grandparents

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

A Billion Breaths
"Take this” said a strange man dressed in a long black coat, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere on Nichole’s walk home from school. For some reason she stopped cold in her tracks and gave him her undivided attention. “Hide it somewhere safe”, he said quickly. “When the time is right someone will approach you, and you will need it. DO NOT OPEN IT. DO NOT LOSE IT. DO NOT TELL ANYONE, not even your family Nichole. You’re the one. You’re the one who will save us all. You’re the only one who can know the truth and be trusted with it. Now run. They’re coming." Eleven year old Nichole ran like her life depended on it. She didn’t know why, she didn’t know where to hide the book or who that man was, but she could see it in his face, he was serious, scared, and she trusted him.
By Tasia Saumier5 years ago in Families
Useless Things
“Abigail!” I hear the full-mouthed voice of my Aunt Mel’s husband call out across the front lawn. I avoid thinking of Bruce as my uncle, as this is a time to keep my real family close.
By Rachel5 years ago in Families
Purposeful Coincidence
Right before I stepped into the kitchen I felt a very gentle flay-like energy go through my ears. Then there was a nudge in my heart to go and answer the front door. “I just came out of the living room”, I thought to myself.
By Melanin Goddess5 years ago in Families
Gold in the Attic
My grandma told me about the gold in the attic when I was twelve years old. I had known, since I was little, that all sorts of strange things are hidden in the curious cabinets around her house. The spices and crackers and pumpkin seeds that would tumble over my head as soon as I’d reach for the shelves. The nearly folded and categorised linens and blankets and fabric scraps; tucked away with grandpa’s impressive stamps collection; the dusty glass display stands of shells and fans and Buddha heads—magazines, fictions, a magnificent bird embroidering on a miniature screen…a tuneless guitar I grew up thinking to be a cello.
By Clarissa Dsong5 years ago in Families
The Treasure Hunt
“Come over here”, I found something”, I screamed, while my best friend Todd came running towards me, knocking several things over in the cluttered attic.
By Monica Lange5 years ago in Families
Undesired
There she lay for 3 days unnamed, alone, destined to die. Unwanted, unwished for, unplanned. It was a dark and cold December, the doctors and nurses did not have hope for a happy ending, she was too small, born too early, only faith could carry this baby through. One loving grandma; who prayed, stayed, cared and loved as only a hero can until a miracle happened, the baby girl grew, she breathed, she thrived.
By Tina Richardson5 years ago in Families
Beyond the Sunset:
I couldn't believe it. I had no memory of writing those words. Yet I must have. There, in the little black book that emerged during a clean-up of my late grandmother's house, were the words written in my own unmistakable handwriting. The words were frightening, urgent, spare and pleading - and I was riveted by them.
By Geof Wheelwright5 years ago in Families
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