The Seesaw that is Life

A young woman is sitting behind a huge desk in the lobby of the nursing home.  She has a big, beautiful smile, as she seems delighted to have someone to welcome.  My husband leans down and signs the visitor book as he notices that his father has been there since 10 am this morning, it is now 6 pm. 

My mother-in-law was placed in this facility about a month ago when her Alzheimer’s reached a point where my father-in-law, at 89 years old, simply found it impossible to properly care for her and protect himself (and her) at the same time.   One evening, when my father-in-law refused to take her on a fool’s errand, one she had imagined in her Alzheimer’s state, she attacked him with her cane.  The police were called and the last few years of getting by, of making do and getting along…they were blown away.

My father-in-law is a mellow man.  Actually, until my mother-in-law became ill, he never really spoke much at all.  I was always amazed at his silence and just assumed it was his way of coping, getting along and keeping the peace.  But, in reality, I think he was just deeply in love with his wife and wanted to please her.  My mother-in-law was a strong woman; I don’t mean to speak of her in the past tense as she is still here physically; yet mentally she is no longer strong.  Alzheimer’s and medications have left her docile.

For a bit over 63 years my in-laws have been married.  The balance that such a long-standing marriage demands has become more and more obvious to me as my marriage is now half way through its 33^rd year.  In order for a couple to remain together, roles are taken and kept and as long as things remain in their usual pattern, there isn’t much change.  From an outsiders’ viewpoint, my in-laws marriage had a unique balance in that my mother-in-law made the plans, the rules, and held the upper hand while my father-in-law went along so as to not upset the apple cart.  I am sure that if something truly mattered to him, he would have spoken up, but, for the most part, his sanity and his peace were enhanced as long as my mother-in-law was happy. 

When my mother-in-law’s Alzheimer’s became more and more evident, the balance gradually shifted.  As my mother-in-law grew more silent and became less capable, my father-in-law grew louder and took on more responsibility.  The balance was maintained; only the seesaw was heading in the other direction.  It took for my mother-in-law to get so low that no amount of balance could be maintained, for outside forces to be needed and for the time on the playground to come to an end.

Now, my father-in-law sits with my mother-in-law in the nursing home most of the day.  He keeps her company until he just cannot sit anymore.  He comes to our house for dinner or takes himself out, then goes home.  It must be a very odd feeling for him.  He must feel a mixture of loneliness and relief.  Loneliness for the wife he knew and loved all those years, yet relief in the lifting of the burden and the fear that comes from caring for someone who has lost her ability to think clearly and is a potential danger to all around her.  After all, the fire department was called twice as small fires started in their apartment because she forgot and left something to burn in the oven.

Watching this transformation these last few years, a transformation that I have mentioned before, is in many ways (of all things) a life affirming reality.  When, in a previous blog I wrote that one of the nice things about Alzheimer’s is that my mother-in-law forgot she never really liked me, I meant it.  The wall that she built, from the time my husband told her we had decided to marry until the time that her illness became evident, collapsed.  I tried very hard to knock down that wall in the beginning of my connection with the family, but after years of watching the wall get ever stronger, I simply gave up.  Yet now, the wall has vaporized, with only the indentation left on the ground where it once stood. The indentation is the memory of the years of hurt that once existed, but there is no longer anything there to push the buttons.

Life changes.  My children are grown, my father passed away over three years ago.  With each sunrise we step ever so closer to the next stage of life.  That next stage had always been filled with excitement and promise in my mind.  From teenage years to college years to young married life to having babies, then to enjoying the beautiful people the babies grew to be…each stage was filled with light and laughter for the most part, and for that I am eternally thankful.

What will this next stage bring?  I see my father-in-law and how he has so drastically morphed into a new person, at 89!!  Although his transformation has grown out of hardship and necessity, he has still come into his own.  I am sure he would gladly revert to the introverted, silent man with the happy, forceful wife if given the choice, but the choice is not an option and so he has adapted.

