......life, how did I get here?

2010-03-17T19:58:00.000-07:00

Grateful for.........

Electricity - since our power went out on Saturday after a storm. I will never take it for granted. Its crappy being cold and living by candle light for four days.

Sorrow - it teaches me to appreciate when things are really good.

Others - I have been humbled by the lessons that others teach me just by their presence in my life. I am learning patience, humility, kindness and extraordinarily, how to be a better person.

My job - when so many are unemployed and my job is closing buildings, I can sit, close my eyes and know just how very fortunate I am. And the fact that I love what I do and even more so I love the children I work with.

My dog - who no matter what the situation, would rather be with me than any other place in the world (even a cold dark house).

My son - who teaches me daily, that I have so much to learn about him and myself as a mother.

For my friends - who know exactly when I need a hug and a cup of coffee.

Of course, not necessarily in this order.

2010-02-01T17:08:00.000-08:00

The days, cold and short, leave me wishing desperately for Spring. Spring a time of renewal. I smile thinking of how many times I cross this threshold of renewal. Always wishing, hoping. Never giving up. I chuckle as I try to think of how often I have stared ahead thinking, "Ah, a new beginning". What is that? Really, a new beginning. I have had so many, that it feels as if a book has been written but not one chapter is successfully completed. Ha! Its a complicated book. A book that a reader would start with enthusiasm slowly understanding that its not going anywhere, though the character would like to believe otherwise.

What does wishing for Spring mean to me? What is it that I hope to see upon that Spring day that will change this harsh cold winter day? Is it possible that after all, I am a hopeless optimist? Perhaps. In truth, looking forward to a new day is what keeps me going. Knowing that tomorrow some small wonderful thing may happen to bring about change.

Life is like that you know. Always and forever changing. Challenging, beautiful, and oh so complicated.

2009-10-28T16:07:00.000-07:00

Its been raining for two days. I don't mind it. I find the rain soothing at times, especially when I am having trouble sleeping. I love waking in the middle of the night to the sound of it drumming against my air conditioner. During the day it can be a bit of a nuisance, especially when I have to travel between school buildings. It is hard to go from building to building and keep my paperwork and work stuff dry, but other wise, I don't mind it.

Today feels very much like a fall day, wet leaves making the roads shiny with their colorful presence. I love this time of year, just before the rush of Holidays when I can just admire the beauty of the day and fall into the ease of the evening after work. I love cooking and knowing that something hot and delicious will tantalize my mouth. I love not having to rush anywhere and to be able to just listen to the wind and the leaves blowing about knowing that soon, very soon winter will be upon us.

For tonight, I will relish the sounds of the cool evening, the sounds of the wind blowing and I will be grateful that I don't have to work tonight.

2009-10-21T17:27:00.000-07:00

I was nervous about calling but I needed to ask him something. There are certain things that I've grown accustomed to, in which he is the one that I rely on. Some of those things are questions about technical things. His sister answers the phone, it is awkward for things had gotten ugly at times and now I just wanted to tell her how very much I liked her and admired her.

He picks up the line and its like a light of warmth comes through the line. I ask how he is and he says he is happy. The tears well up for I can sense it and feel it. Its like the heaviness is gone and is replaced by the lightness of a soul. I don't cry because I am sad, which I am in many ways but more, because I am happy. Happy for this child man that I love.

His lightness persists in his words and I can't really explain it but its as if I can feel the warmth of it penetrating my being. I almost wanted to reach out and touch his face and say "see I knew you would be because your journey was not to end with me". He tells me he misses me sometimes and my heart aches because I feel as if my child has left his nest and I can't watch over him anymore and I can't help but let the tears run their course. I want to hug him and tell him that I am not far from reach if he should ever need me. I know that we cannot be together for that is really not the purpose of us.

As we finish our simple conversation, I have a lump in my throat and I can barely get that very small word out "goodbye". He is my Allen forever.

2009-10-18T06:59:00.000-07:00

The rain is light but consistent. I sit here, in the quiet of my rental apartment, examining my finances, paying bills and wondering when and how I will be able to plant my feet and feel like I've finally landed home.

The sound of the rain hitting the air conditioner soothes me. I am still in my PJ's feeling quite lazy and introspective. My coffee is not quite as hot as I like it and I debate whether I should get off the couch and heat another cup. I like this quiet. I like sitting with my aloneness and letting myself feel what ever it is that I feel. Things could get messy in the coming months, what with Jon applying for colleges, my added payment of a new car, the mortgage on a house, my rent for the apartment and all the other incidentals, I should probably feel something of a bit of panic. Yet, I don't, I don't feel scared. Maybe I should be. Maybe I am delusional and have this Pollyannaish attitude that will not serve me well. Maybe my faith in God is helping me. I don't know really. I just know that I wake each day hopeful.

I think I will just have that second cup of coffee and I will sit, close my eyes and let the sound of rain fill me and for today I will believe that it will all be OK.

2009-10-17T16:09:00.000-07:00

Just in time for Winter, sleet, and snow and not to mention all those aggressive drivers, my 17 year old gets his license. Due to the fact that we are but a one car family, we had to get another car. So this was how it all went down.

October 8th - At 8 am we join all the other young anxious drivers at the lineup for DMV drivers test. An hour of waiting puts my son in an extreme state of nervous chatter. He is laughing quite loud at his own humor. I laugh a nervous kind of laugh.

9:10 - a very serious woman comes to the passenger window and requests forms. We hand them over. She dismisses me to the corner on the street where all the other mothers wait in their work clothes looking uptight with deep lines on their forehead.

9:20 - My car pulls out, lady hands Jon a piece of paper. She gets out, smiles at me and walks over to next anxious teenager. I get in car. Jon, " I passed". I sigh very very deeply.

I drive him to school. After school his first question, "mom can I have the car, I need to go to the mall"? Me, "sighing heavily again yet not wanting to make him feel my fears. "Sure honey, just be care". I hold back because really, I have a list about 10 feet long of instructions, directions, alerts and rules that I'd like to impart on my eager teen.

He leaves. I am in my bedroom organizing (makes me feel in control when I have none). My friend Lisa calls and I notice it is dark out. I start to cry deeply and loudly, she being an expert by now, says "oh, don't cry". After we hang up I continue to sob, scared at this stage of my life. Terrified at the possibilities. I throw up.

2009-09-30T16:05:00.000-07:00

I was thinking of my mother, who will soon turn 93. She often comes to mind when I am going through a major life change. My mother has always been the strongest person I know. As a child I found her formidable and at times unapproachable, as an adult she is my treasured friend. Her strength use to scare me, now it gives me courage to face my own life and my fears.

My life is once again in a challenging place. Not horrible, but not what one would call easy. I am separated from my husband, he has moved to Indiana and eventually I will be divorced once again. My son will soon graduate from High School and I will face what I thought would not come again...an empty house.

I visit my mother weekly or as often as I can. She lives in a city apartment by herself. Her disposition and outlook is to be admired and at times envied. For the longest time it had not dawned on me that my mother is getting old. Only recently, did I allow the thought to enter my mind as I watch her struggle getting up from the chair, as I watch her slow, steady and conscientious steps. She smiles at me always with confidence. She is quick to tell me humorous stories and tales from the neighborhood. Stories about friends or people on TV. There is a soft and quiet peacefulness that soaks into me when I am with her.

As I get ready to head home, I kneel in front of her, pulling her body into me and smelling her. She smells like home, like childhood. As I hold her, I know with certainty that she raised me to be strong like her. As she smooths my hair and puts her hands on my face, without words she lets me know that she see's me exactly as I've seen her. Strong and formidable. Without words my mother fills me with her love and her faith in me.

2008-12-18T16:11:00.000-08:00

This is a post I started many months ago.
My marriage is ending by my choice and though I understand and know this to be what is best for me, the heart is breaking slowly and surely. For reasons that really don't matter nor do I wish to detail, after three years I am calling it quits. I think of all the songs and movies ever written depicting the one being left as the hero and the one leaving as the villain and I wonder if any one ever took the time to understand and get insight into how very difficult and painful it is to be the one to leave. This is my second marriage. I had such high hopes for a marriage filled with understanding, love and commitment.

I like being married, I like the smells and sounds of it. I like having someone to sleep with at night. I like the sense of belonging that you get when you look at your partner. As I begin anew, I know that the road ahead will be a difficult one. That the challenges will be many, not just because of my marriage ending but because each event in our lives triggers a tsunami of others.
I am working on preparing myself for these things.

My husband is a man that I love, he is someone whose presence in my life has taught me many things. At times the journey was painful, but at times it was beautiful. He is right about one thing, "I don't have what it takes". I don't have what it takes to have a relationship with him. It was difficult, painful, and so much more work that it had to be. As I watched my wedding video, I wonder if my tears then were from happiness or from fear that it would end.

At this point, there is anger, resentment and much sadness. I hope that one day, we can each look back and perhaps see the gifts the other gave. I hope that one day we can reach out to each other again. I have no regrets, I married the man that I love.

2008-10-20T16:51:00.000-07:00

I just realized its close to another holiday, Halloween and I have not been blogging since early September, actually, another holiday - Labor Day. It might turn out to be a convenient thing to just blog around Holidays. This takes away the stress of realizing how little time I have to blog, having to come up with more blogging ideas (Im sure you've noticed my ineptitude of late), and not feeling guilty every time I tune in and notice how much time has passed.

Well, the truth be told, is that I am obsessed. Obsessed with politics, economics and more politics. I spend enormous amounts of time reading blogs on the upcoming elections. The Huffington Post is one of my favorites which I used to just read in the mornings but have increasingly been abnormally enthralled by lately, sometimes reading it at various intervals throughout the day for fear I might miss some new neo-con brilliance. I have joined the campaigning band wagon for Obama. I try to volunteer as much as I can and have often thought of taking the next for weeks off to go volunteer. Of course, considering the course our economy is taking, I seriously control my impulsive thoughts and limit it to just doing it when I can. I need my job, especially when job security is so precious. I try not to watch Fox News for members of its journalistic staff have at time turned me into a person who throws things at the TV and uses words that are more than just colorful. At times I can be quite poetic with these words if I do say so myself.
I do have to say thankfully, that my obsession with the media and economics saved me big bucks in my 401. After much obsessive reading, I decided back in May 2008 to flip my portfolio to only 20% stocks. Much to my reps disappointment, I made a wise choice for the time being. I am, I must admit a scardycat and don't like to take chances with my only savings.

I am a bit worried for myself after November 4th. What will I do when it is over and I no longer find the thrill I have found in the past weeks. I might well become seriously depressed. My worse fear though, what if Obama loses? Dear God just saying it makes me want to cross myself. If that happens, I have seriously warned my family that I will be moving out of the country. Palin scares the bejesus out of me, seriously - wink, wink, you betcha.

Im thinking Uraguay seems lovely.

2008-09-02T17:56:00.000-07:00

Labor Day comes around so
very, very quickly.....
The Kids Sarah, Jason, my Jon, and Dylan (sorry Jason and Dylan if I got you missed up - they're twins). Frolicking at Jones Beach displaying Jason's trophy from his tennis finals.

Bob and I happy as can be or just delirious from the heat.......
Our Annual summer picture, Paula, Janet and I.....(we have taken this similar picture for the past 10 years or so)

Sneaking a picture of Jon as we head out for our first day of School. He was much happier the night before.....the picture may have sent him over the edge (.....he's almost 16 - oh well)

Buster, had the hardest time with back to school. He was a bit confused as to the early 6 am wake up (he's used to sleeping in till about 8 in the summers). Had no inclination to go out and do his doggy thing. He looked at me from his favorite chair in the kitchen and sauntered over to his bed where he just went right back to sleep...... Oh how I wished I could have done the same.

2008-08-30T06:47:00.000-07:00

It is the last weekend in August. My birthday was this past week marking every year "back to school" and the end of summer. I am sincerely grateful to have a job in a school that grants me the summers off, but having summers off just makes it more difficult to start again. I am leaving later today....with a heavy heart.
The garden is full and beautiful minus a few mishaps with the cucumber plants and the tomato cages falling over, it was a good season and now fall harvesting is upon us. My husband Allen will stay here in our home in PA while I head back to Long Island (mwahhh!!) - right now I am not quite so fond of him since he gets to live the life I so yearn for all, the time. I worry that the canning will overwhelm him since he works full-time and only has the evenings to can the tomatoes. Its a long process, he has already decided he is not boiling them in order to peel them. He will keep the skins on....I would choose to peel. Oh well.

I made a delicious pasta salad last night for dinner, using veggies from garden.

Use any hardy pasta, cook al dente. cool it off with some cold water (so it stays al dente).
Pour some olive oil - eye ball it, to keep from sticking. I tend to be generous.
then put veggies in and some feta cheese.
I used arugula, basil, cucumbers, little yellow pear tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, Italian green pepper, green and wax beans (blanched for about 3 minutes and cut into bite size pieces and feta cheese. It was light yet hardy and very tasty. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

I will be back next weekend so I am not gone for good, but I will truly miss my daily jaunts, the quiet and peace that my garden offers me.

2008-08-15T15:34:00.000-07:00

In just about 10 days I will celebrate another birthday, thank God. As I have matured (not so much), I have come to appreciate looking back just a bit. My girlfriends and I, all respectfully in our upper forties and lower to mid fifties, at times sit around and ponder those wonderful younger years that seem so long gone. Which makes me realize that I truly did not appreciate the oils in my skin, my dark lovely hair, the skin that at times betrayed me by allowing a pimple to surface. The above picture was taken in my 8th grade classroom by my Science teacher Mr. Vazquez because I said out loud " I am not a pretty girl". He felt I had no esteem and he was probably right but it was right around puberty where we all hate ourselves. He told me that he would take this picture and one day, many years later I would look at it and understand just how pretty I was.

He was right, over the years at one stage or another I have found some things that did not appeal to me and the older I got the more grateful I became when I looked at pictures at all stages of my life. Another Birthday is an opportunity to celebrate all the years. Like the photo around my 9th birthday (which was the only birthday celebrated as a child) where my hairclips are not really aligned and the part in my hair is a tad off, but my eyes are young and full of promise and my hair is not needing of a dye job.

My friend Lisa and I are known to complain about our weight, our hair, our complexion, the dark circles under our eyes, the cellulite, the bulge in our belly....blah, blah, blah, well its life and its been good.

