Family

What Better Father Figure Than My Dad?
My dad is the coolest day. How many people can say that their dad pretended to sing and play guitar as Barry Gibb from The Bee Gees while their mom fan-girled in the crowd?
By A. Marler4 years ago in Confessions
Mom's Love Power
"Hey Mom. I never told you this before, but... you made me stronger than you think! There were times that I did not understand how you did so much to love me, and I did not realize that until I stopped going to the Boys & Girls Club. "Tia, I don't care if you are 18 or not, you're going to that Boys & Girls Club as long as you in my house." Those were the words you said. Confusion sunk in at that time not knowing why I could not go places after school or hang out with my friends. Little did I know that was protection from things that would throw me off track because you knew that I had dreams that could only be available to me if I stayed connected to the discipline instilled by your love. I love that she cared about how I proceeded in the world.
By Nitia Johnson4 years ago in Confessions
Sugar-Free Popsicles
My dad was born on December 17th. From what I know (my mom told me all this) he was really smart, but just didn't like the idea of societal norms chaining him to a certain system, or a certain job. So he finished high school and didn't go to college. He seemed to live life at the moment. He hang around with his terrible friends, they were nice, just not a good influence. They would smoke and make irrational decisions to drive to Arizona and ride on quads. Like I said bad influence.
By Burnt Baguettes4 years ago in Confessions
Without My Dad
Without my dad, I wouldn’t have learned to ride a bike. Without my dad, I wouldn’t have learned to fly a kite and fix it when it gets tangled from the rushing winds. Without my dad, I would not have the skill or desire to search out the truth. Without my dad, I would not be the writer I am today. Without my dad, I would not have this love for sci-fi and fantasy such as Star Wars, Dune, Children of the Dune, and Star Trek; the list goes on! I owe my skill as a writer of fantasy and fiction to my dad. I can remember my siblings and I would beg my dad to make seasoned stove-top popcorn so we can all watch Dune at midnight until we passed out. Memories.
By A.M. Lillard4 years ago in Confessions
My First Love
It sounds quirky, but it is true. My father was probably my first love. Sounds a bit weird saying it, but he really was. I don't really have a clear memory of it, but everyone tells me that I was determined to marry him when I grew up.
By Ayumi Hino Gerads4 years ago in Confessions
My Father's Ghosts
There is a great good fortune in having loving parents close at hand. There can be a great good fortune in the natural beauty and quality of the places in which we spend our youth. As a child, I could not properly appreciate these. I was unaware of just how fortunate I was until a friend of mine from college visited my childhood home. Seeing the view from my parents' balcony, seeing the verdant surroundings and large lot of the house, he said simply, "You do realize you grew up in a paradise?"
By Stéphane Dreyfus4 years ago in Confessions
One Final Goodbye
Dear Angel, Happy Birthday! Today marks your 43 birthday, or what was supposed to be. It’s been five years since we celebrated a birthday with you here on Earth. Let me tell you; it has been a very long five years. So much has happened, so many accomplishments, graduations, and milestones, and you weren’t there for any of them. I can only hope you were there in spirit, cheering me on from the other side.
By Emmie Falbo4 years ago in Confessions
Home, the one on that hill
When I was a child, I lived in this end of the mountain, but the moon cake seller lives in that end of the mountain, and when I grew up, I also lived in that end of the moon cake seller, but could not find home in that mountain.
By dawjackson4 years ago in Confessions
The Lawn Mower, The Television and The Freezer
It appears that the Hyde Sisters (that would be me and two of my sisters) enjoy getting their hands a little dirty and will do almost anything to get things done - because as Dara stated yesterday "It was Jeremy's fault." (Or Victor's).
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales4 years ago in Confessions
I Never Told You
Hey Mom, I never told you, but one day I was at the park and you came to my mind. Usually, I would go and play a little tennis but not that particular day. I went to the park and I was listening to some of my favorite songs. I started to sing along, practicing almost like I was in a choir. It was a beautiful day with the sun out. Children were playing on the swings, parents were watching them sitting nearby, and I thought of you. I'm not completely sure why I thought about you. Maybe it was because it reminded me of when we used to go to the amusement park with Dad and play on the amusement rides till evening came. You would give us some change and off we would go. I especially enjoyed riding on the go carts. It made me feel like a grown-up. Then we would finally find a place in the shade and enjoy some ice-cream before we left for the day. I was at the park when I remembered that.
By Akpene4 years ago in Confessions
Through a magnifying glass to find a father
Looking back, I don't remember ever saying Happy Father's Day to my father. We were all so busy rushing headlong into this business of eking out and forging a livable existence, that the little important things got lost along the way. So now I will have to reserve that honor for our meeting in the afterlife. May you rest in peace, father dear.
By Novel Allen4 years ago in Confessions
A Song From my Father
The Lesson is more reliable than the memory My father is not a proud man. Not in the traditional sense. He appears reserved, even stoic in the way people abuse the term these days. It was not until much later in life that I began to see how deep that man’s feelings ran. Still waters and all that. As anyone whose primary love language is acts of service, his affection could always be found in the doing. The effort. The meaning of which can truly be felt and measured in direct proportion to the often obscene demands on such people’s time.
By Andrew Rockman4 years ago in Confessions