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".

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.

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!!

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.

"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.

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.

" 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.....

"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.......

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.

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.

"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.

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.

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.

"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....

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......

"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"

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.