grandparents

Becoming a grandparent makes getting older something to look forward to - all the fun of parenting, without the hassle.

The Others
Millicent Grace MacGregor was dead. Gracie’s favorite person was gone, and she’d left her with a strange message: “Find the others. Find the others, Gracie.” She’d gasped a final breath and closed her eyes.
By Adrienne Brunner Lewis5 years ago in Families
The Gift From Beyond
My uncle Bentley was a kind and gentle man. Bentley Buxton, apparently my grandfather loved expensive cars. I remember my uncle as a quiet and contented man the few times he came to visit when I was younger. My mother often said that when she was young, he would sit with her and patiently listen to her problems after she had a difficult day and he always made her feel better just for the listening. They had not seen each other in quite some time so when we got news of his death it was an understandable shock. He didn’t have any family of his own and he left everything to my mom. Today was the day that we were to go to his house to organize it’s final sale and go through his things so that mom could keep what she wanted and arrange for the rest of it to be either sold or given away. She asked me to come along to lend a hand and more than likely some emotional support as I am sure she knew it was going to be difficult for her. He was her only sibling and now it was just her. Her parents long gone now, she was what some might consider an orphan. I could tell that this was weighing heavily on her. So we each packed a bag and jumped in the car and started on the three-day journey to the other side of the country where my uncle had lived.
By Peter Wright5 years ago in Families
To My Querida, or Querido
“Ring around the rosies, pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we all fall down.” i. Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.
By Dneecey5 years ago in Families
The Stories We Told
My Grandmother died in a kindergarten classroom. She would visit once a month to read her latest stories to the children, before they would be published for the world. She would call them her focus group. If too many children became fussy, she knew the story wasn’t ready. She had begun this practise when I had first attended the school and kept at it long after my graduation. Despite her books adorning the classrooms and bedrooms of children around the world, she always preferred to have them read aloud. She thought it made them come alive.
By B. Wallis 5 years ago in Families
Granny's Greatest Secret
The thumping of Jane and Fred’s boots rang louder than their mourning hearts. Grandma’s porch was icier than usual, and threatened the pair of twins a great slipping ordeal ahead.
By A.X. Blight5 years ago in Families
The Garden
The thing stared at me, never breaking its focus. Its eyes bloodshot, causing them to stand out against its pale, white skin. The dark, brown mass perched on top its head was all entangled within itself, forming a giant knot. It was repulsive to look at, though at the same time, I couldn’t pull myself to look away from the beast. Somewhere, hidden behind the bloodshot eyes I could vaguely see the pain and hurt that the creature was feeling. As if it was searching for somebody to just notice it and help it. Then, snap, I recognized the beast.
By Emily Case5 years ago in Families
Land-Chantings
The sea to sky highway, that's what they call it. Where the mountains live along the water roads of the North Pacific Ocean and their towering heights kiss the white tufts in the western skies of North America.
By Ella5 years ago in Families
The Book Yet to Be Written
It has been a week since the death of my grandmother. I can still see her smiling face sitting across from me at the dining room table, cracking jokes and laughing at the “sprites” dancing in the kitchen. She was always an odd bird, set in her ways and walking her own path. All who met her were bewitched by her words and charisma.
By Elle Peabody5 years ago in Families
For The Things You Want To Remember. Third Place in Little Black Book Challenge.
I was eating a ham sandwich when my neighbour called round. A hint of concern accompanied the newspaper he brought me like an unwanted side of salad. Served with salad or with sympathy? I don’t know which is worse. We didn’t need either of them in my day: sausages and a stiff upper lip that’s what this country used to run on.
By Laura Jeffrey5 years ago in Families
Little Black Book.
I want to ask you, what do you do when things are simply provided? Do you, a, accept and stay behind the precarious line of not asking the questions you want to, or b, give into what is your first reaction, questioning why and how, never stopping to realize that you can simply just accept and things will be so much easier. And one more question, why is our first reaction to make things harder for ourselves? Maybe because we as humans have always had to fight. Never a dull moment. We simply can’t turn the other way with what we have. It isn’t enough.
By Hallie Richardson5 years ago in Families
To Nana and Papa
When I was in elementary school, I learned to write the alphabet. I was so impressed with my writing that when my grandparents came to visit, I showed them my work in my writing tablet. My grandmother said, “If you write the alphabet every day, I’ll give you 50 cents.” She had a deal.👍🏽
By Christine Smith5 years ago in Families
Parting Gifts
Yesterday was the first time that I didn’t share a birthday with my grandmother. Six months after we were too late in finding her cancer; terminal, malignant. The time she had was measured in weeks, not months. No one bothered humoring her with percentages for survival, and we knew better than to ask.
By Dylan Smith5 years ago in Families