Loss of a Parent(s)

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Why I Fight

Why I Fight My memories of my dad are like snapshots from a polaroid laid out on the table. Some of the images are crisp and clear; so tangible that I can almost feel the moment they capture, and some are slightly blurry, making them feel just a bit out of reach. My...

The Ending

The Ending A young girl sits cross-legged in the corner of the couch, shrinking into herself as if trying to disappear completely. She studies the loopy pattern of the carpet, torn between keeping her heart intact or looking at her father for what may be the last...

My Mother’s Eyes

My Mother's Eyes As we go through life we get labeled by everyone we meet, it’s done out of love, hate, or ignorance. Even nature sometimes labels us abnormal. We can choose to play into those labels or we can prove them wrong. I choose to label myself.  On August 15,...

Internal Monologue of Writing a Eulogy

Internal Monologue of Writing a Eulogy A dusty old photo album holds the picture of me wearing a backpack and a nervous smile standing under the big maple tree in our front yard, on my first day of kindergarten. A sense of dread fills my stomach every time I look at...

Every day After

Every day After A dusty old photo album holds the picture of me wearing a backpack and a nervous smile standing under the big maple tree in our front yard, on my first day of kindergarten. A sense of dread fills my stomach every time I look at that picture, just as it...

Yellow Roses

Yellow Roses Her favorite flowers were yellow roses. We’d get them for her on every occasion; her birthday, anniversary, and Mother’s Day. Seeing those flowers on the table on some of the happiest days in my life, I never would've expected to see them one last time,...

Unwell

Unwell She sits on the edge of the couch, putting together a playlist filled with old Matchbox 20 songs and a bit of Elton John here and there. It was a strange combination, but it had been a rough day. Her mom was at work. Her twelve hour shift that had lasted...

Without Him

Without Him At first she is too little to understand   She asks for lemons  Clouds  And dolls   Staying overnight  In the place where hearts are broken  Families are crushed  And lives are taken  Is like a sleepover for her  All her relatives play with her to distract...

Cancer Girl

Cancer Girl It’s dark. I should attempt to snag a few hours of sleep from the quickly dying night. Instead, I read the stars out of the window, point out Orion, Cassiopeia, and the Pleiades to myself. The stars remind me of my dad. We used to go camping as a family...