Yes, we are aging, yes some days we look better than others, yes the gray will someday win, No we will never be 20 again, and the spring in our step may be a little painful at times, but we absolutely must continue to take all opportunities given to us to bring out our inner child, though the merry-go-round does seem a little slower.

2008-07-30T18:41:00.000-07:00

Summer is so many things to me. Time with my son to do special things like hiking while trying to avoid the poison ivy, the ability to spend the summer with my husband, the wonderful ability to go to the country for long stretches of time after a long winter in the city, the ability to sleep in and lazily and slowly arise to meet the day and the songs of the birds, to be blessed with being able to work in my garden and seek out potato bugs through my many tomato plants, to lay in my hammock after working in the garden, with muddy feet and dirty hands and feeling like I have everything I need.

For these simple pleasures, and knowing how to appreciate the sounds and smells around me, like the hundreds of lightening bugs in the open field and the threat of a good rain fall coming across the ridge, and the smell of freshly cut grass, I am truly grateful. Ah, I am rich. I do love summer!

2008-06-24T12:47:00.000-07:00

I expect to pass through this world but once; any good thing therefore that I can do, or any kindness that I can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now; let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.: Ettiene De Grellet

I often try to remember that the world is not just about me. I try to remember that many small attempts on my part to be aware of the impact my behaviors have on others is never in vain. I try to remember that I am just a small speck on this planet and that it is my duty to be aware and conscious of how my actions or lack of affect those around me even if they are strangers. As a result, I am often saddened by the fact that many people don't behave this way and that these thoughts never even cross their minds.

After work today I go to Trader Joe's (in an upscale neighborhood) and as I am sitting in my car trying to gather my keys and my reusable shopping bags, I notice a woman leaving her shopping cart in a slightly slanted walk just a few feet from the cart dispenser area as she walks away. I note that the cart does a swirl of a dance because it is slightly breezy and does not have solid ground to stand on, before it aims straight for my car. I hold my breath and close my eyes for I know that I cannot stop it in time. As it crashes upside down onto my drivers side door, the woman turns around and comes to retrieve it. She picks it up and looks at me. I get out and look at the damage. It is dented in not just one but two places. She looks at me and says "That was not the cart I had". In amazement I just stare at her. I tell her that this is why it is necessary for people to care enough to just put the cart back in its spot. She again states "my cart was the one next to that one" - I am just fuming. Its not about my car, its just a car. Its about the complete disregard and lack of responsibility. She turns and walks to her car, a shiny new Audi convertible. She looks back at me, like I am some pathetic creature as she drives away.

My car is a 2002 Honda Civic with 135,000 miles on it and I try hard to keep it in good shape because I cannot afford to purchase a new car. My car looked really good and does not reflect its age. As she drove away, I felt sad. I felt sad that some could be so thoughtless. I always walk my shopping cart back to its place, even when the weather is less than desirable because I feel that it is my responsibility. It is a small way to show my community that I care, that I value others time and property, that I am not so full of myself that I forget to take care of the details that make us a human being. I don't believe this in it entirety, but it does seem that people who have more wealth can at times be unconscious about doing the right thing. That there are some rules that just don't apply to them, making them seem selfish and indignant.

2008-06-16T17:45:00.000-07:00

Do people know how much effort goes into
producing a knitted baby blanket?

Well I for one have to admit that many years ago I received a couple of knitted blankets for my sweet bundle of joy. I, not being a knitter back then (not that I can brag about being one now) did not truly show gratitude to those who spent hours knitting those blankets. Until just recently I had not realized the enormous patience and skill it takes to knit. Giving someone a knitted gift is the ultimate gift of love for you don't just simply walk into a store and say "I'll take that"-- oh no, it takes much time, love and skill.

This past Saturday I went to my niece's baby shower and lovingly gave her my first complete knitted (by pattern) baby blanket and baby booties. Consumed by the overwhelming stack of gifts and an all attentive audience, my niece smiled at me and said thank you, but not before some sneaky pair of small hands reached over yanked that precious gift and shoved it into the abyss of bags in the corner. All the weeks of love I poured into that blanket and booties shoved into the bottom of Babys R' Us bags. No oohing and aahing over my gift of love. OK, so I got over it, but then I felt the guilt of never truly thanking those knitters for taking the time to knit those precious blankets they gave me.

Now that I am (unofficially) a knitter I can truly appreciate it for the art that it is. I have recently come across a web site that tells of upcoming knitting events.
I will personally be attending the Stitch n' Pitch at Shea Stadium for the Mets game in September. I am actually a Yankee fan but there were no knitting events there, sadly to those faithful Yankee fans - its all about the knitting right now. Though I am not a fan of the Mets, it has come to my attention that their new stadium is almost complete and that I will be going to one of the very last games (this game is on a Thursday night and the last game is that weekend) to be played at this famous stadium, so without knowing I will be part of a historical moment and we can all thank the fact that I am now knitting. I wonder if I am going to become one of those weird people that takes her hobby way too seriously? When I start tatooing knitting needles on my body, someone ( Li ) please stop me. One of my new favorite blogs,-- she's funny as heck....Crazy Aunt Purl (and yes, it does have some knitting anecdotes).

2008-05-01T18:25:00.000-07:00

As I wandered around my house cleaning today, I listened to NPR (National Public Radio) and to add to my growing concerns over the state of our economy, I am blasted (for the second time) with an interview discussing the now impending doom that our children are facing to get a higher education. It is reported that many banks, and I had heard this very passively a couple of weeks ago, are backing out of giving Federal student loans. In Pennsylvania, this is now a very real issue. It is said that due to the irresponsible behaviors of the government and banks, they are in such debt that they can no longer provide students with Federal government loans.

As many who have had to get student loans and are still sacked with the payments, the benefit of a Federal loan is that it is backed by the Federal Government, which means that if the person becomes disabled, unemployed or dies, their loans are forgiven. The rates are also lower than a private loan. Well, here we are in another economic crisis. This one affects the lives and future of the same kids who are suppose to go out there and make changes in the world. For many kids who already struggle or who come from poor backgrounds this could possibly mean "No College" even if they are top of their class. One Penn State administrator spoke about the many students who have loans with banks that are folding. He spoke also about the many kids who cannot get loans because with private loans the rates are high and they need good credit. Making it impossible for some to attend college. This is only the very beginning of a huge problem as I see it. Another breakdown in what is turning out to be a disastrous decade.

I personally worry, my son is now 15 and thinking of his future and what schools he'd like to attend. How in the world is he going to be able to do this. I myself have a good size student federal loan and have always been grateful for its flexibility, especially during hard times when I had to defer them until I got on my feet. Those days are officially over.

After this news tidbit, I had to run to the gas station where the gas line in the pouring rain was long and fearsome. As cars waited because it was worth it to wait for the Valero gas at $3.75 than to get it quickly at Mobile for $3.97, I am filled with anxiety. My faithful Honda Civic jugged down $40.00 worth of gas when only 5 years ago it cost $16.00 to filler' up. I am grateful, as I look across at the woman on her cell phone in her giant Yukon XL.

I am scared and very worried......

2008-04-16T16:39:00.000-07:00

I've taken up a new hobby or perhaps as some may view it, an obsession. A year ago I asked my loving family for a beginners knitting kit which included some yarn, needles, a video, and some instructions for completing a hat and scarf set. I had to rewind that video a gisilleon times never really capturing that aha moment when I would get this thing called casting on. I miserably tried and tried again, faithfully watching the dreaded smiley lady with the soft voice that was turning me into a homicidal maniac. Well, months of trying and getting just a bit ahead did not lead to my coveted hat and scarf. I did learn some things though, knitting requires, patience, care, deep concentration, and committment. It also helps if you are on a diet, for... you cannot eat and knit at the same time.

Fast forward to a year later......I have unraveled the same ball of yarn several times on my needle. It seems that I finally learned how to cast on but, while I knit I am adding stitches that should not be there. I attend a small knitting class at adult education - there were suppose to be a total of 6 classes but, due to low registration numbers there will only be five, the teachers says " I'm sure you are all OK with this, uh "NO". I need all the help I can get. There is something to be said
about a person to person lesson because some how by some divine miracle I finally have my "Aha" moment and manage to finish my scarf with give and take a few mistakes that serve to remind me of all the pain in my neck and the growing pain of carpal tunnel . It is not as relaxing as you may think.

My friend Marie and I decide that we are not only ready to knit but to actually take on a knitting retreat with other female knitters. We sign up for a weekend of knitting at The Inn at Manchester.

We don't particularly want to hang out with these women all day, we just want to go to an hour of knitting here and there and then go for a walk, perhaps take on some shopping. Due to my, as my friend Janet calls it, the social work disease. I am sick of talking, listening and my social quota is filled rather quickly. Honestly, I can't stand listening to my own voice at times. I begged all my loved ones, for a weekend free of cell phone calls and once there, I turned off my phone. Ahh, what a joy not to have to use that darn thing.

Back at the lovely Inn, I am completely overwhelmed by the manic use of needles and yarns. These women were serious knitters and were whipping out entire outfits that they are currently working on. At this revelation, I quickly announce that I really have no "knitting goals" and that I don't intend on ever making a bolero jacket with matching beret. They, being serious knitters are quite disappointed in me and my dear friend Marie steps in and announces "I'd like to learn how to cable" ahhh, the women smile, thrilled with her desire to learn. I shoot her a look that indicated pure betrayal. The women surround her and take her on as a knitter, a serious knitter. Her new found friend Julie who gave her a one on one tutorial, was enormously proud and helpful. Alas, while I am out on the porch by myself trying to count stitches for my baby blanket (and I am rather enjoying the warmth of the sun, rocking in my chair and being an outcast), Marie has that ever integral "Aha moment. She has now mastered the cable stitch.........

On Sunday morning, our last day at the Inn and last opportunity to ask those ever challenging knitting questions, I am left with a feeling that I should have jotted down some possible questions, but I was blank, nothing came to me as I watched the women finishing their sweaters socks and handbags. I wanted to say " hey I'm sorry, that I was not prepared with all the questions, but I was a little overwhelmed with the zealousness of the group and I became paralyzed." So cheerfully everyone began to say their goodbye's and good lucks and they kindly looked at me wishing me well.

After this first time knitting experience I think I will be ready for my next knitting retreat and darn it, I will be prepared. I saw on one of the websites that there is one to Spain.......now there's one I'd like to go to.

2008-02-20T14:40:00.000-08:00

I need to address peoples need to ski. I took my son and his friend snow tubing since it is winter, and school break, and it is something for kids to do which will allow me a couple of hours to catch up on my reading. Jon and his friend are not proficient in the art of skiing and so a suggestion for snow tubing seems adequate. They seem to be content with this, but I am sure that if I'd just let them hang out on the couch playing video games, they would have been just as happy.

We arrive at Sno Mountain, and the parking lot is not heavily loaded. It actually, seems a little too empty, but I am not going to complain since my true mission is to start my new book The Girls, by Lori Lansens. Before we even left, I had a feeling the boys were under dressed but what do I know about snow activities. Being born in Puerto Rico, my body does not understand any need to be subjected to cold blustery wind. To say that I have an aversion to skiing and at times, its patrons, is a mild understatement. My one definitive hope is the awaiting lodge with its comfy leather chairs, couches and giant fireplace. For this I am appropriately dressed, oh yes siree. Once inside I kindly ask the attendant where the main lodge might be, as the boys get ready for their jaunt up the hill to the tubing area. The kind attendant looks at me with a kind of confused smile and says, "uh, this is it". "What!!", it can't be. This crowded, noisy, filled with kids place. it just cannot be.

Jon and his friend, whose name incidentally is John, go off, leaving me perplexed and utterly disoriented. I wander about in a circle, akin to my dog buster's act, when he is trying to find a comfortable place to nestle in. Aren't ski lodges suppose to be lodgey type of pretty wood places with comfy chairs, big fireplaces and a token deer hanging somewhere? uh, obviously somebody screwed up big time.

In the midst of this ugliness, yes it gets worse, bad fifties doowop music playing, a couple of TV's and very loud children crying. As I find a seat in one of the wire mesh benches I am assaulted by a family throwing all their belongings into my personal space. I look up and smile wryly. "I hate this place". I pick up my book and try to pretend that I am in the pretty wood lodge, with nice classical music playing, "screeeech, uh yeah right," just then a horrible 50's tune (which under different circumstances I might enjoy)starts to play. God help me! OK, I try again not to be distracted by the nastiness around me, but it really is hard with aliens wearing heavy moon boots walking around. I just don't get it, the whole love being cold, flying uncontrollably about without breaks. I even gazed out the window at one point to see if some clarity about why people love this would dawn on me. Nope, nada. Not one single thing, even though I've heard from friends that something about that swooshing thing down a dangerous slope is exhilarating. The last time I took Jon skiing with friends, I was traumatized just by the process of renting the skis, putting on the skis and watching some kid lose control and almost crash right through the doors of the lodge. Uhhhh, it give me chills. It just looks like more trouble than its worth.

Ahhh, its nice to be home in front of my computer blogging while the boys are back playing their video games. Tomorrow I will try to come up with something else that will tear them away from the videos.........maybe bowling. Do they still let people chain smoke in those places? Yuk.

2008-02-18T06:27:00.000-08:00

Why, Barack?

(first of all I know its been a while, and I don't really have a good excuse
for my failure at blogging lately, but worse than anything I have not
been on top of reading my blogs either. So I will simply leave it at
"LIFE - it happens")

About four years ago, I read a wonderful book written by a young Senator about his life, what it was like grow up with a black father and a white mother and how certain events evolved his life. I was deeply moved by his honesty, his ability to speak about his mistakes so freely and by his incredible mind set and intelligence. I passed the book to a friend stating "read this, for I believe he may one day be a great President".

Yesterday I watched Larry King Live as he interviewed Michelle Obama, as she sincerely discussed the Presidential Race, her husband and her family. Again I was intrigued. Michelle discussed and talked of her husband. Candidly speaking of his greatness but also of his ability to make mistakes. Unlike our current administration, Barack would openly admit them. She mentioned that this Presidency for her came from a view as a mother. Discussing her concerns over the future of her young children.

