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GOING FISHIN
WHAT IS A FATHER? I am one of a troupe of this world's populations that can truly say "that is an abstract term" for cause being I have never truly had one. Oh, sure there have been stand-ins. There have been those "big brothers" claimed by me or by themselves to be an "older male figure" to replace an older brother... also an image missing in my life. I have to say, in my own defense, that many people are at loss for that older protective brother or father/dad figure because of the hazardous role it presents to that individual's life. They can be killed or imprisoned for the wrongful act as family defenders. Family defenders are cut down as being "defiant" "assaultive" "vicious" "crazed "malicious" and "militant" if seen or heard to be in the act of defending those he loves and purportedly selflessly rescues from harm's way. Those vouching for my accord have usually been reduced to usurers of snipe-worthy conversation including defense by my father-in-law... grandfather of my first and only children.
By CarmenJimersonCross4 years ago in Families
Growing Pains
The sun sits low in the sky during early autumn in Scotland - it seems to travel horizontally rather than in an arch, and the light it casts is like rich, golden honey. It drips over the world slowly and makes everything thick and hazy. When I think of my dad I think of this period; the gateway between the last, dying ebbs of the summer and the first gasps of autumn. I think of the dusty, cracked roads somewhere between the outskirts of the town and the forgotten byways past the last street lights. I think of campfires, tents, scraped knees, a hot, musty car, the smell of cigarette smoke and sharp aftershave and...
By S. A. Crawford4 years ago in Families
The Ship of Dreams
It was morning. The sun was out and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I was probably around six or seven then, maybe younger since my memory doesn’t serve me very well. Speaking of memories, some of my favorite ones involve the simple things my grandfather would do with my sister and me.
By Lauren J. Bennett4 years ago in Families
Poke Him With A Broom
Back in the mid 90s I lived with my parents in the high desert of California. The house my parents had bought was an old homestead on five acres. It was small and in serious need of repairs. To be honest, it would have been less work to build a house from scratch. My dad was doing most of the work himself with a little help from my uncles.
By Kristen Renee4 years ago in Families
Three Days. No Voice. Worth It.
Let me start with saying that having a birthday in July usually sucks, at least it did when I was a kid. Most of my friends would go on awesome family vacations or to stay with family for the summer. The year of my 15th birthday I spent most of the summer listening to Aerosmith’s new album, Get A Grip. I knew all the words, as I did to all their music.
By Kristen Renee4 years ago in Families
Potluck
When I was in 7th grade my dad worked in San Bernardino at a place called Sinclair Paint. He sold paint to companies, as well as the average person. Around this time a lot of businesses in San Bernardino were going out of business. This caused a bunch of empty buildings and warehouses in the blocks surrounding my dad’s work.
By Kristen Renee4 years ago in Families
Miracle of the White Leaves
CHAPTER ONE A Dark Cloud and the First Miracle The sun struggled to shine its light through the mist of an Irish morning. From a view of the dawn sky overlooking white cliffs that led to the ocean, a black cloud appeared. It broke into smaller pieces, separating and coming together again and again. The dark mass was composed of thousands upon thousands of smaller black dots. The huge cloud cast a massive shadow over the white cliffs of the island. As the cloud moved closer to the shore, individual spots revealed themselves as locusts. Though very clumsy and constantly bumping into each other, each insect was surprisingly polite.
By Dr. Stephen Dunnivant4 years ago in Families
