Relationships & Family

Stranded

batch — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 20:21:44 -0500

The station wagon was stuffed as tightly as the Thanksgiving turkey awaiting us at my parents house on Long Island, New York. Suitcases. Toys. Snacks. Road maps. CD player. A crib strapped to the roof. And four children, three of them under six years old.

Shattered Christmas Ornaments

admin — Sat, 01 Dec 2007 06:26:00 -0600

It was a strange Christmas package: a large plastic mailbox.

A present from Susan, a woman I'd worked with. "I didn't have a box or a gift bag, so I packed your gift in that," Susan explained, giving it to me outside my office that morning. I tried to laugh. I could definitely use some cheering up, especially after the night that I'd had.

It was supposed to be the big night for our Christmas tree trimming, and I was determined to make it extra-special this year. My husband had walked out on my three kids and me just a month earlier.

Custom Made

admin — Thu, 01 Nov 2007 11:54:00 -0500

The holidays are full of traditions—about what we do, eat, say, pray, smell, wear, sing—handed down from years, even centuries ago. Some families go to church, others go caroling; some open gifts Christmas Eve, others Christmas Day; some use fresh cranberries, others use canned. As children, we adopted our parents' customs. But our adult lives sometimes require new rituals. You might need to adapt for a spouse who comes from a different faith or ethnic background, a new child, divorce or remarriage. Try these ideas for making new traditions rich in both meaning and joy.

Leap of Love

admin — Sat, 01 Mar 2008 12:56:00 -0600

It should have been the perfect date for Ryan and me—a late summer hike through majestic Silver Falls State Park, the largest in Oregon. The scene around us was out of a nature film: a thick forest of dark, moss-covered evergreens, dewy, drooping ferns and fluorescent clovers lining the trail. We strolled alongside a gurgling creek, walking my brother's dog, Little Pig, who stopped now and again to sniff a random flower or patch of grass. A romantic, serene moment. Except Ryan just had to bring up what was bothering him. What was bothering me too.

The Dwelling Place

jbloustein — Fri, 01 May 2009 15:44:39 -0500

I’d never had a problem feeling at home—not with dear friends, a supportive church and the close-knit community in upstate New York I’d spent 30 years getting settled in. Yet after my husband and I separated my world turned upside down. Everyone knew me as the wife I no longer was. What now?

“Why don’t you move to Ohio, Mom?” my daughter suggested one day over the phone. “There are some nice little townhouses right in my neighborhood.”

A Double Healing

jbloustein — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 09:46:36 -0500

"Bonnie, help me!” I bolted upright in bed, the words ringing in my ears.

I turned over and looked at the clock through bleary eyes. It read 2:00 a.m. Beside me, my husband slept soundly. I must have been dreaming…I thought.

I certainly knew the voice that had cried out for my help. It was my ex-husband, Owen.

No man had caused me more pain than Owen had before our divorce. Eight years later I couldn’t think of him without resentment. But the words I heard had been so clear, so desperate. Bonnie, help me!

The Forgiving Quilt

mcherkezian — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 15:17:52 -0600

Bulging red rubber tubs of decorations were scattered around the living room of my log cabin as I prepared for the holidays: Christmas lights and ornaments for the tree, red and green candles for the windows, holly for the fireplace. I’d wrestled the tree into its stand. Now I needed a quilt to spread around the bottom for a skirt.

I went to the linen cupboard. One quilt immediately caught my eye: a hand-stitched antique. Do I really want to put this on display? I thought as I pulled it out. The one she gave me?

Hint of Cinnamon

admin — Tue, 28 Oct 2008 16:04:50 -0500

Where was she? My friends' parents had picked them up from theater rehearsal already, and I was tired of waiting in front of the high school. Mom was never late. Nothing's the same since she and Dad split up, I thought.

Just then she drove up. My brother, Markkus, slouched in the backseat in his soccer uniform. "Sorry," Mom said. "The lines at the grocery store were terrible." I got in and slammed the door.

"Are you guys in the mood for tacos?" Mom asked.

Simple Blessings

admin — Thu, 01 Sep 2005 07:32:00 -0500

Loneliness? Y'all might not think that's a problem for someone like me, but you'd be surprised. I might seem happy as a lark on my Food Network series, Paula's Home Cooking (and I am).

Down here at the restaurant I run, I seem to know half the world that walks in for some good southern cookin'. They are friends. They kept me in business when I hardly had a cent.

The Great Leap

admin — Wed, 01 Mar 2006 07:55:00 -0600

Sometimes you reach a point in your life where, even if you're a careful, practical person like I am, you have to throw caution to the wind and take a chance, leap into the great unknown. A scary thing to do, no question. But you just might end up discovering something amazing. I did.

My best friend, Carrie, and I were having dinner one night last October. "Your birthday is right around the corner," she said. "What do you want to do?"