Just last week as I spoke to my husband, I spoke to him of the side of this Presidency that I have not heard many speak of and that is that Barack Obama has two young daughters. I told my husband that I felt that his having young children is a huge reflection on the work that he would take on as President. His children's future is in his hand and hence the future of all our children. This impacted me so, for I believe that so many of us are concerned not only with the state of our financial woes, the War, Global Warming but in the end what sticks with me is, what have we done to the world that our children are suppose to live in? As I see the world around me and we watch the mess that our current Idiot President has not only gotten us into, but refuses to take responsibility for except to say, "We are doing just fine", my heart saddens for the future of our children and their children for it will be a hard place to live in. Unfortunately, for who ever takes over, it is going to be an incredibly harsh Presidency, for the task at hand might just be irrecoverable.

I am ready for change, as a matter a fact it could not come soon enough.

2008-01-02T15:46:00.000-08:00

My year in Review.....

I am taking stock of 2007 and the events that surrounded it.....this I will attempt without a calender in front of me. I include all blessings, the good, the bad and the somedays extremely ugly...

* My mother turns 90 and as a family we gather for a fun and memorable family dinner in the Bronx's little Italy.

* I meet my husbands family for the first time at the 2007 family reunion. I meet my mother-in-law for the first time.....she's something else.

* My son turns fifteen reminding me that I am no longer a young mother.

* I find, to my deepest sorrow, that I am 15-20 pounds heavier than I was five years ago (what can I say I love and savor all wonderful foods).

* I realize that I've gone past the number of years that I wanted to be renting my apartment. I've crunched the $$$ amounts over the years and I try hard to keep the vomit down.

* I turned 45, which my husband kindly reminded me this weekend that I need to change my profile since it still states that I am 44 years old. I say why not just wait till I'm 50 to change it.

* My husband moves to another state and we are now married and dating at the same time.

* I didn't think it was possible, but yes I am more disgusted by our current president and his staff of Zombies.

* I saw Blue Man Group for the first time. I thought it was quite genius.

* My inner consciousness grew just a little more and for this I am grateful.

* My step-daughter Corinna received a Bill Gates Scholarship and went off to Cambridge University.....we are all very proud.

* A dream fulfilled, I went to Italy with my son Jon.

* I signed up to classmates.com and found two friends from High School which I last saw in 1980.

* We got a new Coal furnace in our home in Pennsylvania, which I must say is proving itself to be a wise and warm purchase.

* I watched "A Christmas Story for about the 30th time".

* My ex-husband broke his shoulder on Christmas Eve and I found compassion that could have been lost forever and ever somewhere in the depths of my heart. I walked his dog for several mornings, in the cold, during my vacation and I did so with good will.

* I finally embarked on the Hypertension boat with the rest of my family.

* It was the first year that I really simplified during the holidays. I did not mail a single card, but felt guilty so I made many phone calls....bottom line - it may be easier to just send the cards.

* I did not watch reality TV.

* I became a member of Public Radio after many years of listening and not contributing.....it felt good and a bonus...... I received two CD's.

* My grey hair is definitely winning the battle (the ugly - not on every one, put mine seems to have a hazardous mind of its own, its not all shiny and luxurious).

* I'm still in love with my husband.

* I am still surrounded by my same loving friends - Janet, both Lisa's, Paula, & Dianne.

* I did not get the flu or sinus infections ( the latter being a yearly visitor ).

* Over all I see myself as an incredibly lucky individual, whose life is wonderfully unique and full of wonderful delights, including the people in it.

I have no New Years resolutions but I will be working continually on being here, now and present.

2007-12-28T08:59:00.000-08:00

"I long ago realized that my personal life was to be subjugated to my political responsibilities. When my democratically elected father, Prime Minister Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto was arrested in 1977 and subsequently murdered, the mantle of leadership of the Pakistan Peoples Party, our nation's largest, nationwide grassroots political structure, was suddenly thrust upon me. It was not the life I planned, but it is the life I have. My husband and children accept and understand that my political responsibilities to the people of Pakistan come first, as painful as that personally is to all of us. I would like to be planning my son's move to his first year at college later this month, but instead I am planning my return to Pakistan and my party's parliamentary election campaign."

"I didn't choose this life. It chose me." (as written by Benazir Bhutto this past fall in a Blog for the Huffington Post).

Upon reading about the death of Benazir Bhutto, Prime Minister of Pakistan, I came upon the above passage she wrote for the Huffington Post. It was requested by her long time friend Arianna Huffington when they last visited with each other. Her death is a great loss, not only to her followers in Pakistan, but to the world itself. Her long struggle for democracy and the rights of her people has been a lifelong mission, alas the one that would end her life. I am propelled to feel such sadness for the loss of such a remarkable woman. Her life, so reflective of generosity, strength, courage and self-sacrifice makes me wonder if one is born with such ordained character strength.

"I didn't choose this life. It chose me" - may be a lesson to all of us when we are so ready to complain and not easily accept certain situations in our life. It is a true statement, because in fact, life just is. As much as we'd like to think that we have control over it and the events that surround it, it is just going to happen. Life is a gift and we should live it with purpose as best as we can. Embrace it all, for all things are a gift, even those that are painful come with some meaning and lesson. It is God's way of teaching us to make whatever necessary changes need to be made to make way for a purer, happier and more purposeful way of living.

Her death and her words are a reminder to me to become more conscious about my own life.

2007-12-16T13:47:00.000-08:00

Tis the season to be.........harried?
My quest to not be a Scrooge, and I am determined!!

Yesterday, I decided to bite the bullet and head to the mall, yes the mall, just a week or so away from Christmas, I decide this. Why? Don't know! I could sense the crowds before I even get there. Traffic is heavy but nothing intolerable. So I proceed. Its interesting that since I really had no other purpose than to return something to Walmart (never made it within 20 feet of the register) and I wanted to put to use some coupons, to get Jon Jeans, that I should pick a Saturday afternoon (height of feverish shopping for some) to do this.

Parking was not bad, and I managed a coveted spot in front of Macy's (Christmas Capital of the world) though I had no purpose to go to Macy's. Walk through I dare, just to get to the inside of the mall. As I ascend through the crowds, I can't tell you the craziness before my eyes. People with huge piles in their arms of stuff, while trying to drink their $5.00 Starbucks coffee. I could not help but smile (yes, slightly smugly) since I just had a small purpose and absolutely NO Christmas shopping to do.

Once in the Mall, aha, the line for the much desired and at times, feared picture with Santa is
in full rage. Parents holding their infants and maybe an older sibling, all dressed up to meet with the most powerful man in December. Reminding me of my favorite Christmas movie "A Christmas Story" when Santa turns over little Ralphie to the elves, who shove him down the slide before he gets to tell him what he'd like for Christmas. Once again I smile(not in a mean spirit), as I watch parents frazzled because their little one is not wanting to stay still, their hair is a mess and one little girl has a rip on her tights and her pigtails are no longer even.

Now, I am realizing that I am way over dressed and I am starting to get hot. Being overly layered was not a good idea. Yet I am enjoying my foray into the mall. It is crowded, loud, decorated and it seems like every single store is having a sale. I finally hustle myself to the second floor where I find the store I am looking for and hooray for me the jeans are on sale. I easily find the size I need and get on line (which to my delight, was not long). I take out my wallet and take out my coupons, and would you believe there is a catch, darn. In order to use my $25.00 gift cards, I have to spend $50, and to boot the reason I got the 3 gift cards was because I already spent $150.00. So, what I thought was a sale was just a way to get me to buy more. Oh, well. The young man at the register kindly gave me the option of picking up a few more items so that I could use all 3 cards....uhhh no thanks. So I get the jeans and I happily turn to the people behind me and give them the last two cards. They were very grateful since it would mean $25.00 off their purchases. I smile again.......and wish them all a very MERRY CHRISTMAS.

[Ralphie is visiting Santa at the department store, only he can't remember what he wanted]
Santa Claus: How about a nice football?
Ralphie as Adult: [narrating] Football? Football? What's a football? With unconscious will my voice squeaked out 'football'.
Santa Claus: Okay, get him out of here.
Ralphie as Adult: [narrating] A football? Oh no, what was I doing? Wake up, Stupid! Wake up!
Ralphie: [Ralphie is shoved down the slide, but he stops himself and climbs back up] No! No! I want an Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle!
Santa Claus: You'll shoot your eye out, kid.

2007-12-15T06:46:00.000-08:00

On being Homeless.....

I have lived on Long Island for 21 years. Sitting in my rented apartment and reading the current trends on the housing market, I am astonished but not surprised to see how steeply things have declined. Yesterday I heard a report on our minimum wage and how though the cost of living has increased, the minimum wage has steadily remained stoic and solid in its ability to not grow. For the past several years I have watched my neighbors, expand, rebuild and explode their homes into enormous dwellings. I, on the other hand, sold my very small home 5 years ago, and though I had money to buy a home, there was nothing feasibly affordable for me on Long Island. Back then I was devastated to lose my home, but now I am almost believing it was a gift that I would later learn to appreciate.

Many homes have been knocked down to make room for bigger, yet less interesting new homes. These homes sit empty, like big card board boxes waiting for someone to come and fill them. I see many friends struggling to keep up with the cost of keeping up their homes. Fighting everyday to deal with the increase of taxes, and the skyrocketing price of oil. Those who took out line of credits on their home equity when their homes value was optimal, are now seeing their value decrease and are left with a loan payment on something that no longer exists. How did we not see this coming? Did we really believe that things could stay up forever and ever? Sadly, this is not just happening to a few people, it is happening nationwide. I watch the elderly with their fixed income, barely able to afford to keep the homes they've lived in their whole lives, going to vote locally to see if by some miracle, their voice will be heard.

Then you have the young professionals, laden with their student loans, credit card debt trying to find affordable housing. I spoke to a young teacher and her husband who is in finance, and they shared that they've been trying to save because they both grew up here and this is where they too want to raise their own children. Unfortunately even with two incomes, when they crunch the numbers, they would be living pay check to pay check. Another young woman with two children shared that she and her husband bought their house at the very top of the market. Only being able to afford a small home. They are now in a situation where they have two kids, cannot afford to expand because they are afraid of taking out another loan and if they sold their home they would lose money because it is no longer worth what they paid for it.

It has become a sad truth, that my son will probably never be able to afford to buy a home on Long Island. People have be squeezed into tiny corners with few options left. It makes me wonder, will we really be able to provide a better life for our children, like our parents did so very long ago?

2007-12-02T13:57:00.000-08:00

To bring meaning to my previous post, I need to share a story with you about a family that I met many years ago when I was a full time Social Worker at a local hospital. To do this I must start with yesterday. I was on-call and got a call from the hospital that a patient had just come in who needed to be sent to a psych hospital. The young boy was 14 and was experiencing some serious sadness and was incredibly overwhelmed with school.

When I met with him and his family, his mother looked very familiar, but I did not say anything because in my field you meet so many people with so many stories and its so easy to mix them up. His mother, a very sweet and tearful woman, shared their story with me and told me that I was the Social Worker who helped them 7 years ago when her son, then about 6 was diagnosed with a brain tumor which was cancerous. Being that it was a grade one, the prognosis was good. Five months later he would return for another surgery to remove another tumor, this time a grade 4. Since that time in 2001, he has been in remission. Yet, according to him and his family this life changing event would change everything forever and though he is healthy, he is suffering in another way. His mother also pointed out to me that she could never forget my kindness and she felt it was no coincidence that I was on call this night. I spent much time with this family last night, even giving them my number so they can call me any time. I don't typically do this, and its not really acceptable with my bosses but the fact is that this is just another human being reaching out for another one. It is not just about me doing my job, its about being a human being.

As we get closer to the holidays and I hear these stories, and I can assure you that there are so many that I hear, I realize what is important and valuable. This young man who has experienced such tribulations, pain, fear, and anxiety is far braver and more giving than most people I know, including myself. It brings me to think of our fellow blogger Matty, who gives so much to her family as well as others and who's young grandson is another brave soul.

Just a few minutes ago a friend told me that someone who lost his young wife at 39 about 3 years ago, leaving four young children has been diagnosed with cancer in two different areas. I ask myself how can this happen to one family. These poor children.

I ask you all to take this year to simplify, reflect, give thanks and to pray for all those who are in need of our prayers. The power of prayer is powerful and can move mountains if you just believe. You don't have to go to church to have conversations with God. A favorite time is on my way to work in the car when I am given a new day to see, breathe, smell, touch, and be surrounded by those I love. How lucky am I, that I got to see this family again, and to enrich my own life by sharing theirs.

2007-12-01T05:59:00.000-08:00

With the holidays approaching us with a force that can be compared to that of the Bull Races in Spain, I am holding on tight. Christmas has always been my favorite holiday and also the one to that brings me the most stress. This year I am simplifying it even more than last year.

I work with very needy families, both emotionally and financially. I also work at a hospital where I have happened to be on call for the Christmas holiday. In reflection of these things, I have to wonder, what is Christmas all about? The truth is that over time I have seen it evolve from a simple tradition of eating, gathering and yes gifts but not like the gifts of today. Today, it is not unheard of foe someone to get a car for Christmas. The gifts our children ask for are super high tech ( that have nothing to do with interacting with another human being) and well my goodness, these high tech gifts have the price tag to make me choke for a moment ....or two.

I think back to the Christmases I had as a child, of course, because that is all I have to compare it to, and I am saddened. I remember my family gathering at mom's because back then we all lived in the same apartment building and the purchasing of gifts for the kids was a really BIG deal because these were just regular folks, making very little money. If we each got 2 gifts that was huge. I remember it as fun, with all the children running around and the adults laughing and dancing. I remember our silver Christmas tress, which I thought came from a forest filled with them. Living in the city, this tree and all of its family was a phenomenom to me. My mother never asked what I wanted for Christmas, because basically it did not matter. I got what she could afford and I always loved every single thing, well, except for clothes.

Now here I am all grown up and I am facing Christmas, wishing I could revisit the past and show my son just one of those holidays with my family. This year for Christmas day I am seeking to do volunteer work with my family in Pennsylvania. Perhaps, a soup kitchen, a shelter or a nursing home. There is a wonderful feeling that washes over me in giving something to a stranger and watching them smile. Christmas is still a time of rejoicing and giving but this year I'd like to rejoice in giving to others.

When I look around I see how very much we have and that there is nothing that any of us really need. That is the biggest gift, the ability to see how very fortunate we are.

