Lois Roma-Deeley remembers an Italian-American father, his Lincoln, and the magic they evoked.
The sky was crying. It was an unusually misty day in Joplin, Missouri, as they laid my Angel in her grave. A friend dropped a single red rose on top of the half-sized casket. It was done. My baby was gone.
My wife of eight years confessed: she was seeing someone, and she was pregnant by another man. The child wasn’t mine. That was just the beginning.
A boy crosses the threshold to manhood in Joy Ladin’s poem, but he’s not the only one who has changed.
Our self-esteem is exceptionally low. Our addicted parents were unable to provide the love and nurturing we required to form secure attachment.
Douglas Luman considers boyhood and the difficulties of growing up in this “sourced poem.”
How do you figure out how to be in her presence—have a relationship with her—while not allowing yourself to be sucked into the vortex of her emotions?
His father taught him through his example. That’s how he’s teaching his children. — You’re a natural sponge. This isn’t a process you have to learn, or something you can force. Don’t have a sit-down meeting with your friends and discuss the ways they should help you grow. That would be crazy. This is a […]
So much of who we are comes from our childhoods; how we learn to deal with pain, how we learn to cope, and how we learn to overcome.
Nora Meiners writes as the white mother of a biracial son, reflecting on black male bodies and the perils that attend them.
Just in the telling of the abuse, you are honoring the child who still remembers the pain. The confusion. The dread. The fear. And you are connecting with that child within you. Soothing him or her.
Today’s parents need help. Are we raising a generation of brats? Gene Del Vecchio tells us.
Joy Ladin offers a bittersweet remembrance of a father who loved and was loved from a distance.
A thank you from a daughter to a father.
Equal parts lullaby and elegy, James Arthur’s poem is for children present and past.
They bought all the books and thought they were prepared. Their children had other plans. — As the parents of three boys, our life is anything but boring. We have wanted nothing more than to be a good mother and father. We wanted, actually needed, to do everything right. We bought all the popular books […]