immediate family
Blood makes you related, loyalty makes you family.
The Grief of Parental Childishness
The Grief of Parental Childishness: Investigating Its Causes and Tracking down Arrangements Chapter-by-chapter guide:
shailendra meshramPublished 29 days ago in Familieshow to be a good father: 8 tips to be a good dad
What does it mean to be a good dad? According to Gilles Vaquier de Labaume, being a good dad means, above all, having knowledge about the different stages of child development to better respond to their needs according to their age. Being a good dad involves knowing how to adapt your way of communicating with a baby, dedicating exclusive and quality moments to them, ensuring first that you are willing to live that moment of sharing with them.
Paths of LovePublished about a month ago in FamiliesThe Ultimate Betrayal Pt.1
The Betrayal That Cracked Our Family Like a Boom Whumpf! The news landed in my inbox like a sack of bricks. A text from my cousin, Sarah, a jumble of words that sent a cold dread slithering down my spine. My Great-Grandma Millie, the woman who dispensed wisdom alongside slices of her legendary pecan pie, was in a nursing home. The worry gnawed at me, a persistent buzz in my brain. But what came next was a revelation that would crack the foundation of our family like a** boom.**
Taeja WilliamsPublished about a month ago in FamiliesNurturing Minds, Shaping Futures
From the first tender moments of holding a newborn to navigating the tumultuous waters of adolescence, parenting encompasses a myriad of roles and responsibilities. It's a delicate balance of love, guidance, and discipline, shaped by both cultural norms and individual philosophies. As society evolves and new challenges emerge, the landscape of parenting continues to shift, demanding adaptability and resilience from caregivers.
Kalu ClintonPublished about a month ago in FamiliesTeaching Our Kids the Value of Less
Kids usually want things all the time, and they emphasize it with “right now”. They live in the moment and express their every wish.
Gabriela Trofin-TatárPublished about a month ago in FamiliesThe Ultimate Betrayal Pt.2
Dust Motes in a Silent Symphony Dust motes danced a jig in the neglected sunlight creeping through Grandma's dusty windows. Silence pressed down heavy, a stark contrast to the woman who once filled this space with booming laughter and the soul-warming scent of her legendary buttermilk biscuits. Grief threatened to drown me, but beneath the sorrow, a spark flickered to life. My firecracker of a grandma, a woman who'd stared down dust storms and Depression-era hardships with a withering look, wouldn't have gone gentle into that good night. Neither would I.
Taeja WilliamsPublished about a month ago in FamiliesDear Mother
Dear Mother, In the solemn stillness of my thoughts, I reach out through this letter, a vessel for the words that weigh heavily upon my soul. What can I say, Mother? The words 'I love you' from your lips often come shrouded in the aftermath of scolding, their warmth lost in the chill of discipline.
Discoveryng DepthsPublished about a month ago in FamiliesPraying for Miracles and Saying Goodbye
Twelve hours can change everything. On November 12th, 2019, my mom passed away from complications caused by CLL(Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia). After 22 months with CLL, she had one bad day. One bad day, twelve hours in the hospital, and then she left to meet her heavenly Father and see the face of Jesus. Fourteen days later it still seems so hard to believe that everything changed so fast. How did we get from a diagnosis with a chronic condition to saying good-bye?
Dawn BeauchampPublished about a month ago in Families545 West 125th Street
Summer nights at 545 were usually sweltering, noisy, and buzzing with activity. From the vantage point of our second-floor fire escape, we were always privy to what went on below. Our neighbors, mostly Antilleans, looking to escape the heat of their small, non-airconditioned apartments, would come downstairs as soon as the sun set to sit in what they hoped would be the cool New York City night air and find some respite. I, for one, always marveled at the range of materials they would bring down to sit on. Some would bring a beach chair or two. Others would borrow milk crates from the bodega next door. Still, others would find a spot on the front stoop of our building on 125th Street in West Harlem, often blocking the entrance but graciously moving out of the way as others came in and out. My earliest memory of home is this tenement building and community. I lived there with my family for my first 12 years, and we always called the building by its number - 545.
Margaret JimenezPublished about a month ago in FamiliesA Trip of Light: The Narrative of Martha Agnes
Stepping off her small bed and pulling a bulky cardigan over her nightgown, Lena headed towards the top of the narrow, steep staircase that led from the attic bedroom to the kitchen below. She listened intently, trying to make out the quiet voices coming from the lower level.
lahsen ezahouaniPublished about a month ago in FamiliesA Childhood Lost, a Love Denied
My childhood memories are a tapestry woven with loneliness, a stark contrast to the carefree joy most children experience. Simple pleasures like playing in the mud or by the creek resulted in harsh punishments. Toys, meant for exploration and imagination, were kept pristine on display shelves, untouchable.
Rebecca Lynn IveyPublished about a month ago in FamiliesNotes on my first public appearance.
Photo by Redd F on Unsplash It felt weird to not write anything of consequence last week, after consistently writing for eleven weeks now (this is my twelfth, which feels like a milestone of sorts.) It was nice to just be present, to enjoy the time exploring San Diego with my husband, and to just check out from things for a few days, but it still felt weird, and I felt a little bit guilty. I don’t know where the guilt came from since I don’t technically owe anyone anything, I don’t have an editor or a deadline, and my two-piece a week goal is strictly for myself, but maybe it is because I felt like I was letting myself down a bit or not taking my weekly steps to doing this professionally or reaching my goals. Maybe I just felt like I was letting all of my five paid subscribers down by not providing content that they paid for (even though my five paid subscribers are my mom, my dad, my sister, my aunt and my husband and I think they would all forgive me and still love me even if I never wrote another thing ever again- but seriously, how do I get more paid subscriptions here?!) Maybe I just am taking this journey seriously because I want it so badly, and taking a week off feels like I’m not applying myself. But here I am, and I feel rested, my brain feels fresh, it is the astrological New Year, so onward we go, and it feels like things are about to get much, much easier, even if I don’t quite know how yet.
Morgan LongfordPublished about a month ago in Families