2007-11-22T15:13:00.000-08:00

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it
is like wrapping a present
and not giving it....

~William Arthur Ward

Thanksgiving....Allen is home and gets up at 5:30 to put the Turkey in the oven so as to have it ready for our brunch time Thanksgiving dinner. Jon is sleeping and Allen let's me sleep while he stuffs the turkey and then puts it into the oven. That being done, he quietly slips back into bed and wraps me in a warm embrace.

My family comes around 1:30 and all is done. All we have to do is eat. Though I have a good sized eat in kitchen, it is not big enough to hold 10 people for a formal sit down. Its buffet style and we all gather around to say our graces and be thankful; we fill our plates with Turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potato, home-made cranberry sauce, vegetables and stuffing.

Now all are gone and the dishes are finally done and the kitchen is clean. Allen is taking a nap before going back to PA and Jon is with his dad. The house is quiet and I plug in my small Charlie Brown tree (I love that tree), which still lights up for me after 6 years. Buster lays quietly, after a long day of having everyone pet him. I am grateful....

* For having a family who appreciates my cooking
* For having my husband near
* For my son Jon, that he is healthy
* For having a roof over my head and food to eat
* For my friends and their kindness
* For our health
* For all that I have and even what I don't have
* For my mom, who will be 91 in a week
* For my brother, who remembers and loves to retell stories of me as a child
* For my niece, who's laughter just makes my heart smile
* For my sister, who is highly emotional about old photos she doesn't have but I do (I printed some for her today)
* For having been born into my family and having the life that I now have

For so much more than I could ever put into words, I know that I am blessed each and every day. Happy Thanksgiving and many blessings to all.

2007-11-08T17:26:00.000-08:00

.....Bloggers Block

I've been terribly preoccupied lately with stuff that keeps my mind filled with enough junk that I can't seem to have a moment of enlightenment....so I do apologize. I am absolutely feeling like a nitwit about my blog. Its incredible to me that as someone who regularly has intelligent conversations, reads political newspapers, listens to National Public Radio, and is fairly amusing to others, I have a terrible block.

There you go, I can't think of one thing to say. So, I will bore you with the big event in our home in Pennsylvania this week. Being a home built in the 1800's it has never had a proper heating system. For over 35 years it was used as a summer home by the previous owners. Well now that Allen is living there full-time and I do wish to visit occasionally, we decided we had to get some type of furnace. The truth is that in North Eastern Pennsylvania it gets plenty cold....burrrr, and if my husband wants to see his wife who does not live with him, there's got to be some heat (and NO, body heat does not count).

After much research by Allen, because that's his thing, we (not really) he, decided to go with a coal burning furnace. This project has been, lets say different. My husband built a giant bin in our storage shed taking up all space. The furnace was installed in increments over a 2 week period by my husband, who I must say did all this with deep love and devotion and a joyful heart. OK.

He fired it up yesterday for the first time and through out the day at work, I held my breath, praying he would not blow the house up or worse himself. I really do have faith in abilities, really I do. In the afternoon to my great joy, he emails me a picture of our now fully working furnace...yipeeeee!!Now I did not think......what happens when I am old and "I" have to shovel that coal in from outside, huumm??

2007-11-01T19:37:00.000-07:00

Addendum to my last blog :

As I sat at a Dunkin Donuts this evening waiting to see my grand-daughter Anna's show (Urinetown), I realized thanks to her mom, that today is All Saints Day not Ascension Thursday.....Point in Fact, I really make a terrible Catholic LOL. I can't tell one holy day from the next except for the really popular one like Christmas and Easter. That might be the reason my friend Janet thinks I may have made a good Jew. I honestly think I know more about their holy days.

Regardless, it was still a very fine day for gratitude. In more ways than one. And yes, I am proud to say I have a grand-daughter actually a couple, but thats for another day.

2007-11-01T11:08:00.000-07:00

Today is Ascension Thursday -" The fact itself, the fact of the Ascension, is very simple. It took place forty days after Jesus rose from the dead. Forty days after he had completed His work. Jesus left the apostles and went back to heaven. This is the fact of the Ascension." (quoted from the Archdiocese of Philadelphia)

I took the day off from work as many of my colleagues did today. We get a floating holiday or two and most of us took it, leaving the school district in a frenzy trying to find substitute teachers. My Principal teased me, asking me if I'd be going to morning mass. I chuckled stating that I would pray in the solace of my spiritual place. I have not been in a church since my son did his confirmation 3 years ago. I, having my own personal issues with the Catholic church choose not to attend. Yet, my issues are not with God, so seek him I always do.

Off I went early this morning to seek my place and I found it in a nature preserve near my home. I walked 5 miles relishing in the quiet of the morning even though just a few feet away was a major highway, I was wrapped in the solace of woods and lakes with the only noise coming from the birds and ducks that were enjoying this first day of November. The weather is slightly humid but warm for this time of year, making me worry that this is not a good sign.

I love these days when I am off from work and selfishly don't tell anyone, out of fear that requests to share my time will be imposed upon me. I take great pride in saying no but sometimes it is difficult. As I walk and listen to John Denver on my Ipod, softly so as not to break the beauty around me with too much noise, I see other people who also have taken the time to enjoy this gift from God. There was an elderly couple looking across the lake, they seemed to be lost in a private world as he reached over and kissed his beloved. I smiled and walked on, knowing they too were enjoying this moment.

After my walk is over, I usually rush to get home to see how many chores I can fit in before Jon gets home from school, but not today. I sat on bench with the most perfect view and I prayed. I prayed for a soulful life and one rich in health. I gave thanks for my sight and ability to walk. I thanked God for being so kind and generous in giving us such an exceptional home (earth), and then I cried and asked him to please forgive us for not taking better care of his gift.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5j3R2FMfniA (for your enjoyment)

2007-10-05T08:59:00.000-07:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY JON

It is October 3rd, and I am sitting at dinner in a crowded, loud Mexican restaurant, I am feeling slightly light-headed, from the noise and the sinus infection that afflicted me a couple of days ago. I am not particularly hungry, partly because I don't feel well and partly because my stomach is so big I can barely breath these days. I am pregnant and due on Monday, October 5th, 1992. I am quiet and my husbands children seem to be talking a mile a minute. We are there to celebrate my step-daughters birthday. As I get up for the 3rd time to go to the bathroom, she yells, "God I hope your not planning to deliver on my Birthday". Honestly, I didn't have the energy to reply.

As luck would have it, I go home, go to bed and once again get up to use the bathroom. When I look in the bowl, I see what I believe to be my mucus plug, just floating about....
At that moment my friend Kate comes home (she's staying with us while looking for an apartment), I walk into her room and I sit on a chair and say "I feel funny". Being a good and caring friend, she makes a big fuss in making me comfortable, well as comfortable as a beached whale can get. After a few minutes I think I am OK so I get up and the flood gates open. Really the amount of water that comes out is just shocking.

At the hospital, because of my sinus infection it does not go too well. I can't breath and so my breathing and pushing is not up to par. The doctor comes and goes and comes and goes. The nurses change shifts and I am still there waiting. I spend all of Sunday along with my friend Patti, who is also my coach, in the hospital. At some point in a state of despair I tell Patti that she must go "down there" and check if she see's this baby. Poor Patti! Forty-eight long, long hours later on Monday, October 5th, at 4:08 pm, after pushing for 5 hours, I deliver Jonathan by C-Section into our world.

Alone in my room with Jonathan in my arms, I wonder how I ever lived without him. My heart is so filled with love for this tiny baby and I pray to God that I will be just the right mom for him. Feeling a love so powerful that it still gives me a lump in my throat. When the nurse comes in to check on me I am crying and she says to me, "what's wrong" and I say, "you don't understand, everything is finally just right".

Happy 15th Birthday my Jon.......

2007-09-22T16:03:00.000-07:00

Pictures ......of myself, my life and those I love.....

For quite awhile now I've been trying to figure out how to post a photo of myself on my site, well its not happened. Something about a URL...blah, blah, blah. I don't get it, why can't I just post from my documents. As much as I think I am computer savvy, so much does escape me.

So here are some of my favorites...............

This was fun -- hope you all enjoy!!! I still don't know how to url my photos...if anyone has a simple, stress free way of telling me how to do it, I would appreciate it. Hope all my blogger friends are doing well....Ciao

2007-09-18T17:25:00.000-07:00

Immigrant, or just a human being who loves America...

Two weeks ago my brother and I went to the Bronx to take our mother 91, to church. My brother, from Brooklyn, and I from Long Island, meet at our moms apartment and we all walk to church together. St. Athanasius is the parish of my childhood and my mother has been going there for over 40 years. The walk to church is only about 12 minutes but with my mother's slow, gliding pace it takes us about 30 minutes. Along the way, we make several stops to meet and greet other church goers. It is apparent to me that my sweet, and beautiful mother is well known, loved and respected in this neighborhood where so little is to be had. The community, since our arrival in the mid 1960's has undoubtedly changed. Where there once was a small population of Jews, Italians and African Americans, there are now mostly people from Central and South America.

On our Arrival to the church we are greeted by Father Smith who happily and lovingly greets my mom and asks her if she has found a plaque in the shape of a leaf on the churches tree of life which is helping to make some much need repairs to our old church (it celebrated its 100th year in 2007). To my surprise my mother has donated a generous amount in memory of my sister Lily to help her church, as have many of the other members. As I look around, I can't help but smile at the joy on their faces as they so proudly search for their plagues and I am so deeply struck when I think that these are my people, my community who is so rich in their love for their church, God and their community.

St. Athanasius, is an old church that over the many years has had few repairs. It is simply decorated, with few and simply details. There is no air conditioning and on hot day as on that day the whir of the fans send a whisper of sweet and intoxicating comfort. During the homily, which I have to say the Colombian priest, does beautifully, the service is centered on real life in the community. He talks to his congregation as if they are truly his family, mentioning names, telling a joke, sharing stories about dinner at so and so's house.

At times, I would look around and remember moments of my childhood, like when I was 8 and I wore a tube top (small shirt) to church and the old lady behind me pulled my ear and told me that I should never come to church in such attire, or when Father caught me chewing gum and told me that the good Lord was probably turning in his grave, or as we got older and my sister and I would stay out dancing all night and when we got home my mother would tell us not to even think of going to bed because we were going straight to church. This was the place where I grew up.

Towards the end of Mass I looked around and all I saw was happy, smiling faces, young, old, babies, many of them immigrants who don't have citizenship and worry every day that they may be sent back to their countries. These people who have gathered in this community and are so committed to each other. These people who struggle with poverty, cannot get medical insurance or help from our government because the are illegal. All they want is the same thing that the rest of us desire, to work, feed their families and live in a safe place where their children may one day have a chance for a better life than the one they know. These, the indigenous people of Peru, Guatemala, Ecuador, Panama, Mexico and many others stood before me with love in their eyes as the sang "God Bless America" as their closing hymn.

Standing outside my old church on this lovely sunny day, with my 90 year old mother, never believing when I was 8 that she would still be standing in front of this beautiful old church holding my hand as if I were still 8, I felt a rush of love, happiness and gratitude for Father Gigante (then the Pastor) who greeted us and welcomed us to a community that would always continue to embrace us and always welcome me home. Our family came here seeking a better and new life, just like those standing around me. Many decades later we know how very lucky we have been.

2007-09-07T19:05:00.000-07:00

The first day of school brings back moments in which I feel as if I am eight years old again . As I drive Jonathan to school on this first day, it is warm and the prospect of another year has us both driving quietly, wishing for just another week of summer vacation. I am grateful to have this time with Jon in the car as we both watch children getting on buses and some walking to school, some with backpacks and others with just their thoughts. I know it won't be long before he goes of to college and this morning ritual will be just a sweet memory for me.

This is not just Jon's first day of his sophomore year in High School, it is also my first day of school. At 45, I still spend hours the day before school getting ready, cooking, planning for the week as if by some weird coincidence there will be no hours left in the day. It amuses me some, how I go about this routine of food shopping, getting clothes ready, planning meals as if there will not be time left in the coming year. The first day of school is still a big event in my life, for I too go back to my school, my students and a whole new year filled with some problems but also hope, promise and new beginnings.
After dropping Jon off I am greeted on my way out of the lot, by an array of trees covered in toilet paper, floating in a stream. In some ways I should be upset by the waste and mess, but as the sun is slowly coming up and peeking through the trees and all the kids are walking about this cloud of streamers, there is some sort of beauty around this moment. In my car, it is quiet and I am allowed to drive by this parade feeling and drinking in the beauty of the first day of school.

I walked into my school with my smiley stickers in my hand and instead of feeling bad that summer had concluded, I put on a smile and embraced the moment I had waited for, with anticipation, and I greeted my first day of school.

2007-08-13T09:31:00.000-07:00

Besieged....but why??

I awoke this morning, to find myself in an utter state of overwhelmingness. Feeling as though I've gotten on the wrong train. I am not sure if it is the upcoming 45th year of my life, in which I am questioning direction, purpose and answers for myself. Or if its just my hormones gone wild. Often I am optimistic and balanced, this morning I am neither. It is not that I am not grateful for each moment that I have. Every day I typically wake up filled with joy at the possibilities for"potential" - potential for moments that take my breath away, potential of seeing a friend, potential of doing something good and meaningful. Today it was as if someone unplugged me, leaving me in a state, to which I can only wrinkle my nose as if smelling something foul.

I believe in my heart that this is not all bad.....for I am being forced to sit with myself and examine my inner happenings. Though, in a state duress, I know that anytime I have felt this way in the past, its because I have veered, veered from meditation, praying, and my own self. It has happened before, I get too comfortable and I stop doing the work, my daily work of the self. Because of this state, I am frazzled and now it appears that my neighbor has gotten a new toy, a motorcycle, which he has, to his delight and to the fraying of my nerves been reving up for almost 45 minutes now. Such noises to me seem a disrespect to humanity and the environment. They are not peaceful making sounds in any way.

"Oh God, thank you, he just stopped playing with his toy. Please don't let him find some other noise maker that will break the soft sounds of the birds playfulness." Yesterday he was trying to fix some screeching device like a saw for what seemed like hours until I believe one of the other neighbors complained. I am telling you it could have woken the dead.

