Family

Dear Tom, The legal drinking age in the US is 21. Please know that Dad and I will never allow you to have alcohol in our house or in our presence until you reach that age. Please also know that no good has ever come from a group of teenagers drinking. It's a recipe for all kinds of disasters. If you should choose to drink, you'll not only be breaking the rules of our house, you'll be breaking the law. If you get stopped for driving under the influence, or the police get called to a party where you have been drinking, you may be in a position where we can't protect you. Always call me and your Dad. ALWAYS. No matter what you have done. Don't ever follow up a bad choice with one that's worse just because you're afraid of disappointing us or making us angry. Will we be...
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The plane has already landed My heart is beating faster I’m getting anxious, nervous Can’t wait to get off the plane Wanna see, wanna hold her I wanna be with her! “Cabin Crew: Doors may be opened” Long row of people waiting They seem to take forever Getting their cabin luggage The small aisle seems unforgiving I wanna be with her! Finally off the airplane Rushing toward customs Trying to keep my calm Inside I’m feeling more anxious I wanna be with her! A long row before customs stops me I have to wait my turn Can feel my heart pounding Wondering if anyone notices I wanna be with her! Finally! I passed the customs Off to the baggage belt Slowly one suitcase after another Does the horror never end! I wanna be with her! Finally there comes my suitcase...
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On June 25th 2015 My Dad passed away. I was at an awards night for the non-profit I work for. Out of respect for everyone receiving an award I turned my cell phone off in an effort to be more present. It started out as a very happy night. My girlfriend (also a co-worker) won an award and made a very moving speech that made me very proud of her. I was moved by a lot of the speeches that my peers made, but one of them went above and beyond thanking their parents and honoring them for the job they did in raising her. This stood out to me and I fantasized about being chosen as employee of the year myself. Having my dad there and giving him the honor and respect that he deserved for raising me. As the night was coming to a close I turned my cell back on to receive multiple e-mails from my Mom...
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Hey Kids, Feel free to leave your stuff wherever you want this summer. Half-finished smoothies in the family room? No problem. I got it. Socks in the hall. I'm on it. Dishes in the sink? Keep 'em coming. Legos? Everywhere? Love it. Oh, and feel free to drag your blankets all over the house and abandon them the moment you no longer want them. I'll fold them lovingly for you and return them to your rooms. And doors? Shutting them is optional. I'm right behind you, so, seriously, don't worry about it. I love when the wasps get in and the air conditioning gets out. Who are we to be sequestered in our climate-controlled house? Open door policy in this house. We have endless money. And it's totally fine to leave your wet bathing suits and towels on any surface, from the floor to the...
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To Hal Robin Williams, God rest his soul, told me before you were born that you might not be tolerant of me doing voices. He said, “I’m telling you, they like daddy to be daddy. They don’t like daddy to be all over the place with the voices and the characters.” He said later that you’d like it, and he was so right. I always wanted to give Horton the Elephant or the Cat in the Hat a voice—it was what came natural to me. You’d say, “No, no, no daddy, do it in your own voice!” But about six months ago, you finally allowed me to cast your bedtime stories with voices. You don’t realize, of course, that most of the voices I’m doing are from The Simpsons. When you’re a teenager, you’re going to say, “Wait a minute, the Tin Man is Moe the Bartender!” It’s impossible to get fatherhood...
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Hi, Dad. For the sake of my safety and sanity, I am remaining anonymous in this letter... you are a Lutheran-Church Missouri-Synod pastor. You know your theology like the back of your hand. And so, as any other confessional, conservative Christian would, you believe homosexuality is a sin. You raised me this way. You raised me to believe that the lives of so many happy people are wrong and sinful. Every time something on the news arises about a gay couple, or your brother, my uncle, talks about how proud he is to be gay, you shake your head and frown. You put these people down. You say things that you interpret as being a "loving Christian," when, in reality, you are talking as the exact opposite. However, I cannot say you hate. I know for a fact you don't hate gay people. You don't...
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Dear mums, dads, aunties, uncles, grandparents and carers. Firstly, thank you for taking the time to get engaged with the 7 Senses Street Day this far! As parents with young families we wanted to share with you our vision for 7 Senses Street Day and why we believe your family should be involved and your voice heard. The idea to hold the 7 Senses Street Day grew out of our awareness of the growing rates of impairment and disability amongst our youngest and eldest populations, and how difficult it can be for families with disability to participate in our current built environments. We know that the impact of living with disability extends far beyond the immediate person with the disability. We know that for every person who is restricted from participating in daily activities...
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Dear Harpy: There you sit, in the corner of my dining room, a one hundred year old beauty in a state of Miss Haversham disrepair. Your sinuous curves, outlined to great advantage with thin scrolls of gold paint, contrast sharply with the strings that pop out in odd directions, like the black wires of Linus’ hair on Peanuts. You exude such a magnetic charm that children and adults alike are drawn to pluck your strings, to run their hands along your dusty angles, and finally to ask the question that you hypnotize them into uttering: “Who here plays the harp?” And I have to answer, every single time, “No one.” Happy now? Thanks! We all get it! I never learned to play you! I’ll admit that upon learning from my father that his mother had left me her precious 1923 Irish harp, I...
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Hello Granny I am not sure what my intention is in writing this or rather how I will choose to communicate this with you, but it is something I have been thinking about doing for a long time. I understand now why they call it ‘the long goodbye’. It feels like every time I see you it is not only another day that I get to spend with you but also another reminder of how much you have faded since our last meeting. I miss you so much gran. Although you are still ‘here’, I wish I still had you to share all my thoughts, worries and concerns. So much has changed since your diagnosis and rather than sharing in these pivotal moments with us, you watch from a locked window outside; unable to communicate. I wish that I still had the opportunity to do all the things we use to do together. Driving...
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Dear Grandparents, Christmas and Hanukkah are right around the corner. Historically, this means that the temptation to pile on the gifts, especially the plastic gifts and character toys, is particularly high. But let’s take a minute to be honest with one another. While we appreciate the generosity, and while we realize that there are thousands of kids less fortunate, do we really need more plastic stuff in our house? Our playroom already looks like a toy store exploded in there. And – with help from the kids – we purge it at least once every 2 months AND whenever we go on a cleaning rampage. The toys usually end up overflowing from the playroom into the living room where they inevitably end up under the couch. We are priviledged. Very, very priviledged to have a playroom that literally...
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