extended family
All about how to stay connected, strengthen ties and talk politics with your big, happy extended family.
Ava Rose's Little Black Book
Ava Rose Norwood grew up in Charlotte, North Carolina. Ava Rose was a vibrant 18 year old seeking to find her way in the world. Ava Rose has a love for family, antiques, and history. She grew up poor, but seeking a new life and college was on the horizon. She yearned for it, but couldn’t fathom how she would pay for it.
By Ballantyne5 years ago in Families
Following Shannon
When one thinks about what they would do if they came to gain a fortune, it dives deep into the fantasy of untold riches, private islands and jets, and an amount of money so large it felt unlimited. If it wasn’t by the lottery or a sudden new position of power, it was by inheritance or a will.
By Kirsy Massiel5 years ago in Families
A Lifelong Bond
I never met my grandfather, John Smyth. He died in the mid-1930s, a few years after my mother was born. I learned from mom that my grandfather had a previous life and wife before he married my grandmother. Grandpa John traveled to the Philippines at the turn of the previous century to work as a teacher. As I read in his little black book, his travelogue, I learned that he married a Filipino woman named Thelma. Most of the book was a daily log of how his new wife was faring. Thelma had fallen ill during childbirth. Not long after, he cryptically wrote that his wife had perished, as did the baby. His entries stopped for a while. A heartbroken young man, my grandfather returned to the United States. Grandpa kept his memories of the Philippines in a small wooden chest, which included his little black book.
By Timothy Reagan5 years ago in Families
Nana's Wish
Ginny anxiously stood at the door, waiting for someone to answer. She took in a deep breath and silently counted to 10 while alternating her glance between the small black notebook in her hand and the door. Softly she said to herself, "I'll knock one more time, and if no one answers, I'll leave. Maybe this was a mistake." Ginny repeated the pattern of knocking, counting, and nervously shuffling her feet three times. Just as she turned and started to walk away, Ginny heard the door open and a quizzical "hello."
By Natasha Carter5 years ago in Families
Black Sisters
Speaking to no one in particular, Marge sighed, “I can’t believe that she is really gone. That woman was so mean, I thought that she was too rough even for death to invite her over”. Marge’s comments sounded cruel. It had only been three days since their grandma sucked her last agonizing breath into her smoke filled lungs. Still, all three sisters busted out into uncontrollable laughter. “And, after going through all of this stuff, we still haven’t found any insurance policy”.
By Diane Watkins5 years ago in Families
The Black Book Gift
An infrared heating lamp with no on or off switch and certainly no filter; that’s what the sun already felt like on this early August morning. It made not sweating impossible. My skin felt more like a sieve than it did skin; as soon as I would drink water it literally would pour out with me.
By Chuck Behrens5 years ago in Families
A Thoughtful Trip
Cynthia Bloom a Meditation and Art History teacher was taking her daily commute on the city train. She was preparing to spend the summer in Northern, France near Giverny. Her beloved Aunt Fleur had invited her in hopes to persuade her to move to France and open a meditation studio. Fleur always thought of Cynthia as a daughter ever since the tragic death of her mother Adrianne so many years ago. The two had become remarkably close, kindred spirits. As Cynthia let the train carry her along the clackity journey to her classroom she daydreamed of beautiful French gardens with wisteria climbing the garden arbors, the Louvre with its awe-inspiring collection, pastries so decant from the flaky to the melt in your mouth macaroons, and the hot delicious sip of a café au lait. It made Cynthia weak at the knees. The people of France really knew how to let loose and enjoy life. The slow pace woke her up to mindfulness and thus she began her journey towards mediation and art history. She connected art and meditation into an effective teaching method.
By Stacy Parks5 years ago in Families
A Hidden Life
I had an estranged relationship with my great aunt. Even after I was born she never saw me or my family. When I first learned as a little kid that she existed I wondered why she never came around for Christmas or other holidays. I'd ask my mom why we never saw great-aunt Evelyn. When I was little she’d give answers like she wasn’t feeling well or she was always busy without ever explaining anything about her or what was going on in her life. Later on I learned she hadn’t spoken to the family since her husband died when my mom was a teenager. That’s how it was all my life. My parents never saw her. My grandma only spoke with her occasionally over the phone, but never in person anymore. I think her funeral was the first time I had actually seen her face. So I was very confused to learn that I had received an inheritance of $20,000 from her after she died that was to be given to me after I turned eighteen.
By Jacob Wilson5 years ago in Families
