Enchantment of Phe Phe Waterfalls: Nature's Majestic Symphony
Phe Phe Waterfalls, located in the serene landscapes of Meghalaya, India, is a hidden gem renowned for its natural beauty and tranquil surroundings. Nestled amidst lush greenery, this majestic waterfall offers visitors a captivating experience, allowing them to reconnect with nature and bask in its splendor.
dodlashaliniPublished about 9 hours ago in FamiliesHouse cleaning
For what reason would it be a good idea for us to focus on housekeeping at work? Enforcing housekeeping can reduce or eliminate hazards in the workplace. Episode lengthening routine housekeeping rehearsals are unfortunate. If the presence of paper, trash, filth, and spills is accepted as normal, then other, potentially more dangerous risks may be undervalued.
instructivePublished about 14 hours ago in FamiliesBabies Imaginary Friend!
In the realm of childhood innocence, imaginary friends often become cherished companions for little ones. For Emily, her imaginary friend was a mischievous sprite named Sprinkle. She first encountered Sprinkle in her grandmother's garden, where she stumbled upon a patch of shimmering light. From there, Sprinkle became Emily's constant companion, embarking on fantastical adventures.
Praveen PkPublished about 16 hours ago in FamiliesFinancial Comfort: A Mirage
Title: "The Great American Income Odyssey: Navigating Financial Realities with Wit and Wisdom" In the epic saga of the American Dream, the quest for financial comfort has taken a dramatic turn. Once upon a time, the coveted six-figure salary was the golden ticket to financial freedom. But alas, in today's topsy-turvy world, even those hauling in the big bucks find themselves paddling upstream in a river of bills.
bonita johnsonPublished about 19 hours ago in Families~Mother~
Mama, I see you. It took a long time but I see you. I can understand now. I got hurt because they hurt you. It doesn't make what was done right but that is the hard truth of generational trauma. We all are little children who need to feel loved, wanted, needed, accepted, and protected. When that doesn't happen for one reason or the other, that is when trauma comes into play. Our human minds can't accept the fact that someone who was supposed to love us, someone who was supposed to protect us has rejected us. We will forever question, why? What did we do to deserve this? It must be our fault somehow we assume. Most of the time, it is not about us but the person rejecting us and their past. The pain they felt; and rejection get projected onto someone else. The pain isn't meant to be shared but it has to come out some way and too often it comes out in the wrong way. This needs to end. We are all human; at the end of the day, we can only do our best. However, a genuine effort needs to be made to not pass this poison down the line to our children and the next generation. I'm personally working on my change and my truth. There are better outlets, more healthy outlets, than passing our anger, hatred, bitterness, and pain onto a loved one.
Lindsey AltomPublished a day ago in FamiliesGermGuardian Air Purifier
Comprehensive Review: GermGuardian Air Purifier In today's world, air quality is more important than ever. With pollutants, allergens, and other airborne particles lurking in our indoor environments, investing in an air purifier is a proactive step towards creating a healthier living space. One such air purifier that has been making waves in the market is the GermGuardian Air Purifier. In this detailed review, we'll delve into the features, performance, and overall effectiveness of this popular air purifier.
Creators We’re Loving
The creative faces behind your favorite stories.
Dana Crandell
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Eda Marie
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Heather Lunsford
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JBaz
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Carl J. Petersen
172 published stories
Rachel Deeming
348 published stories
D. A. Ratliff
68 published stories
Ash Taylor
36 published stories
Meredith Harmon
195 published stories
Leslie Writes
118 published stories
DeEtta Miller
32 published stories