immediate family
Blood makes you related, loyalty makes you family.
My Story, Without Regrets
It all began on a cold wintry January morning, almost 73 years ago, when I came into this world, the second of what was to be three sons, to a Chinese father and a Colombian mother, in Washington, DC. They had met while mom was working as the nanny to the Colombian Ambassador to the U.S. and his wife who had three children and dad who went to visit his friend, also from China who also worked at that embassy, as a butler. Dad saw mom and was immediately struck by her beauty and shy demeanor and it was akin to the scene in the original “Godfather” movie when Michael first saw Apolonia, who would become his wife, my dad, like Michael, had been struck by the proverbial “lightning bolt”, a relationship, after they were married which would span some six decades.
By Robert Woo5 years ago in Families
Season of Believing
This year might be a little tougher to dig on down to our celebratory feels when it comes to Christmas. 2020 has been no easy year for any single one of us. We have let holidays and birthdays pass without seeing the ones we love in effort to keep them and ourselves healthy and safe. We have walked around with our faces covered and our identities masked themselves. We have had fear in our hearts for our neighbors, friends and families and not only because of Covid-19 but for equality reasons and more. This year has been a trial. So this Christmas should be a celebration that we who are here can embrace the magic of the holiday however we celebrate it. Normally we would be gathering with our family for a huge family party which now will be done through a zoom session. We will however still make our ham dinner on Christmas eve and put out the milk and cookies for the big guy to grace our boys beautiful mind, which is what this story will be about. He was asked today to write about Santa and the North Pole and what he imagines it to be. Through everything life has thrown, he still believes in the magic of wonder, something we should all dig on down and find again. So here it is, magic through imagination. Enjoy.
By Ashley Mattei5 years ago in Families
The Hands of Those I Love
The Hands of Those I Love I remember growing up and hearing my mother play “Daddy’s hands,” on the radio and I always found it funny because neither of us were raised by our fathers. We would sing that song as if we knew the feeling of having our father pull us in for a hug, or holding us when we had a nightmare, but neither of us knew what it actually felt like. In a way, we did because we were raised by the same man, my great grandfather, but the both of us knew it wasn’t the same. He was a great man who did everything he could for the both of us, but there was always a pit in the bottom of my stomach that would grow deeper and deeper every time he tried to fill the void my dad had left. My great grandfather was never meant to play the role of my dad, but I respect him for trying.
By tamera pierce5 years ago in Families
Sympathy for the Devil
The sun from my partially open venetian blinds woke me, a single band of light falling across my eyes. I propped myself up on an elbow and looked at my alarm clock. 9:35am. I stared sleepily at the numbers, until jarring anxiety made me throw off my covers and jump out of bed. School. I was late for school! Why didn’t my dad wake me up?! The bus came at 7:30 every morning, I had missed almost two periods of class by now.
By Carly Doyle5 years ago in Families
First Memory
Christmas was always a great holiday for my big family- It usually played out the same way every year- my whole family got together for a gift exchange and a dinner, the gifts would be passed around amongst the adults and the kids got to open it after it was distributed. This memory is from the Christmas of 1997, all was great.
By Jayme Rios5 years ago in Families








