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.

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).

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......

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

.....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??

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.

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)

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.......

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

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.

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.