I will be redirecting myself into some place of awareness today. Taking the time to meditate and bring balance back to myself and in doing so, bringing balance around me. When I look about me, I see the specialness of the world around me and it deeply saddens me to see the damage done. I often feel that there is something that I am suppose to be doing. I hope that in trying to find my own center and balance that I can promote it outward so that it can touch and renew, for I love life and the gift of living.

Off I go to count my blessings and then once again quiet my mind......

2007-07-30T08:50:00.000-07:00

Its been awhile???

For those of you wondering where I've been.....update -- Note the post below. I went to Indiana (new post below). But that was weeks ago, so here it is. My computer is down...not just down but after being away for two weeks (in which it was quite fine). I come home turn it on and note that something fishy is happening...I cannot get to a web browser - none. So after spending 2 1/2 hours with Verizon on the phone desparately trying to find some solution, there was none. We checked all the wires, the router, the basement for some possible explanation - none. The gentlemen at Verizon explained quite calmly that we've tried everything and I need to have a "tech guy" come over and further check out the problem. I, not feeling so calm, and I will admit having some withdrawal issues with my blog and bloggers - proceed to freak out.

After my small melt down I now have a future appointment with the "tech guy" for August 9th between 8 and 12 noon (yeah right). Later that evening as I am at the doctors office for my annual mammogram - I get a call, yes, as the machine is slowly coming down upon my breast - I see that its Verizon. I told the nice girl that I really needed to pick up and she sweetly rolled her eyes. And so, naked from the waist up and my breast sitting like a slab of meat (chicken cutlet), I answer my phone to find that it is Steve from Verizon wanting to know if I had a moment to do some more trouble shooting with the computer. I kindly declined giving him full details of my predicament to which he replied, " oh, uh, oh uhmm ok uhm well, uh maybe I should call later, uh uhm oh, sorry uh....thank you. Click". I think I will just wait till the "tech guy" comes over.

2007-07-19T07:47:00.002-07:00

The mover, shaker and the Pyramid maker......

A road trip to the mid-west with Allen and Jon for Allen's family reunion....what to expect? For me, honestly, I thought it could only mean a quirky and interesting introduction to my husbands family who I had not yet met, even though we are going on two years of marriage. For Allen, perhaps some anxiety mixed in with joy at seeing his family for the first time in a long time, especially his mother who he loves and as he stated "you never know what you are going to get". For Jon, a very long car ride with his (annoying) parents and an ever so boring view (lots of green cornfields) and more boring moments to come.

What we really got was, well, so much more. Driving to Indiana from Pennsylvania entails lots of green, mountains of green, then flat greens. The 10 hour drive would end at the home of my sister-in-law Lauren and her partner Lynn. They being the mover, shaker and the pyramid maker (will explain later). We knew that we'd arrived when we noted the political stickers at the front gate. The long driveway was segway to a colorful and lush garden, huge barking dogs, and the most beautiful Arabian horses one could hope to see after a long drive. Outside, my eyes were drawn to the white haired woman carrying a bucket, pants scrunched up to the knees, this being my mother-in-law, Kathleen Kester, who had just finished planting some fruit trees. Lauren and Lynn soon follow with embraces that immediately made me feel at home.

Inside, we were greeted by the tiniest Yorkie named, Nettie, who is quite the hostess and according to all very sick. Nettie in all her spunk does not know quite how sick she is having severe COPD. Nettie soon settles into a week long of hugs, kisses and lots of love from Jon and I. So here I am in a family that so loves animals and I marry the only one who would rather eat them. Oh did I also mention Kathleen brought along with her, from her home in New Mexico, her beloved Maltese's Marcie and Cherry. Yes, it was my husbands worse nightmare, a house filled with dogs and worse than that a bunch of women who love these animals more than anything. His other sister Janine has 20 dogs, all whose names start with the letter "S". She can recite their names quite easily too. I think Janine felt it was best for Allen not to even know.

Lauren and Lynn kindly set up a tent on their property and this worked out very nicely, except on the night in which the horses were passing the tent in the middle of the night and I thought it was some insane animal, like a bear, or worse a hyena (do those even live in Indiana?).

During this visit there was a lot of reminiscing about their childhood, and Kathleen's life. Kathleen moved to New Mexico and started a whole new life after her divorce from Allen's dad. My husband has often spoken of his mom as an artist but truly I cannot even begin to describe what a gifted woman she is. She is an artist in all mediums, specializing in carvings, be it wood, stone, turquoise, bronze, she does it all. I believe Kathleen was a prodigy who never went to art school or when she attempted her husband said absolutely not. She was born with a gift, one that few people have naturally. After several days with my new family I felt sad that I could not spend more time with my mother-in-law. I wish that I could just talk to her about her work for days, trying to capture, just for a bit, her genius.

Lauren and Lynn, well they are just the most humble, kind and warm women and to say that I just love them is really so lame but sometimes that is the only way to say it. Lauren is a fighter (in a good way), she is a survivor and a lover. Lynn is quiet, sweet, and someone that you just know you can count on. Together they are perfect. So the reason they are the mover, the shaker and the pyramid maker is that when I asked where they slept, Lauren tells me they sleep in separate rooms because she moves a lot and gets up often because of her restless legs. Lynn just lays down on her side, face up, in a quiet and gentle posture, with her hands together making a pyramid with her fingers, peaceful as can be.

Two days after our arrival we all go to the family farm where there are numbers of cars, trailers and tents camping out for the "big" family reunion. It was a sweltering hot day but all 175 members showed up. I had never seen anything like it. I don't even think I know that many people. There was to be a family photo, yes with all 4 generations and 175 people. We all lined up in front of the old porch, babies, teens, adults and the elderly, patiently waiting for all the cameras to do their job. It was a lovely day with many lovely people.

Our trip, was a rich one. I got to see all the homes my husband lived in from the time of his birth. I got to view his family history through Lauren's labor of love - a scrapbook going back to her great grand-parents. This was a two book scrapbook honoring their mother's life. The best part was understanding my husband, who he is, where he came from and how he got to be where he is. My new family is quirky, funny, smart as heck and truly just another great addition to the family I already have.

Kathleen left the day before us to go back home to New Mexico. As we said our farewells, my heart went completely a flutter when to my great pleasure, Kathleen said six little words that made me so happy, "I think you are just swell" -- Yay I had my mother-in-laws stamp of approval. As for the others, I think we are all blessed.

Thanks Lauren, thanks Lynn...........till next time.

2007-06-24T14:18:00.001-07:00

Being in the here and now.....

A dear friend and I spoke today about last nights lovely dinner, where we met up with two other friends, in Long Beach, New York. It was a stunning evening with a beautiful sunset (pictured above). After dinner we walked to the boardwalk and shared some reflective time together. My friend is befuddled by my consistent ability to stay centered on the here and now and not be easily seduced by thoughts of the past or a future that is unpredictable. It has not always been this way for me, for I was a compulsive thinker and pervasively distracted by thoughts that only caused me high anxiety. It is not a journey that is easily explained, the only way to speak of it, is to say that it has been a long and trying journey, one that was often conflicting and painful but also a self-reflective and eye opening one. When the mind is constantly talking, you are an active participant and that can be very exhausting. I have chosen to be an observer. My mind is no longer in control.

I told my friend that it has taken me a long time to surrender to that which I cannot control (which is most things). I live each day within that day, trying not to let my mind talk me into entering fear based projections. It is not an easy task and takes a lot of practice to redirect ones self into the present, but it does get easier. I do have future goals but they are on shelf until they need to be dealt with. I look at each day with a joyful embracing outlook because "it is what it is" and that is perfectly fine. I don't feel the need to control what is untangeable in any way. My husband lives in Pennsylvania, I am on Long Island where I need to be at this time. I see this as a time where it just has to be this way.

I know that there are things that must be done at this time and that is where I am at. To be in a constant state of wanting only leads to more wanting and wishing. Learning to surrender, and not needing to control the unforseeable allows for greater and deeper peace. It is this that I keep as my daily focus. Sometimes successfully, sometimes not......but "it is what it is".

2007-06-14T17:09:00.001-07:00

Looking out the window, the sky seemed so vast and beautiful. There are times when the beauty is so grand that I lose myself in all its splendor. I was home, in Pennsylvania, for the weekend and the sky which had been threatening all day to shout out loud, finally got its way. The view from my upstairs window which faces the mountains was brilliant in color. To my delight I was privy to the show in the sky.

The sky lighting up all around me, casting light where there were shadows. Colors of blue, purple, lavender and red brightened the dark country night. In my underwear and t-shirt I ran outside to watch this spectacular show of lights. Feeling so close to the earth, nature and God and grateful that I, so small in this world was lucky enough to be showered with such a sight. No rain in sight, just a dance of lights in the pitch dark sky. How lucky am I. With my husband standing, holding me close, we watched in silence and gratitude for such a sight.

It is so easy to forget to stop, look and listen when things are so busy all the time. But at this moment, I was captivated in total delight. Standing with a great big smile, I felt like a child watching life happen for the very first time.

2007-06-01T20:51:00.000-07:00

What a woman needs.........is another woman

Several months ago upon speaking with my dear friend Mary Ann, I realized with great satisfaction, how much I enjoy her company and wisdom. Women just provide something for each other that a man cannot provide. What is this?......I think to myself, well its loyalty, honesty and plain old fashion realism. I decide that a womens group would be ideal for myself and some close women friends, all of us in the 40 and up category. Tonight we meet at Mary Ann's house, (her husband just left for a bicycle tour for the weekend). The group consists of Myself, Mary Ann, Lisa (of the sweet 16), Lisa (of the "a comforter is not a bedspread), and Chris who is Mary Ann's neighbor (who's husband left her, claiming he wants to have fun - huh!). These women are spirited, kind, funny, smart, spiritual and strong.

We are all forty something and then some. Our meetings consists of wine, food, laughter, honesty, sharing and advise after good listening. Most of our meetings are supportive and constructive. We discuss life, our children, work, and very often the men in and out of our lives. It is not a vengeful discussion but one that faces our mistakes, the good times and how we can improve our lives. Each of us has a story to share, providing some honest wisdom to the others. It is a group where we can be ourselves and not be afraid of being rejected. We respect each other and look to each other for solace when we need. It is a place where we all feel safe and loved without conditions.

In one of our sessions I posed a question, "what advice would you give to a younger women"? Following are some of the things we believe in:

1. Educate yourself.

2. Have your own savings account even if married.

3. Love your body now for in 10 years it will change, drastically.

4. Be true to yourself.

5. Surrender to what you cannot control, it will be less painful.

6. Don't give up your dreams, ever...

7. Love, respect and honor yourself first.

8. Believe..........always

9. Always do your best...

10. Don't take anything personally, its usually other peoples stuff.

11. Say what you mean and stick with it.

12. Falling in love is a wonderful journey when you no longer need it to be complete.

I can probably go on with the list, but you get the gist of it. We all agree that marriage and relationships are wonderful, when there is mutual respect, honor, humor and kindness. We all understand that we are on a journey and we are explorers in a world of immense vastness and possibilities. So here is to our journey and being enlightened.......salute!!

2007-05-30T18:15:00.000-07:00

The Daughter I never had.....

The year was 1982 and I was 20 years old and my sister Carmen was 30. We were sitting at the pizza shop having a slice with extra cheese when she tells me that she is pregnant (and unwed) and she was wanting advice from me (yeah right) on how to break the news to our very Catholic, strict and at times puritan mother. I am not sure that I was able to provide much insight or good advice while choking on my extra cheese pizza but my mother did handle it well. Hence the birth of my beautiful niece Veronica, there should be not misunderstanding for any family that may read this, that all our nephews and nieces are very loved and beautiful, but Veronica practically lived with us from the time of her unexpected yet delightful birth.

My sister being a single parent and let's just say inexperience in any form of responsibility required much help. I being the "all about me" 20 year old thought its her baby, she'll handle it. Problem occurred when my sister came home from the hospital and with her she brought this little pink doll of a child with black curls that made you think of the softest black fur. This baby, so small, and smelling like warm honey on a summer day stole my heart forever. I fell in love and there was no turning back.

My mother became Veronica's permanent baby sister/grandma. I became her watcher, protector and teacher of sorts. Veronica grew and amazed us with her every accomplishment. We were her captive and loving audience. When my sister worked on the weekends I would take over for my mom. She brought joy in ways that I cannot explain but in the way that only small children do with their joy, laughter, and simple curiosity and innocence.

In 1987, I got married and moved to Long Island, Veronica would spend summers and most school breaks with me. The move was very difficult for the two of us. At one point I selfishly asked my sister if I could keep her during the week (so that I was ensured that she would go to a good school) and I would take her back on the weekends. My sister was terribly insulted with this and in retrospect I understand. I worried constantly about my niece and wanted to provide her with the things that my sister could not. My sister understood that it was all out of love and allowed me to do so. I took my niece to her first symphony, her first play and first night club. She had her first glass of wine with me and came to me with her many questions about love.

Veronica is 24 now and has had many challenges in her life but she is enormously loved, she's in College (for Speech Pathology), and she's in love. She is a sensible, smart, kind, beautiful girl with a laugh that makes you want to embrace her for making you smile. A year ago Veronica started dating Nick, a lovely and sweet young man. Similar to a mother, I miss my girl for she visits a lot less, and calls less. I know she is so busy with School, friends and Nick and it warms my heart with joy to know that she is happy and her life is full of wonderful happenings.

On Memorial Day Veronica calls me to tell me that Nick proposed while she was visiting him in North Carolina (he's joined the Army - and how I worry). She said "yes" of course. She was afraid to call me with the news for fear of disappointing me. How could this child disappoint me when all she has done is brighten my life. I did beg her to finish school first and she agreed whole heartedly. I gave her my blessings.

In 1983 I would receive a gift that I opened one day later in life, when I realized I would not be having any more children after my loving son. I realized that my niece would always be the daughter I never had. God has a way of providing us with what we need even when we don't know it.

2007-05-14T18:32:00.000-07:00

"A Moment of discontent"

I lay in bed listening to sweet music as the birds realize that the feeder has once again been filled. It is Sunday, Mother's Day at 6:45 am, and I am relishing the thought of lingering under my sheets, planting some flowers and even perhaps stealing a kiss from son. I always tell Jon that he should not worry about gifts and that a card would be lovely. My favorite being the homemade kind that carry a syrupy message and an awkward picture. I have to admit I am a card/letter junky. I have an addiction since he was little for little messages that say "I think of you". Allen does not quite understand my "thing" with cards or why they can make or break a day.

