Quotes About Family

Our parents are the primal source. We make our own lives, but our origin stories are theirs. They go back with us to the beginning of time.

But she would never get there, no matter how wide she stretched her arms. The amount that she loved us was beyond her reach. It could not be quantified or contained.

I can't do this," he kept repeating through his tears. "I can't live without Mom. I can't. I can't. I can't." "We have to," I replied, though I couldn't believe it myself.

Heridas?" -fue lo único que conseguí decir. "Sí" -afirmó Pat- "Y tú tienes esas heridas en el mismo sitio. Eso es lo que hacen los padres si no curan sus propias heridas. Hieren a sus hijos en el mismo sitio.

all the women who wanted to be hobos were holed up in some house with a gaggle of children to raise. Children who'd been fathered by hobo men who'd hit the road.

As I passed them, I felt the presence of my mother so acutely that I had the sensation that she was there; once I even paused to look around for her before I could go on.

As I read, I could feel my mother's presence so acutely, her absence so profoundly, that it was hard to focus on the words.

Love is the feeling we have for those we care deeply about and hold in high regard. It can be light as the hug we give a friend or heavy as the sacrifices we make for our children. It can be romantic, platonic, familial, fleeting, everlasting, conditional,

Yes, I'd been a loving daughter and yes, I'd been there for her when it mattered, but I could have been better. I could have been what I'd begged her to say I was: the best daughter in the world.

My daughter is wearing a dress that her grandmother bought for her at a yard sale. It's so simple it breaks my heart. How unspecial that fact is to so many, how ordinary for a child to wear a dress her grandmother bought her, but how very extraordinary it was to me.

He wasn't delusional or ill or giving into age-induced dementia. He was my father. The man he'd always been. And he was talking to me as if I was his daughter. As if he had a right. But he didn't.

There was no mother at our college graduations. There was no mother at our weddings. There was no mother when we sold our first books. There was no mother when our children were born. There was no mother, ever, at any turn for either one of us in our entire adult lives and there never will be. The same is true for

that it's devastating for a child to hear one parent speak ill of the other. In fact, so much so that the researchers found it was less psychologically damaging if a parent said directly to the child You are a worthless piece of shit than it was for a parent to say Your mother/father is a worthless piece of shit.

Small things such as this have saved me: How much I love my mother—even after all these years. How powerfully I carry her within me. My grief is tremendous but my love is bigger.

she told me that she was grateful for him because without him she wouldn't have had my siblings and me.

Your behavior and words will deeply impact your child's life—both how he or she feels about his or her father and also how he or she feels about him or herself.

THE RECKONING Dear Sugar, I am the lucky mama of one darling baby and oh, how I treasure every moment! Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you look at it—the baby's daddy does not follow suit on treasuring every moment.

When it comes to our children, we do not have the luxury of despair. If we rise, they will rise with us every time, no matter how many times we've fallen before. I hope you will remember that the next time you fail.

You say your marriage is "loveless" and perhaps you're correct that your relationship has come to its natural end, but I'd like you to consider the notion that you aren't the best judge of that right now. You're a psychologically distressed drug addict with four kids, no health insurance, uncertain business prospects, and a pile of bills. I wouldn't expect your marriage to be thriving. I doubt you've been

My two grown sons, ages thirty-five and twenty-three, have returned to the nest, my home. They didn't ask. They simply showed up.

Accounting for what happened in our childhoods and why and who our parents are and how they succeeded and failed us is the work we all do when we do the work of becoming whole, grown-up people.

We're hurtling through time and space and information faster and faster, seeking that network connection. But at the same time we're falling away from our families and our neighbors and ourselves. We ego-surf and update our status and brush up on which celebrities are ruining themselves, and how. But the cure won't stick.

I wasn't with my mom when she died. No one was. She died alone in a hospital room, and for so many years it felt like three-quarters of my insides were frozen solid because of that.

She's 32, and she has three children. She loves to be pregnant but she doesn't want anymore children in her life. So she decided to help another couple. And she's just been amazing.