Memoir

Gentle Stories of Discovery:
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Asked just about every adult who first met me as a child. Depending on the day, my age, or which way the wind was blowing, my answers were consistent only in their resolution and finality.
By Teresa Renton3 years ago in Chapters
A River Of Tears. Top Story - August 2023.
Less than three hours southwest of Madrid lies a valley called Valle de Jerty, in the province of Caceras, in Extremadura. The valley is well known in Spain, not so much outside of the country, for its stunning natural beauty, massive acreage of cherry blossom, and turbulent, rocky rivers.
By Liam Ireland3 years ago in Chapters
Running In Place
Author's Note: Running and music have always been a massive part of my life and I wanted to pay homage to the two things that have gotten me through hard times... especially when it comes to like and love. Enjoy!
By N.J. Gallegos 3 years ago in Chapters
Chapter 5: Different
Middle School wasn't anything like Waldorf. In Waldorf, each grade had its own room. Other than gym or recess, it was the teachers who would come to the classrooms to teach! There was no crowded halls, no madcap scramble.
By Malcolm Roach3 years ago in Chapters
In Memoriam
Dear Uncle Kent - I wish I had been able to see you and discuss my appreciation for you before you passed, but it didn't happen. I intended for things to go differently within the family - I guess we all fall victim to our intentions. So here I am, regardless of my intention, addressing this letter to you, in honor of our relationship, sadly, after your death. It seems ironic that it is commonplace to speak of the wonderful attributes a person carried with them throughout life, only to be noted after their death. Why is that? Why do we withhold the sharing of our love until after death, when the impacts of those truths upon the deceased are of no value to them anymore?
By KJ Aartila3 years ago in Chapters
Fifteen
I was only fifteen. I still had braces on my teeth and frizzy hair. My refuge was a night with my friends; talking, laughing, playing the role of normal. My friend, Tony, was at the helm of this adventurous night, and pulled into my driveway to drop me off.
By Jennifer Warren3 years ago in Chapters
Health Sabbatical (Hiatus)
I did not want my bad health to define me . There is a saying, “ Your health is your wealth.” I was never absent at work unless my body completely breakdown. I was not absent until something terrible happen to my body in 1999, right before spring.
By Mariann Carroll3 years ago in Chapters
Echoes of Resilience: Embracing the Journey of Dreams
In the heart of my journey, amidst the swirling currents of academic challenges and dreams that seemed just beyond my reach, I found a profound love for the path I had chosen. It was a journey that unfolded with countless lessons, unexpected twists, and moments of deep introspection. The winds of uncertainty buffeted against me, but I embraced them with an unyielding spirit, discovering that the pursuit itself was the treasure I sought.
By Uswa Naaz3 years ago in Chapters
A room with no view
I have been in this room with no views for four years now. But the view from my ability to see the Lord and his name is Jesus. We first met when I was struggling with my anxiety and depression, which I pursued in trying the drugs that I remember the teenagers of my time used. Trips, and cocaine. Only I was to encounter an experience like no other.
By Dawn Earnshaw3 years ago in Chapters
Driven
So, I didn’t think I would write anything for this challenge, because the premise feels weird to me. When is the middle of my life. Has it passed? I hope it’s in the future. But here is an anecdote from a comment I left on Leslie Writes’s story, "Who Taught You How to Drive?”, about how I learned to drive.
By Atomic Historian3 years ago in Chapters
The Burden of Love
7:00 a.m. I rose drearily from the loveseat parked in front of our heavy beige drapes that still hung with hooks-which no one from my generation likely knew how to use because curtains should just slide onto rods. I stretched my arms upward both grateful to have a job to rush to and lamenting the fact that I’m made to work from such a state of exhaustion. Granny is still asleep so I rouse her with a gentle shake. She’s neatly nestled under my favorite pink fleece blanket, the one that traveled with me from Brooklyn to Vassar then back to Brooklyn, and then from Brooklyn to Boston College Law School and back again. The gray paisley print bandana that she ties over her hair and knots on her forehead, is slightly raised like a crown and half on her head, halfway resting on her pillow. She wants me to leave her alone but she knows the routine-wake up, morning bird bath, change her diaper, fresh clothing, breakfast, and medication before I leave for work.
By Lori B.3 years ago in Chapters
Night of the Langum
Night of the Langum I sat in my bed, staring at the TV with my hand clamped over my mouth. My God, I thought. He dies. The kid dies. I reached for the emergency vomit bowl we keep on my nightstand for the kids and held it in front of me. It had been about thirty years since I’d last watched Radio Flyer, the early nineties movie my brothers and sister and I had based our childhood on. It’s a story about two young brothers who create a sort of fantasy world as a way to escape the cruel abuse of their stepfather. I think I was in fourth grade when we watched it, which would mean my sister was in second. We watched it a lot, my brothers and sister and I. Mom gets borderline hysterical if we mention this to her now. She says she’s not sure what she was thinking, letting us watch that show.
By CJ 3 years ago in Chapters