There is much to look forward to, I hope, in the years to come; with laughter and love and as our family expands through my children’s relationships.  I look forward to weddings and grandchildren and vacations and new homes, G-d willing.  I enjoy the families that are becoming an ever important part of my own – the parents and families of my children’s significant others.  These beautiful people I now consider family!  Who would have guessed I would have family in Colorado and Connecticut?!  These new family members have grown very important to me.  I am so thankful, so grateful that we all feel so instantly attached.  I am so extremely honored to be included in their lives.

Because of this, it is with great optimism, love, promise and warmth that I am looking forward to this next stage in life.  The more the merrier!!  As the seesaw of life moves, I believe the trick is to enjoy each and every vantage point, each changing view as it happens and go with the flow.

The days may go round and round like the carousel, but the ups and down of the seesaw are the years.  In either case, hold on tight and never let go of those you love.

Our Popcorn

 

Almost 17 years ago, my children were little and our adorable black and white, half poodle, half yorkie ~ a cute little girl dog, Pumpkin, died.  We were heart broken.  My husband and I bought Pumpkin when we were first married and had our first home.  She was part of our family before we had children.  She was a great dog, loving and fun and always good company ~ she went from being the star of our home, to a happy buddy for our children. 

Pumpkin died a few short months before we were to leave for a family vacation.  Although we knew we wanted to have another dog in the house, as a family we decided to wait until after our vacation.  We didn’t think it was fair to bring a new puppy into the house only to kennel her for 10 days almost immediately after bringing her home.  This plan was in stone……

That was summertime, 1996.  In those days, we belonged to a swim club near our home as it was prior to us building our pool in our backyard.   It was a warm, wonderful summer and every day possible we would go to the club and sit with friends, enjoying the sunshine, the camaraderie and the pool.  My son and daughter had fun with children their age and I sat with my good friend Robin, and another wonderful woman, Beth. 

On day, early in the summer, Beth mentioned that her Maltese just had a litter of puppies.  Growing up, I had two Maltese dogs (both female), Chi Chi and Cutie Pi.  Unfortunately, Chi Chi died young, but Cutie Pi was my buddy all through my years growing up.  Cutie Pi was my friend, my confidant, and I loved her.  Maltese dogs are cute, small, happy and adorable. 

I had an instant premonition that our plan of not having another dog before our Florida vacation was quickly vanishing. 

In trying to think of a way out, a way I would not be tempted, I told Beth that I definitely wanted a female dog as I had always heard horror stories of boy dogs damaging furniture.  I don’t know where I got that idea, but it was in my head.  When Beth said she had a female for sale, I knew I was in deep trouble. 

With the idea of “just visiting” the puppies, we all went to “see” them that night.  We drove up to Beth and Marc’s home and as they opened the door the cutest sight hit us.  There were little balls of fluffy white, tails wagging, slight yapping and lots of jumping all around us.  Beth led us to her den where a child’s playpen was set up.  Inside the playpen were the puppies for sale. (The ones yapping and playing all around us were Beth’s own Malteses’, the parents of the puppies in the playpen)!

In the corner was a very cute little female puppy. She was sitting calmly, nestled against the weave of the playpen.  We tried to pick her up, but this other little dog, a male, “Mr. Piggy” Beth called him because of his amazing appetite, kept getting in the way!  Gently we pushed Mr. Piggy aside as we ABSOLUTELY did not want a male dog.  The female tried to evade us, meanwhile, Mr. Piggy was jumping all around, wagging his tale, running to Michael then to Lauren, looking at us and just being generally Mr. Personality if not Mr. Piggy! 

I did not want a male dog.  That was certain.

Beth picked up the female and brought her to us.  I already had a name in mind, Sweetie Pi….in keeping with my Maltese, Cutie Pi.  We held the little, tiny girl Maltese and tried to play with her, but she truly had no interest.  Meanwhile, there hopped Mr. Piggy!  He jumped over to my son and licked his hand!  He then bounced over to my daughter and sat near her, his tail flapping happily from side to side.

