grandparents
Becoming a grandparent makes getting older something to look forward to - all the fun of parenting, without the hassle.
A Change in the Forecast
A year after her grandmothers’ death, she woke up to a day of mourning. Her heart was hurt and heavy, she tried to smile for her family, but her numbness overcame all other emotions. As she closed her eyes for along pause from reality, she could feel her grandmas hugs as a tear quietly ran down her cheek. She wondered if she would always feel this way, as if she had done all she could but would constantly fall short of everyone else’s expectations of her.
By Corttnee Schmidt5 years ago in Families
Last One Standing
There was only one move left for him to win, his eyes sparkled with mischief. He looked down at his cards, and then over at his opponent. Her smile lit up the room. “Pawpaw! Just play your hand already, I know you’re going to win.” He laid out his last card. “SKIPBO!” He yelled with a gleeful laugh. The girl shot him a competitive look. “Round two?” She asked. How could he not accept this challenge? The two played cards until well after the old mans bed time. But he didn’t care at all because they spent the time together. “Okay Lily, time for this old fart to go to bed!” The man exclaimed. “That’s only because you won all ten rounds, no fair!” Lily said. The old man laughed at her. He always loved spending time with his granddaughter. “We can play a different week.” He suggested. Lily nodded her head in agreement, and he took her home.
By Evalysse Garber5 years ago in Families
A Journey in Need
Grace District was my home, my paradise for the majority of my existence. When I was accepted into the psychology course, a unique and rare opportunity, moving closer to the capital of The United Nations of Strail was my only option. It was the start of a new chapter. Like the caterpillar when emerging from its cocoon to become a butterfly, city life enveloped me in new beginnings.
By Tiffany Dewey5 years ago in Families
Raney's Day
My grandfather had left me his final masterpiece; the most otherworldy rolltop desk you'd ever seen. Secrets upon secrets lay imbued into the dark oak and stained pine with its drawers, cubbies, and nooks galore. And magic. He had recognized almost immediately after I was born that we were old souls of like fashion; kindred spirits born to create functional art. He had planted the seed early in my life to not just decorate space with things, but to build things to occupy that space, and to learn to build things in such a way that a part of your soul was left in the grain of the wood. That is the magic I was taught. I felt him still as I sat down and began exploring his handiwork.
By Daniel Pittman5 years ago in Families
In A Year
Here I am, trying to make sure everything is accurate. So much is riding on this. I have boxes of receipts and a folder with the past year’s bank statements. None of it was as important as the little black book in my purse. Everything must match this little book of sixty pages. One of my favorite movies is Rent and the opening song never meant so much until this year. I agreed to do this. I could have said no, but I didn’t and here we are. We’re sitting in this cozy little office with boxes, a folder and this little black book waiting to talk to my grandparent’s lawyer.
By F. D. Pruitt5 years ago in Families
The Magical Black Book
My grandmother, like me, was seen as an odd ball to the rest of my family, her aura whimsical and distinct, a hopeful artist living in a colourless world. She hypnotized anyone in her presence, her skin like silk, her afro resembling that of a lion's mane. She was a magical woman simply vibrating on a higher level.
By Linda renee5 years ago in Families
The Title
The Title Everybody used to joke about Grandma’s little black book. “You got some phone numbers in there, Ellie?” they would say after my grandfather passed, and even now and then when he was alive. Other popular choices were, “You working for some secret operation, Grandma?” and, “How long until you publish that sequel to War and Peace?” Sometimes Grandma would look up and smirk; sometimes she’d smirk without looking up; and sometimes her face remained fully devoted to whatever world was in that book. But she’d always reply, in a tone as bold and carefree as the frizzy silver curls that spiraled down to her shoulders, “If I tell you, will you shut up?” All us grandkids would giggle, and our parents and great-aunts and great-uncles would roll their eyes and chuckle softly, having partaken in this back-and-forth for at least a couple of decades.
By Rebecca Longabucco5 years ago in Families
Tea Notes
A soft song of steam decrescendoed as Ariel lifted the simmering kettle. Water bubbled over the pearled leaves, filling the mug with a swamp of gunpowder green. She rested the kettle on a cool, empty burner and glanced at her desk, where a pile of journals in dark burgundy and grey, marked with ribbons and notes, was stacked on the desk’s corner--a project in progress. The singular black leather one was older, marked with the permanent stains of use, weather, and persistent fingers. It was held together with a little stitching on the spine and a cord like a too-tight belt around its bulging belly.
By Cheryl Hong5 years ago in Families
'Skin in the Game
Addison was perched quietly in the small bedroom on the third floor of their house by a small window overlooking the side yard that was lush with trees this time of year. Everyone else was downstairs. "Look," he heard his mother say in a highly concerned tone through the otherwise silent air vent, "I don't want things. I want my dad."
By Richard Soulliere5 years ago in Families