I am not sure which events made me a little weary of the day ahead, the pains in my back that kept me up most of the night, Jonathan breaking his pinky and needing a cast the day we were suppose to leave and meet Allen in PA (he's been there a week now trying to sort things out) or just this overall feeling that things were strained with Allen.

So here I am laying in bed trying to just concentrate on the world outside my window when from the other room I hear a bellowing, "MA!!", "There is banging and like glass breaking coming from the closet", I roll my eyes knowing exactly what it is. I turn to Allen, "oh no not today," apparently squirrels have no regard for Mothers Day. Jon comes running to our room looking wide eyed and flipped out. "What the heck is that, you need to go check". Allen rolls over and says, "wow I am really surprised that he came today, its been a while".

A couple of days ago after investigating our squirrel problem and figuring out the best way to deal with the problem, Allen set up a rat trap. I was OK with this only I didn't want to be there when it happened. You see the squirrel lives in our attic and comes into the house when we've vacated through a hole in the closet in Jon's bedroom. I never thought it would really enter the inner part of our home, especially while we are there. For the most part the squirrel has not damaged anything (that we can see) it just kind of comes in and leaves it nuts about the house.

"Please go check," I ask Allen dreading the reality of it. Allen goes to check and says, "yep, its the squirrel, I am surprised that he's not dead," we'll give it a few minutes". I tell Jon to go to the other room and try to go back to sleep. He shakes his head and walks to the other room, coming back a few minutes later to tell us that he can still hear it thrashing about. I turn to Allen, "you have to do something", I start to cry, "I can't stand knowing that its alive and suffering". Allen gets up and goes to take care of it. I hear him go about and when he comes back, I don't ask. I don't want to know.

And so this is how I start my morning on Mother's Day. I realize that my son has forgotten and I try to pretend its OK. I go about making coffee and hoping that he will soon remember and present me with my precious card. After a couple of hours I realize that its not going to happen and I want to cry. I don't want to display this at home so I tell them that I am going for a drive and from the computer and the TV I hear a united "see you later". I am devastated for I think that I ask for little from my son and husband alike. To not be acknowledged on Mother's Day made me feel forgotten and unappreciated. I drive about, then end up at Walmart (where else do forlorn mothers go?) where I waltz the isles aimlessly looking for purpose.

When I get home, I find a very embarrassed boy, who approaches me with a hug and a kiss and says sadly, "Happy Mothers Day Mom". My niece Veronica had called while I was out to wish me a Happy Mothers Day.....awakening my son to his small blunder. I love Jon more than anything, and I don't like to guilt him but that day I could not hide my disappointment. I miss the days of sloppy wet kisses, macaroni picture frames, painted portraits of me looking like a stick figure with funny hair. I called my mom for the third time that day in case she felt a little like I did, and also, selfishly, to feel the way one does when one speaks to the person who loves them the most in the world.

2007-05-06T17:02:00.000-07:00

An Addendum to my last post:

At 6:00 I called my son....there was no answer. I called his fathers home to be told that he had taken him to the movies to keep him from going to Anna's party. I cannot say that I held my ground and center, calling him a few choice words. Mostly, I asked "how could you do this to Jon, someone you are suppose to love and protect? He does not answer but only questions me "why are you going to a party with my family?" - I gathered myself in order to say to him, " The question you should be asking yourself is WHY YOU ARE NOT GOING TO YOUR FAMILIES PARTY?"
I hung up the phones shaken.
I realized I could not let him control my life, he could try as he might to work his destructive behaviors but it was up to me to keep them out of my life as best as possible. He may have some control over my son but he has no control on the way I handle myself and my ability to remain grounded. I went to the party where Anna was glowing and beautiful in all of her 16 years. Lisa was a wonderful host, she looked beautiful and all that she's done for Anna came vividly through. Though Jon was not there (there were a few times when someone would ask for him and my tears would well up), he was missed and there was something lost. Lisa, Anna, Jon and I will never be separated and throughout life our love and bond will grow stronger.... there will be other party's and moments to share.
On a light note, upon getting home at about 1:45 am, I realized that Allen forgot I left my key home. I knocked, rang the bell for several minutes hoping the dog would bark. Par for the course the dog (who barks at his own shadow) would not bark and wake Allen who was sleeping upstairs. I kept saying "Buster its me mommy, please bark" - but no way. I did not have my cell phone, so I ended up driving to the local 7/11 to use the pay phone and called Allen to wake up....thankfully he did and opened the door. I fell asleep quickly and somewhat peaceful to know that I was there for those I love, even my son though he doesn't know it...yet.

2007-05-05T12:02:00.000-07:00

" The world breaks everyone and afterwords....
many are strong at the broken places"

~E. Hemingway
A farewell to Arms

Today is my ex-husbands' granddaughters sweet 16. Anna's mother, Lisa, and I are best friends, more like sisters. We look alike, we think alike and were married to father and son. We are both divorced from the father and son. Over the years we have seen our friendship survive the break up of the family. We have watched our children grow and have remained loyal to each other in spite of the discourse of a very dysfunctional family. Through it all Lisa and I have stuck with each other through many hard times and tears but also through laughter. Lisa was there for me when I lost Dennis on September 11th, when my niece died shortly 5 months later and then 3 months later when my dear sister Lilly passed on. I have been there for Lisa through her first and second divorce, through the pain of lives difficulties, as a single mother and then recently when her father Frank passed away just this Christmas. Lisa calls me when she needs to vent and I call her. The latest phone call this morning almost as a last minute gentle touch before a very busy day and later Anna's party to which my son Jon and I will be going
(Allen is packing to go to PA).
About an hour ago my son called me very upset (it is his father's weekend and I was to pick him up at 6:00 to go to Anna's party). At this party Anna's father Michael will be with his wife, children and his two brothers and there families. My ex has not spoken or seen Michael, his son, in about 5 years over an argument with Michaels sister. The brothers do not speak to the sister (bear with me, I know it is tricky to follow - bizarre actually). Michael did ask Lisa not to invite me (not sure why - he and I were never on bad terms) to which she stated " What!! are you crazy". Recently he asked her to tell me that I was not to say hello to him, his family nor his brothers. Ok,so back to Jon's phone call. He calls to tell me that his father is not allowing him to go to Anna's party. The phone call was heart wrenching, here is my 14 year old put in a position that no one should be in. Jon and Anna are very close. I could tell that my son was frustrated, tearful and directing his anger at me. He told me that he hates this family and can't stand what his father and I do. My heart was breaking for him. I know that Jon understands that he can be angry with me because it is safe and I will always love and support him. He is terrified of his fathers meanness and would never dare contradict him. He would never defy his father but it is safe to defy me. This I understand.
I told Jon that I understood and I felt sad that he was in such a state. Jon began to direct all his anger and frustration at me. I told him that I could challenge his father, but this scares him. I told him that one day, even if its not today, he would have to stand up to him, but, that for now I would support his decision (not that he has any choice, trust me). I told him that I loved him, he was crying and said he doesn't know what to do. I told him it was OK but that he should understand that I thought it was a terrible thing that his father was doing to him and to Anna. He said his father told him "that your mother is ruining it for everyone by going". Meanwhile Anna and Lisa (whose paying for the party) invited me. Anna calls me Nani and I have been at every major event in her life. I told Jon that I loved him and that he did not do anything wrong, that whatever choice he made, I understood why he made it. I hung up and cried from frustration at not being able to help Jon and also in knowing that 7 years after our divorce, my ex could still hurt me, not directly but by hurting our child. I cannot even but into words what I think of him as a human being and how I wish sometimes he would disappear but the other me knows that this is a journey my son has to take and I cannot stop it. I understand that there are lessons that he will learn from his dad, as I did when I was married to him. He is not a healthy person and he lives enmeshed in his own venom, it is truly quite sad.
My son is a good, kind and smart boy. I know that regardless of who his father is, my presence in his life will be his true force of goodness, truth and well-being. My son will find his way, I cannot pave the road for him nor make it a smooth one, but when he loses his way, he will know that my hand will always be within reach to guide him home.
Life is hard but we do mend and sometimes, if we are lucky, we grow stronger.....

2007-04-30T04:43:00.000-07:00

"At a Crossroad.....but which way does one go?"

Just recently my husband Allen got a job as a finisher on a lark, apparently he was hired because the owner could not seem to get in touch with the guy he wanted (who had also interviewed for the job but then kind of disappeared), so he offered Allen the job under auspicious conditions. Upon working at this company, it was not clear what the situation was, he only knew that Steve (he never did learn his last name) hired him. There seemed to be other boss type people running around, asking things of him, but none would clarify for him who he was to report to. So as things move along Allen begins to feel that he is not really a part of this company and that though, he is the finisher, no one consults with him about decisions on his jobs.
Allen is a slow, considerate and precise worker. He is not one to jump on a job without thought as to how it is best to proceed. He is diligent, conscientious and thorough. He comes from a background where it is best to do a well thought out job than to mess it up and have to do it again. He grew up on a farm, so hard work is not alien to him and was a diary farmer for 15 years. Prior to coming to Long Island, he was praised for being the kind of worker he is. It has become apparent that this is not appreciated on Long Island where speed and production (regardless of quality) is what is appreciated. Allen is now unemployed and is torn between why it is he cannot fit in (this being his second job on LI). I naturally tend to examine what it is about human nature and society that makes these things as they are. We are at a crossroads, we have a house in Pennsylvania, so he can try to look for work there, except that the rate of pay would be on the poverty level on LI. Yet, we know that the cost of living is cheaper there. The other thing is that I would have to stay here on LI until my son is done with High School (another 3 years to go) and Allen and I would be apart except for some weekends and summers when I am off from my job at a school.
It is not as if this would be terribly difficult since we are both comfortable being alone. When we dated he lived 2 1/2 hours away. We did not see each other with great regularity. Prior to our relationship he'd been divorce for 12 years and I for about 6 years. I think my struggle, if thats what it can be called, is the uncertainty of it all. My husband is 55 and the truth be told, his days for starting a great new career are slim. Yes, many people start whole new careers in their later years but I see all the "stuff" my husband carries and trust me it is quite the heavy load. He grew up in a very controlling, narcisistic home where his father was verbally and physically abusive. His mother basically abandoned him emotionally at the age of 2, preferring infants to toddlers (she's told him so). Allen's sisters are really his only caring connection to his childhood and for this we are both grateful. He loves them and feels that he can count on them. Though he speaks with his mom occasionally (she often confuses our phone number for Microsoft and calls for help - no really this is true. When she calls and says "is this Microsoft", I gently say "no Kay, this is Allen's home - and no she does not suffer from dementia). He has no contact with his father who is still alive. His family life is one that brings on deep sadness, longing and often tears. He was broken at 10 years old and was never able to regain his self-esteem and faith in himself. My husband is also incredibly intelligent with an IQ in High School of about 145. His knowledge on almost any topic is amazing and yes, sometimes a little too much.
I am not sure what will happen but I do know that working on Long Island does not seem to be in his future. So I stand, looking ahead, knowing that soon, my husband will probably move to Pennsylvania without me (he's already applying for jobs). I try to remember that the universe is neither for me nor against me. That the truth is, if I stand back and I root myself firmly I will understand that I don't need control, that it is OK to let things be. Life is going to happen regardless of what I do, say or stand for. Believing this and turning it over to the powers that be, do bring me some peace. I know that each day I will open my eyes to all the possibilities that will come with every single change. I give thanks for our strong, kind, and loving relationship and I know that in the end, no matter the distance, we are together.......

2007-04-14T12:10:00.000-07:00

Its been awhile since my last post due to my travel with my son Jon to Italy. Two years ago I promised my son that we'd take a trip to the place where his paternal grand-parents migrated from. For years I have read books on Italy and watched many travel channel shows on this very rich in culture, art and history place. My husband stayed behind due to work and also expense, but he was happy that Jon and I would have this time together. I was hesitant to travel at this time because truly it is such a luxury and one that I certainly can't afford. But the bottom line is that there will always be a reason not to go and since Jon was little I tried to provide him not with things so much, but mostly memories that he can carry in his life. We don't have a lot of money but we are blessed with a very very rich life in ways that allow me to wake in the morning and smile.

Our trip to Italy began with a nine hour flight from New York to Rome. Upon arrival I realize that I will need Euro's. Trust me friends, do not purchase Euro's at the Airport in Italy. The exchange is not good and they charge you service fee's. Unless you know the language (and trust me I used my broken Italian quite often) you don't always know what you are getting into. At the Hotel we meet Our trusty, quirky and delightful guide Dominic John Harris, a Scottish fellow who lives in Italy during heavy tourism time and in Scotland the rest of the time. It is a hectic and busy job he has, organizing, rushing us in the morning, singing on the bus and overall keeping us entertained. Dominic and our trusty driver Fabio (yes, Fabio) spent 10 days driving, organizing, searching for missing tourists, and entertaining us (Dominic is has a record label and share with us one of his very catchy fine tunes "Searching"). By the end of our trip everyone knew the words and sang delightfully during our bus rides. We were very fortunate to travel with a very nice group of 4o adults and about 8 kids. We got up every morning at about 6:30 and it was go, go, go all day. It was not a vacation for the faint at heart. On the first day one of the girls stated that her pedometer said we walked about 12,000 steps. Trust me it was a working vacation and all I have to say is Thank God for all the Vino.
Honestly Italy was bigger, richer and more beautiful than I had ever imagined. We were in Rome, Venice, Florence, Sorrento, and the Coast of Amalfi. In 10 days we saw more history and art than I have seen in my life time. I had deep moments of not wanting to return to the US. Italy is wonderfully passionate, with people who are so expressive and alive. They truly get it. They work and then close from 1-4 in some areas for their siesta and then life picks up again. I think most human beings would benefit from such a break in the day. My favorite city was Florence, I am deeply affected by the peacefulness of the countryside with all its beautiful color, mountains and wild pastures.

