Home > Creative Writing > Memoirs
by Beth Burns
Created on: July 07, 2008
When I was a little girl my mom knew everything. She stayed home to raise five children. She said she
Created on: February 18, 2008
As I stand on the weather worn deck overlooking the expanse of autumn leaf littered yard I see Dad,
Created on: March 11, 2010
Several Days in the Life of Mom's Dementia
This day was before the family realized the extent
Created on: February 22, 2008
When the going gets rough most of the world as we know it either goes shopping or at the very least
by Janet Harris
Created on: February 12, 2008
My parents were not perfect by any means who is? They were human like everyone else, but I have to say
by Nan Keltie
Created on: May 07, 2008 Last Updated: June 10, 2008
My Other Dad
I am in the car with my father-in-law, driving him to another cardio-pulmonary therapy session.
by Aretha Brown
Created on: July 09, 2008
My parents, are only human i know that, but they are the sort of people who should never have had any
by Randa Morris
Created on: April 13, 2007 Last Updated: May 14, 2007
I have a favorite quote.
"Families often help and hurt at the same time."
I cannot tell you who said it,
by Joseph Wardy
Created on: August 15, 2007
Have you noticed the thousands of book written for parents about parenting? What a huge waste of money
Created on: June 12, 2009
The yellow walls were faded and cracks like spider veins ran from one wall to the next. It was a
by Deb Keen
Created on: February 14, 2008
The daunting task was mine. It was to differ from the ways of my parents and their parents before them.
Created on: March 02, 2008
I watched mother painfully inch her way up the stairs. Tears welled behind my eyes. A mere two years
by Ayesha Long
Created on: March 02, 2008
I never held any resentment towards my father because I never really knew him. When I think of him,
by Davina Rush
Created on: September 22, 2007
Parent...a word that means so much more
than any words can define,
A label that is unique to each person
who
Created on: August 20, 2007
When I was about eight years old all I wanted for Christmas was a club house. Somewhere that I could
Created on: August 13, 2007
She had brown hair, frizzy and wild, a crown of grey around her face. Old tired eyes that always knew
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