Needless to say, we bought Mr. Piggy.  Beth promised (and kept her promise) to babysit him during our Florida vacation so we didn’t have to kennel him.  I went home with a happy family, and an ecstatic male Maltese.

The rest of that day and that night we couldn’t get over the personality this little puppy possessed.  He was just so cute.  But, we had one more issue, a name.  Since he was a boy, Sweetie Pi just didn’t seem appropriate.  Although Mr. Piggy was a cute name, we wanted to choose his name ourselves.  Hercules, Kiwi and Paul were top contenders, but somehow, they just didn’t seem right.  As we threw names out and while we were making signs for a garage sale we were holding that weekend, my son decided it was time to make all of us a snack.  Popcorn.   Popcorn!!  Popcorn!!!!  The perfect name for this cute, white, fluffy, happy puppy previously named Mr. Piggy!! 

Well, that was almost 17 years ago.  Today, as I’ve written before, Popcorn is still here.  He may have a weak heart, no teeth, can’t see well and doesn’t hear much…. but he is still here.  He has accidents and has ruined our carpet, but he doesn’t seem to be in any physical pain.  We love him.  He is the last of his litter to still be alive.  He has kept us company through good and bad times.  He has played joyfully and eaten heartily, but now he mostly sleeps.  Popcorn was once the cutest, happiest, most fun dog, a male dog who never damaged one piece of furniture, but now he is old, tired and sometimes a bit cranky. 

How do we know when, if ever, the time is right to compassionately put him to sleep?  How do we even consider such a thing, even though most people we know seem to think it is the right thing to do at this time?  I asked a vet that came into the store where I work the other day and he simply said we would know; he said there is no right answer.  But, then Poppy, as we sometimes call him, will have a coughing fit.  He will arch his back and stretch his leg in a weird, stiff, uncomfortable looking way.  Is he in pain?  He doesn’t yelp.  How do we know, are we being selfish?  Should we just let nature take its course? 

Looking at Popcorn now, it is miraculously easy to look beyond his weaknesses and remember the happy little bouncy puppy that seemed to dance before us with a top hat and cane, tempting us to take him home and become part of our family.  Our going with our hearts at that time was one of our most wonderful decisions even though it went against everything we had sworn we would do.

So, I guess that tells me that the decision to make now is to go with our hearts.  Our hearts say, stay Poppy.  Stay until you show us, and we know it’s time you want to go.  You showed us it was right to take you home years ago and I have to believe you will let us know when you want us to let you go now.

You have been such a great friend and such an important part of our family, Popcorn.  We love you.  

My Cousin and I

Did you ever have someone in your life that you could say anything to, and it would be understood and okay? I am lucky beyond belief in that I have always had such a person – from the moment I was born, my cousin, Ellen. 

I spoke with Ellen, this morning. I can honestly say I never remember a time when she wasn’t in my life as a confidante, a friend, a ‘sister’, a helper and an on-the-spot therapist.  Her strength, honesty, selflessness, and love are apparent in everything she does and to everyone she encounters.

When we were young, very young, our Grandparents would babysit for us when our Moms went out shopping.  (Our Moms are sisters, and also best friends)  We made doll houses out of paper and cotton balls, we danced in circles to Mickey Katz records – check it out…..here or here or here.  We laughed from morning to night.

If you listen to the link above, you’ll be able to imagine how hard we laughed as we danced around our Grandparents living room.  The laughter and joy we shared, as young girls, only grew deeper and more meaningful as we grew older.  I could go on for hundreds of pages describing all the times we shared, good, bad, worried, joyful…. every life experience.  Through it all, if I needed her, she was there in a heartbeat. 