Jon, who is 14, had a wonderful time meeting new friends, learning about his heritage and our time together (which, as he's grown older is sporadic) was a gift to us, as we talked late into the night about our day and shared our favorite moments. For all who yearn to travel and like me often have a million reasons not to. Please do yourself and your loved ones a favor and do try. It is what we take with us and the memories we leave for others. Life is so very short and there are just so many aha moments and things that take your breath away like the Sistine Chapel, Pisa, St. Marks Square. For me this trip was an Aha moment often, the world has so much beauty and we really miss so much of if being busy making a living. I cannot tell you what my favorite moment was because everyday was a treasure that left me in awe. To explain what I saw and describe Michael Angelo's work or the enormity of the Trevi fountain would have zero impact until you see it.

2007-03-19T18:02:00.000-07:00

The Gracefulness of just being....I saw her again at the gym, in her shiny kelly green leotard and her shiny beige tights.
She looks great, she must be at least 75 years old and I stare at her often, she catches me staring and I smile at her, she smiles back. I don't imagine she knows why I stare but it is purely in deep admiration of her. She, the small framed woman who is, and probably has always been true to herself. The rest of us on our treadmills, in our 30's, 40's, 50's trying desparately to hide beneath the layers of over size clothing -- perhaps even our husbands over sized shirts to hide our shame or embarrassment of a small bundle of fat. I call my leotard lady Lucille....she just looks like one, tiny red curls cling to her head, over-sized glasses and red lipstick. She stands out in the room as a kind reminder that life is good and you just have to grab it and go with it. I long to tell her that I hope that someday I too will find the courage to wear a shiny leotard and embrace the gift of life in all of its forms. Lucille has, without knowing, become a sign of the future for me. A sign of hopefulness, longevity, letting go and embracing it all, as it comes.
Watching her always brings a gentle smile across my face, even when its been a hard day. She reminds me of the truth. The truth, that we are what we believe, that we can bring upon ourselves unconditional happiness in small ways, that letting go of our pre-conditioned behaviors can be very good for the soul.
When my son was little, I use to always say to him "be true to yourself and you will always find your way home". I live by this most of the time and there are times when I need gentle reminders to take me back to my purposefulness. This has been a very trying week professionally and I needed desparately to step back and reach deep inside to find peace and forgiveness in my soul. I remind myself of what my truth is and that is, to be generous with my heart, intentions and to forgive myself and others. This does not mean allowing others to walk all over me and abuse me but if I can model my truth to others, healing might happen all around. I make a vow to give with my heart, spirit and soul and to continually count my blessings big and small. For truly, as I see it all around me, the world and everything in it, is a gift of immense proportions.
Blessings to Lucille and all of those who on a daily basis work on bringing hope and inspirations to others.

2007-03-14T15:20:00.000-07:00

"I want to Marry a lighthouse Keeper", or so the song goes.........and here is my second happiest day.....
In the fall of 2003, my son turned 11 years old. As many 11 year olds wished, he wanted another Laser Tag party. I, having had enough of such events, not to mention the ridiculous cost for a party that last an hour and a half while also leaving you with a lasting headache........decided that my child needed some outdoors, no electronics, kinda birthday. I decided to book a weekend in a lighthouse, which made its restoration money from also being a bed&breakfast. I had heard about my fated lighthouse from my friend Lisa (who at one very disturbing time in our lives was also my daughter-in-law) - she was married to my ex-husbands eldest son. Lisa and I are the same age, married to father and son, divorced from said father and son. Oh well, really interesting stuff but for another time. Lisa and I are great friends and each year we try to keep the connection with our kids by going away for a weekend together. My son is her daughters uncle (yeah). Lisa and I had planned to take the kids to this lighthouse but at the last minute Anna, her daughter could not fathom doing this.

I decided to go along with my plans and take Jon and his friend Julia who was also turning 11. They were not allowed to bring any electronics and were encouraged to bring binoculars, sketching pads and pencils ..oh, and of course books. I brought along my book, a wine glass, and a bottle of good wine. I had spoken at length with the Lighthouse keeper re: our trip and what not to bring. He told me there was no TV and I should absolutely not bring a hair dryer (their power source being very limited) and if I planned to go out at night I should bring a flashlight. I was told to park in the lot and that I would be walking about 1/2 a mile through a nature trail to the lighthouse. As we started our trek through, truly, one of the most beautiful paths, I have ever seen, I couldn't help but notice the delight in the kids after complaining all the way there on our three hour drive from Long Island to Upstate. They explored and laughed running through the path as young children do on a wonderful adventure. The lighthouse is lovingly surrounded by the Hudson River and the Esopus Creek. The natural beauty of its surroundings really takes your breath away.

When I walked in I was greeted by a woman who was a volunteer of the lighthouse, giving tours and a bit of history. I told her I was a guest and asked if the keeper was around......just as Allen, walked in the room. Just like I knew it would happen, I looked at him, he looked at me and we knew that we'd finally found one another. after a lovely weekend, it was time for me to leave. It was Labor Day and a Monday, the lighthouse keepers day off and instead of leaving at the regular checkout time, we sat around admiring all of God's incredible gifts.

Allen and I dated from that day on......let me tell you what a great deal I got dating him.....Nothing has ever come close to being as romantic or as peaceful as staying at the lighthouse. I was so fortunate to stay in all seasons and really experience all of its beauty, from fog in the early morning, thunderstorms that would take your breath away later rewarding us with a rainbow and to snow drifts so tall that it was like climbing small hills. The peacefulness of the winters and the surprise to my waking eyes of deer swimming across the river. Never had I seen such raw beauty.
In July of 2005 Allen and I were so blessed to get married at the Lighthouse, amongst our wonderful friends, family and our children. It was a perfect summer day, no wind, no rain, no humidity and the most beautiful setting I could've dreamed of. Allen and I had prepared most of the food, friends set up, and the next lighthouse keeper cooked. Everyone had a part in it. It was the kind of wedding I had dreamed about but could never imagine having. To have found my soul mate, friend and to love again while including the most important people in my life -- I simply could not have asked for more.

2007-03-08T04:42:00.000-08:00

Last night, I pushed myself to go to a yoga class. I know that it will benefit me in many ways but the class starts at 8:30 and ends at 9:30 which by my standards a little late for a weeknight. I decided I had to go after my 14 year old started lovingly wrestling me because he had nothing else to do. I say, "how about reading, studying, drawing," nope, not for him. He's been punished, and I hate to use that word, I'd rather look at it as giving him time to reflect on making better choices, for slacking off on school assignments. He is not allowed to watch TV or play video games during the week at all. So being 14 and trying to torture me by poking, tickling, and invading with great zest my personal space, I decide I need to get away from this torment of the evening. Let me say that I do love this attention which would not come if he had TV and Video games but my body is not what it use to be and his vigor at wrestling me is exhausting. He did try to wrestle with the dog but after a while, poor Buster, could not keep up and went to hide.
Off I went to yoga at 8:30, when all I really wanted was to curl up in comfy, warm (and perhaps not so attractive) clothing. I perk up at bit as I get there (its 15 minutes away) and decide to make the best of it since earlier in the day my body was not behaving, causing Siatic pain on the right side. I limped around most of the day to my embarrassment. The yoga instructer is an older gentlemen, maybe in his 60's. He is quite agile, making me feel even worse because truly I am not flexible at all. Most positions are challenging for me especially anything that requires standing on one foot. Those positions that require laying down are body friendly to me and my favorites. I wonder if anything like that exist, that is not happening in a senior center? The setting for my yoga class is not optimal, there is a lot of banging around from the weights being lifted and I swear, thrown (it is in a gym), The soothing, meditative music often gets drowned out by the heavy rock music pouring through live a sieve from the gym. The room was rather chilly, and laying my achy bones on the floor was just not a feel good moment. Even the instructer commented on the chill. As it ends and I have completed my last sun salutation, bearing cold feet, hands and nose, I feel rather relaxed and loving. I am ready to go home to my husband and son and feel a great feeling of love and gratitude for them. All is good.
Upon getting home, I notice its dark. Iam disappointment at not being able to spread this love; everyone is sound asleep. I go into into my son's room and his energy and lack of TV has put him to sleep. I kiss his head and smile. In the next room, my husband is gently snoring (not really) and I kiss his head. When I crawl into bed I thank God for my blessings and feel deep comfort that everything is as it should be and for a moment I feel great peace.One of the great pleasures of my son's loss of TV and video games is the quality time we are spending together talking, playing chess and just being a family.

2007-03-06T19:02:00.000-08:00

Just before the Second Happiest day...

There were some pretty significant events that occurred prior to my second happiest day. They are important, in that they lead me in a very different direction than what I thought, on the day when I moved out of the home I shared with my first husband. When we got divorced I had no job and had just finished getting my Masters in Clinical Social Work. I purchased a small home not too far from him and my son's elementary school so that Jon would feel some sense of stability and safety. This happened in the summer of 2000. The year that followed would knock me off my feet and nothing was ever the same. A little background is required.

It is 1980, I was still living in the Bronx, was in my first year of college, and I was 17. I had gone with friends to the beach in the late afternoon after all the crowds were gone. I had a good book (so I thought), I can still remember the title (A distant Shore - not a classic) because it was in the inside cover of that book that he wrote his phone number. It was an overcast day and smelled overly of low-tide. I was laying on a blanket reading my book, when laughter from across made me look up. There were about 6 guys talking and laughing across the way, my eyes connected with one and I just knew that there was a connection of some sort (could it be that he was gorgeous, uhmmm). He later came over and introduced himself and we talked for a bit. He gave me his number. His name was Dennis. Someone I would have a relationship with for over 20 years, first as lovers later as friends who loved each other. Dennis and I dated for a long time. I was madly in love. Five years into our relationship I still got butterflies. He was 10 years older and not so committed. He dated others but we'd still be together. We had an understanding that he was not the "committing type' but I felt loved and he was my best friend. Even years later, I knew I could call him anytime, any day, at any hour and I knew I could count on him. When we broke up for good, I met my first husband and married very quickly. He called, I went and he begged me not to do it. He thought I was too young and my husband to be, too old. My husband represented stability, he wanted only me, he was settled and wanted a wife. Dennis and I remained friends over the years; meeting for lunch once a year but speaking on the phone more often. We heard about each other lives, successes, children etc. He had a daughter from a relationship and later I had my son. We often joked that we'd meet at 70 and get together once and for all. We spoke freely of our love for each other, understanding that we'd made different choices. We laughed about the possibilities of any future union, with some sadness in the air. After my divorce and my move, Dennis and I spoke frequently about getting together for dinner and catching up. At this time he was living with someone. We laughed about our poor timing, I was divorced and he had finally settled into a serious relationship. In late August of 2001, he called to wish me a happy birthday. It was late at night, around midnight, and we spoke for a long time looking back on the years and how quickly they went by. We talked about our lives, expressing pride in each others accomplishments. I told him how very much I loved him, and how very proud I was of the man he was. He was a firemen for over 25 years and was immensely respected by all who knew him. I put myself through school while getting divorced. We had lived many moments together and all who knew us understood our great love. I remember one of my mother's friends telling me before I got married that she knew that Dennis was the love of my life and though I could love another, nothing and no one would ever change those dynamics. She was right.

On September 11th, 2001, Dennis died in the World Trade Center. A week before our dinner date. I cannot speak of this time because, the truth is, that it brings on raw pain. Five months later my niece died and three months after that my sister Lily died. I was in shock and had little time to recover from any of it. I was grateful for the last phone call and even the thought of a missed date. I felt blessed for the moments with my niece and many days spent with my sister during her illness. It was my year for growing up and realizing how very precious life is.

2007-03-03T19:14:00.000-08:00

"In the depth of winter, I finally realized that within me
there lay an invincible summer"
~Albert Camus

A long time ago a dear friend gave me this quote as a reminder that there are always better days ahead. My first marriage was to a much older man who I cared about deeply, I would even go as far to say that I truly loved him. I was 24 and he was 48. He was a widower with 4 older children when we married. I was young and idealistic, thinking that I was going to make up for some of the pain of losing a wife and mother. I really had no clue. We endured 13 difficult and sad years, but the one thing my ex-husband and I still share is the love we have for my son Jonathan, if nothing else. I will always be grateful to him for the gift of my son.

Nothing in my life prepared me for what I would feel during my pregnancy and the birth of my son. It is quite possible that I bonded closer to my child during my pregnancy because I was so lonely. My husband was very hesitant to our having a baby, I thought it would be what would bring us together. I was wrong about that, but I was right in the fact that my son was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. During my pregnancy my husband drifted further away, and I grew closer to my unborn child. It was truly incredible how lonely I was, yet, I was the happiest I had ever known possible. My husband did not touch me, he never reached out to feel for the wonderful movement within me. I would say, " oh my God, feel this, he's moving," he declined and I stopped asking. I grew bigger and he withdrew completely.

I loved being pregnant, I felt blessed in a way that seemed so undeserved. Everyday I thanked God for being so good to me, allowing me to become a mother. After 48 hours in labor and an eventual c-section, I delivered my son. I still well up when I think back to this moment in my life because truly no accomplishment has ever come close to this moment. One day the nurse walked in to my room while I was holding my son and she said, "what's the matter" as I cried, I told her that my mother had told me that my whole life, perspective and everything I believed in would change forever and I realized she was right. Nothing would ever be the same. No longer would I be free of worry and the love that I felt at that moment could have filled all the oceans in the world.

My son is now 14, I worry about him, hoping that I have shown him strength, perseverance, love, generosity, kindness and good values. Sometimes he is typical of most children that age, he can be selfish, unfocused, and will often take the path of least resistance. I try to model the opposite of these things and present him with opportunities to gain the first qualities. In these times of video games, MTV, and television that is often demoralizing, it can be a hard struggle for a parent. I am not giving up though. I vow to direct my son even when he is resistant, and at times angry with me because at the end of the day, I know that he knows how much I love him and that is why I will always challenge him to think, react and challenge his own purpose in life and examine his own character.

Prior to my second marriage, my son and I were on our own for 6 years. I did not date often (3 times actually and never a second date), for I knew I was not emotionally ready. I had to figure out somethings for myself. Examine why I made certain choices and how I could make a better and different life for myself and my son. I had vowed to spend at least one major holiday and birthday by myself to ensure my own emotional growth. Though the road that lead me to where I am was bumpy to say the least, I gained a much smoother future because of it. Best of all, I got my one and only child, truly a gift that I don't take for granted and one that I give thanks for every single day.

The second happiest day will follow soon....

