immediate family

Blood makes you related, loyalty makes you family.

Pros and Cons
Pros:...let’s face it...that’s a lot of money. Cons: Let’s face it...your father has been buried for a month. Pros: Sure...sure, but the money’s not coming from him. And with that money, all $20,000, I could pay off the rest of my debts--$15,000--and I wouldn’t have to risk my neck making deliveries anymore. I wouldn’t have to assume that risk of being caught by police. I wouldn’t have to worry about hauling unmarked bags and parcels all over town, sometimes being attacked with the objects I’ve delivered. Since I took this job I’ve started grinding my teeth. Kay kicks me out of bed now. I brought up the risk to the boss, and she didn’t care.
By Patrick St. Amand5 years ago in Families
Starting Over
Today was the day. The final day to lay everything out before hearing the final ruling on the rest of my life. I laid in my bed trying to imagine how I would feel by the time I laid in this bed this evening. I sat up and told myself it was time to get up, and it was time to get moving with my day. I could hear my family moving about, getting ready for their day in the other rooms of the house. I could do this, I could fight this fight and come out successful. As I stood I looked at my notebook on my nightstand. I touched it as if the connection of my fingertips to the cover would download all of its contents on my memory as the backup drive when in fact it was the opposite. I executed my morning routine on autopilot as my mind drifted to all that the day would hold for me.
By Carey 5 years ago in Families
The Opportunity Inheritance
Nicole held the golden fountain pen her father had given her on her 18th birthday in her right hand. She ran her thumb across the cover of her journal enjoying the texture as an attempt to calm her mind into a meditative state as she waited for the words to come to her mind and be bled onto its pages. It had become apparent to her that if she spent all night researching lucid dreaming, the actual sleep may never come. She thought to herself “how am I supposed to keep a dream journal when I can never remember my dreams?” as she opened her brand-new black Moleskine journal. She decided to jot down what she remembered from her research to get her creative juices going.
By Jessica Morales5 years ago in Families
Where Your Treasure Is
“Okay, Ma! Show me the money! I know you're up in Heaven just waiting for us to start this hunt, so give me a sign," yells Lizzie as she slams the front door. Ruth rushes to save the picture that falls from the wall, but the glass front shatters.
By Rita Zoladz5 years ago in Families
My Little Black Book Contains Family Secrets and Scandals
My parents divorced each other, but they remarried. My father was married three times. My mother was married three times. Therefore, I have many siblings. There are more of us than the Kardashians and Braxton siblings. I often think being part of a big family is a blessing and a curse.
By Margaret Minnicks5 years ago in Families
I won the lottery once
I've been though some unbelievable events in life so what do you want to hear about first? At 14 I lost my grandfather to lung cancer. He was my best friend and the loss sent me into a downward spiral. A few months later, I was drinking and hanging out with older teens. I became kind of popular due to my party girl reputation.
By CP Rosekrans5 years ago in Families
Mommy Book
"I’m sure I left it on the counter. Someone is always moving my things." Ron could not be bothered by this. Every day his wife suggests the children have moved her keys, taken her hairbrush and the housekeeper put her towel in the wrong bathroom or moved an important piece of mail. For someone as organized and productive as Molly attempted to be, she was always frazzled or frantically looking for something.
By Michael Everts5 years ago in Families
Family Legacy
There I was, sitting on the front pew and all I could think about was the last words she whispered to me in my ear at the hospital. She had been sick a long time, she was tired, the chemo had just about worn her completely down and I was glad she was no longer in pain. As I glanced at all the flowers, the beautiful arrangements clustered about the church, I couldn’t help but think she would have loved them all, especially the beautiful white roses. Those were her favorite and those were the last bunch I brought to her in the hospital. Then my mind went to the room. Her voice was weak and low but I remembered she summoned me to put my ear to her mouth. She whispered these words in my ear, “Look under the sewing kit in the Hope chest. I’ve had it for years and I want you to take possession of it now. It was given to me by my mother and I was saving it for you.” I couldn’t help but remember how her hand grabbed mine and although very frail and weak, she clutched my hand like she knew it was the last time she would. So many things, so many memories flooded my mind while I sat there, I never heard the Director ask the family to stand. It was hard to keep the tears at bay, but as I followed the casket out of the church and to the hearse, I knew it was my turn to say goodbye.
By Tara Williams5 years ago in Families
The Recipes of Madame Powell
With both hands, Matthew Powell cradled a cheap water-glass full of a half-bottle of washington merlot, and stared at the red brick fireplace in his late father’s living room. Rarely could he enjoy sitting in the renovated living space of the victorian home, and now he would have to decide if he wanted to keep the property for himself, a prospect that daunted him. His father Jacob bought the house when Matthew’s mother had passed four years prior, and a change of scenery was necessary to adapt to life in Pine Grove without her. “Always go back to the source, that’s what your mother would say. This house,” Jacob described to his son, “Is also known as ‘Powell Place’ to the local historians.”
By Todd Montgomery5 years ago in Families
Time
There they were sprawled out across the cramped table of the private bank room. Thomas paced about, reading the letter. Tommy’s mind jumbled it all up, but for what he could capture, it said:
By Caleb Kuenzli5 years ago in Families
You Just Never Know
I stood in the shower, water running down my back, my heart pounding. I could faint at any moment. Thoughts were running through my head, trying to process the events from today. It was just too much. One more surprise and my heart would give out.
By Larissa Fielder5 years ago in Families
A Book for Remembering
I slammed on the brakes and the 1964 Plymouth came to a screeching halt. The summer night was clear and warm and in the sudden stillness the desert around me seemed to stretch on endlessly. Tears were still streaming from my face. I could feel them burning on my flushed cheeks, eroding away my skin and dripping freely from my chin onto my shirt but I didn't care. I hardly even noticed them to be honest because in that moment when I should have been feeling distraught and heart broken I felt nothing and that was somehow worse. I looked over at the duffle bag that sat innocently on the passenger side seat, the duffle bag that was filled to the brim with cash, the duffle bag that occupied a space that would never be filled with my son ever again. At the thought of my son, my sweet round faced son who would never sit in that seat, never eat cheese pizza in that seat, never listen to Blink 182 and try to sing like Tom DeLonge ever again. These thoughts seemed to scream over and over again in my mind and perhaps it was the stillness of the desert night that so contrasted the heaving sea of anguish that radiated throughout my entire being or perhaps it was seeing the bag that had replaced my own flesh and blood in the passenger seat but the numbness inside of me shattered. I began to scream and beat my hands against the steering wheel of the old Plymouth. I could hear myself screaming to God asking him over and over again to forgive me for getting my precious boy mixed up in all this. I knew that he would not.
By Hayden Buhler5 years ago in Families