2007-02-25T10:28:00.000-08:00

Celebrating the women in my life....,

As I end my week off from work, one thing comes to mind and that is how very blessed I am to have such wonderful, smart, sassy and funny women in my life.

A quick note of the picture on the left....this is me (I did not know how to post it in my profile) as I typically look. You might ask yourself why the need to portray myself in this fashion? Well, as you read on and I explain about my adult sleepover at my friend Paula's home it will become clear. Going back to my girl friends.....as I look at my life it is very clear how these incredible women have been in my life longer than my child, my husband and even my loving dog. They have been there through all of my adventures, misadventures, tragedies, joys and growth as a human being. They are my allies, my sisters, my therapists, my personal librarians, my sounding boards but above all they are are my spiritual soul mates. The connections are not just chance happenings, these connections are deeply bound in the soul of our earthly existence. In the book, "Many Lives, Many Masters", it is said that no relationship that we currently have is coincidental, most people in our lives are intrinsically woven together through our past lives. I am a deep believer in this.

This week, I got very sad but optimistic news that my friend Patti ( also my son's god-mother) was diagnosed with bladder cancer. She went in for what she believed was a simple removal of a cyst on her bladder, later to be told that it was a cancerous tumor. Patti lives in Florida and it was difficult not to get on the next airplane to be by her side. She being who she is assured me that she is ok and that it was not invasive. Patti is an incredibly strong and bright woman who has handled her life with humor and hope. I know that she will be alright. By the way, when discussing how and why.... it turns out that smoking (which she does a lot) is an absolute way to getting bladder cancer (this I did not know). So for all, be well informed and pass it on.

On Thursday, my son had a sleepover at his friends house. Luckily for me their mother is one of my dearest friends. Paula and I have habitually over the years provided deep caring for each other through many of our crisis. So when our boys have a sleep over we ask ourselves why not have a grown up sleepover. It entailed eating (of course), drinking of wine (of course), and not ever a word of criticism only praise (of course). Being with your girl friends is a free for all love fest. No one is more generous with compliments (i.e. God you look great, you are so funny, that color is great for you, I miss you, I love you, you are so wonderful) and so the evening moves along like a long embrace that fills you with warmth and smells like potpourri. The evening ended with a heating pad (for my bad back), a shoulder pillow that was heated through with herbs (for stress) and cold compresses for my eyes ( to relief my headache).

Can Anyone say "Alien" - if that is not the worse picture I have ever seen (Big Lie - there is a worse one but out of vanity I could not display). A girl has to keep some dignity. My son walked in and screamed, said I looked like a dead alien. He kindly took the picture.

We did manage to get some sleep and as we parted the next day we realize that we don't have enough sleepovers or time together and felt very blessed for our friendship. My dear girl friends are busy, hard working women, mothers and wives. Each one representing so many valued human traits. I am lucky......

So to all my girl friends and you all know who you are, I'd like to say thank you so very much for the wonderful, full hearted, soul quenching gift of you.
Addendum:
I want to take a moment to honor someone special, since I just realized todays date. My beautiful niece Annabelle died 5 years ago today after complications from Gastro by-pass surgery. She was 27 years old, my brothers first born. She had struggled her whole life with obesity and thought this would be her chance to start a new life. When we talked about it, she often spoke with great sadness about the looks she got on the subway, in the market, on the streets. She had many friends, was a poet and writer, but sadly she knew that people judged her by her looks. Some not ever knowing how brilliant she was......

2007-02-20T10:56:00.000-08:00

"Where is the simplicity I search for...."

I am off from work this week and I've been trying to stay focused and get stuff done. This stuff (which is neither this nor that) is very overwhelming to me. The harder I try the more unfocused I get. So today I endeavor a trip to Lens Crafter (at the mall - which in itself can send me into a tailspin), to get my reading glasses prescription filled. It takes me five minutes to pick a pair and pay the sales women (an amount which was ludicrous). The woman assured me that I had chosen the most fairly priced ones. I pay for them and am to come back in an hour. When I come back the place is packed, so I patiently (not so) sit and wait for the glasses that I paid too much for, and I wait and wait. While waiting I notice that there is a clearance rack which I had not been shown and there are a very similar pair of glasses but half the price. So I take a deep a breathe and mutter to myself "it is what it is".

An hour and ten minutes later the women comes, hands me my glasses and says cheerfully "you are all set". There was to be no fine tuning, looking in the mirror, nothing. So off I go back into the mall, where masses of teens and their moms shop vigorously for the perfect (very expensive) handbag, jeans, underwear etc....I am amazed at how young girls (11 - 13) are shopping at Victoria's Secret. At that age, I only bought white cotton (maybe some florals) undees from Woolworth. What is wrong with this society?
Glumly, I come home and I look yearningly at pictures of my home in rural PA, where I long to be full-time. The house is a old mess of a house that needs much TLC, but I love it. I love all critters large and small and even the neighbors chocolate lab that takes enormous poops on my property. I don't even mind the squirrels that reside in my attic, rolling there nuts about the floor in what sounds like bowling. I love the smell of country air and watching the birds on the feeder. This is the place that provides the most sincere simplicity to me. No one cares what you wear since most people live on farms and fashion is not of great concern. It is a simple living style where the world seems to slow down and my blood pressure immediately stabilizes.

I count the weeks until we open our home and I am able to truly go home. I know that all the critters await and the wild turkeys will once again be seen crossing the road in wild abandonment. I will find nuts in baskets, window sills, the bathroom and even on my bed.....as if to say "Welcome Home"

2007-02-18T09:47:00.000-08:00

2007-02-16T19:21:00.000-08:00

Of Chocolate and Friendship - "It is easy to love someone at their best, love, is being able to love them at their worse"

As I spent yet another Valentine's Day pondering if I should fore go the fact that I have recently felt like a stuffed sausage or indulge in purchasing my own valentines chocolates as a reward for being a half way decent (or as my son often states) annoying mom and a loving and supportive wife, I am left with no purchase and wondering why it is that I am buying my own chocolate. My husband is not a romantic fellow but can be guilted into small gifts such as my latest Nora Jones CD. My dearest son Jon being a most typical teenager, I don't believe has a moment ( and I mean it ) of thinking of anyone other than himself. He is a lovely, sweet boy who feels badly after the fact, but not for too long. I think if Buster my dog could make purchases I'd be drowning in chocolate, for truly no one loves me as much as my dog (even if my husband says its impossible for dogs to feel love).

Truth be told, my husband and I have made a pact (way after the new year, so that if we fail, its not another failed resolution), to lose the several pounds we have put on since our marriage. I am guilty of being an emotional eater, not just the sad emotions but all, including happiness, joy, sorrow, sickness and death. Food is the one thing I never give up, even with a stomach virus lurking. I am not considered fat by most, but naked, lets just say there are doubles of many things and I am not speaking of my breasts.

Women in their forties can be such compassionate friends to each other. My friend Lisa is honest, funny and never delusional about our bodies. As we are very honest about this bizarre and very annoying take over by fat. The other day as I stood getting ready for work I starred and found to my dismay the many doubles taking over but yet even a most alarming fact.....one of my cheeks (not facial) appears to be drooping slightly lower than the other. What!!!! I ask myself, "the heck is that"? And now I am relieved that I decided against the lovely dark chocolate box. Lisa is truly understanding for she also shares my discoveries as we whisper to each other on the phone about our current findings. Whispering so, as if in doing so, no one but us will know this little secret.
Both of us disturbed, yet comforted by the fact that its happening to the two of us and we are not alone.

I dare say, that Valentines in my forties has taken a new look. Forget the gorgeous boxes of delicious chocolate varieties. Valentine's Day will be a time to reflect with good friends about how we use to be able to indulge in chocolate without any thought to bloating, drooping, or sagging and how one small delicious bite is better than eating the entire box. True I cannot promise that I am giving up chocolate for good, that would be ridiculous, really, but not getting that card board, red, heart shaped box will not devastate me.

So here I am in my forties, not so thin and maybe a little droopy, but I am loved.....by many. Thank goodness.

2007-02-06T18:16:00.000-08:00

"A Spoon is not a Spoon, it is a tool to be reckoned with"

My current husband and I decided to pursue counseling, (we've been married a year and a half) to help us communicate, understand and basically stop bickering. Recently one of our most memorable bickerings (is that a word) entailed a serving spoon with a wooden handle. My husband, being a mid-westerner and a farmer, is rather frugal, practical, orderly and at times a little Obsessive Compulsive. I, having lived on Long Island for 20 years am not as, lets say, practiced in the art of over thinking. On one particular morning as I am getting ready to go to work, I was cleaning the kitchen and put the said spoon in the sink. My husband was very taken back by my actions and told me that I really should not do that, as the spoon will warp and be destroyed (he brought this spoon into our marriage). I looked at him, thinking "are you kidding me". My husband then spent some time telling me how he has kept very few things from the past and he really takes care of all these things in a most delicate manner. I, trying to keep my patience, told him that though I think he's over the top, I will respect his love for the spoon and never just leave it in the sink. I vowed to clean it and put it away immediately. My husband then got upset and said, "what's the point, I might as well throw it in the garbage" (and he does)
because if I cannot respect the tool for all its purpose then there is no point in keeping it.

As we sit on the couch in our therapists office and I retell this story, as one of those things we argue about. Our therapist who is a kindly man in his 60's turns to my husband Allen and asks him how he views my reciting of the story. Allen then proceeds to explain his outlook on my side of the story explaining the meaningfulness of the spoon. The therapist nods and listens, nods again while saying aha, aha, aha. He then tries to analyze the connection between the spoon and our marriage and what we as partners are seeking. I sit quietly, but then it happens I look at the therapist and I start to giggle, then it becomes uncontrollable and I bury my face in the couch as Allen is still trying to keep the therapists' attention to his theory on the spoon. The laughter erupts out of me so out of control and when the therapist turns to me and ask, "and what are you feeling?" - I laughed so hard that I could not speak, it was like the time when I was in 6th grade and someone said the word "Nostril" - I laughed so hard that the teacher asked me to leave the room. This time though no one asked me to leave, the therapist and Allen just stared at me as if I'd lost it. Needless to say our session ended and I still could not regroup myself, I laughed even as we got in the car to go home and thought to myself if this is what we fight about I think we are going to be just fine.

The spoon was rescued from a terrible fate in the garbage and now sits in its place of honor. For those of us who are challenged in marriage (who isn't) and life for that matter, let us celebrate our inner laughter.

2007-02-05T13:33:00.000-08:00

"A continuation of my whereabouts during and after The Bronx."

The Bronx to me, not knowing any better, was a place that provided many opportunities for personal growth. It is truly where I learned much resiliency and a good reality check even though I was not aware that it was happening. My Mother worked in a vegetable factory as a packer. She endured many years of working with ice to the point of crippling her hands with arthritis. She was gone very early and came home very late at night. This giving me a great opportunity to explore my independence and freedom from a watchful eye - which trust me I often needed, a watchful eye that is. My sister lived at home (she was 10 years older but certainly not wiser), and for the most part was in charge of my care. My sister hated this job more than she disliked me. Most of the time she disengaged herself from me (age 10) to go meet with her friends or boyfriends. This worked out very nicely for the two of us. The only time she took her charge of me seriously was when she needed to put me to child labor (i.e. ironing, doing dishes etc.).

During the times when I was left on my own I escaped into my world of books. I remember the RIF (Reading is Fundamental) van coming to the neighborhood. I believe that this RIF
program was designed to get children in lower income neighborhoods reading. This was my dream come true, since there was no nearby library and it gave me something else to do other than hang out with the kids on the block. Back then playing jacks, hopscotch, and Mod Squad (I played Julie the blond cop even though I had olive skin, dark hair and my English was still on the ESL level) and double dutch (something that I never perfected, well in all honesty I tripped so often I gave up) were the entertainment of choice. I feel sorry for the kids today who wouldn't know or recognize the value of playing these games or the joy of reading.

Reading was my escape, my hope and vision to all the possibilities of a world that was so much greater than my small world in The Bronx. I learned to desire, yearn, and envision through reading. Even now it is my favorite escape.

Years later, when I first married at the age of 24, I moved to the suburbs of Long Island. Never did I believe that I would be left with a longing for a place which I believed everyone left. I thought that The Bronx was just a stepping stone to a greater leap, yet, what I realized after many years on Long Island, was that the Bronx was the the great rock foundation of my journey. A place where I would return over and over again when I needed to find my center and solid ground. It was the very foundation of who I was, who I am and who I will be tomorrow.

2007-02-04T15:54:00.000-08:00

February 4th, 2007

My title ".....life, how did I get here?" evolved mostly from my ever changing life. It seems to me, in all of my 44 years, that I am always grasping at the complexity or simplicity of my own life. Starting with my own birth at home in Puerto Rico, where my mother (age 45 at the time) went into labor rather quickly with no opportunity to get to the nearest hospital ( which really in those days was probably 3 hours away). As the story would have it, or as my brother likes to tell it, my mother gave birth to me at home with the help of a midwife, who my brother states jokingly, "had put a few away" prior to coming to help my mother with my new life. So there goes my beginning, brought into this world by a half drunk woman into the very home where my maternal grandmother had passed away. A home made of stone with a tin roof - which made the most wonderful music to my ears when it rained. A very humble bare home where my mother found love, hope and a new beginning with my father.

My parents moved to New Jersey when I was 4 as was typical of many latino's back then seeking a better life and work. We lived with my aunts, uncles and cousins so that my father could save money. By the time I turned 5 my father had met someone much younger than my mother and left. I need to say on my fathers behalf that my mother and he had been together many years before I was born and that my mother was 20 years his senior. My mother, sister and I then moved to the Bronx where some of my older half siblings lived.

For those of us who come from the Bronx, especially in the 60's and 70's, we can say that it was a great and adventurous time. My mother worked and struggled - always. Life was hard, but let me tell you, it was fun. Looking back at my youth I have no regrets, well maybe a few (like when I hid a boy in the closet and my mother almost had a heart attack when she bumped into his leg.....ooops). I have been incredibly blessed even when times were challenging and difficult. My mother just celebrated her 90th birthday and is in good health. She is funny, smart and insightful. Having my mother is an extraordinary gift. She has seen so much changes in our world - through technology, the environment, politics and in the lessons that she has learned via her own life and that of her children. She is my inspiration to continue seeking, learning and being hopeful.