We live too far apart to see each other as often as either of us would like, and our schedules don’t permit us to talk all the time like we did when we were young; but, when we do talk it is straight from the heart.  To each other, there is no need to couch anything, hide anything, or exclude anything.  She knows every flaw I have and loves me anyway…how lucky is that?

If every person in the world could have someone like my cousin in her life, there would be more laughter and joy in this world and less hate and distrust.  When I’m down or worried I know all I have to do is call her.  Just talking with her allows me to breath again because she tells me when I’m off the wall (which is frequent) and she tells me when I’m not. 

I don’t think I tell her often enough how much she means to me but she has made my life richer each and every day.  I just finished a wonderful book that made me think about the different relationships in my life.  I am truly grateful for the many, many people that I love and care about ~ my family, my friends, every one holds a special place in my heart.  In time, I will write about each of them. However, the sister of my soul is my cousin.

If the world were full of Ellens, it would certainly be a more beautiful place.  

Appreciate those in your life that have stuck by you through thick and thin.  If you are fortunate to have such a person or even luckier, persons like this, I hope you know how lucky you are.  I know I do.

Next Sunday is Mother's Day

Sitting here,waiting for my banana/chocolate chip bars to cool, it hit me thatnext Sunday is Mother’s Day.  To me, there is nothing more important thanthe complete honor and total joy of being a Mom.  My daughter and my sonare my heart and soul.  They fillmy world with pride and love every single minute of every single day ~ all yearthrough.

In my gut, ineverything that makes me me, I feel it is I that should give them gifts on thisspecial day; for on this special day I takestock and evaluate myself as a Mom.  My strong points, my weak points, myjoys and my struggles; to me, it’s a take stock, annual evaluation time.  How am I adjusting tothe different situations and experiences that inevitably spring up as timemoves along?  Am I making their lives easier or more difficult?  What do they need to see from me inorder to free them so they may be all they can be?

The stories Ihave written about in this blog over the last year that related to my observancesof young moms and their young children now come to mind.  Those early days,when the stresses of little sleep and 24/7 attention to every aspect of yourchild’s well-being are not that long ago that I forget them, but they are longenough ago that I am wistful.  Remembering the days when they were both home, when I was so very much a part of their lives and they mine, those days that seemed unending...yet, they ended.

My daughter and son are grown now,adults.  They don’t “need” me anymore, although I like to think they valuemy thoughts and feelings – and I believe they do.  When I look at or thinkof each of them - my heart fills with an impossible to ever adequately express love andpride. 

They haveeach become loving, caring, thoughtful, intelligent, truly good-hearted people.  Iwould like to say I had something to do with that, but in reality I believethey had everything to do with it themselves.  Both my husband and I always believed,as my parents taught me, that children should be given the “benefit of thedoubt” and trusted as long as and until they show otherwise.  My childrennever showed otherwise.  Maybe I’m just lucky or maybe people really wouldrather do good things, or maybe it’s a little bit of both, but that structure sure worked for us.

I neverneeded to punish or rein them in; they were actually harder on themselves thanI ever would have been.  They worried about their grades, they worked hard without any coaxing.  I used toask THEM to take a day off from school here or there because I was selfish andenjoyed their company so much. Sometimes they would agree and we would spend the day together andsometimes they would tell me they had to go to school, had important things tobe there for, and I had to acquiesce. No matter what the outcome, it was their decisions that ruled the day.  Even when they were young, they were responsible and trustworthy.

All throughtheir childhood, my favorite place to be was with them.  I never understood how some Mom’sclaimed they needed “their time”. Listening to them, watching them, laughing with them, was always thegreatest most important part of any day. It still is.  And althoughseeing them is no longer a daily occurrence, I am lucky in that they still touchbase (calling myself base here).  Hearing about their day,learning what they are learning and accomplishing, I am happy.

Mother’s Dayis a funny day.  Of course on onehand, I want to be sure to let MY Mom know that I love her and value her.  The traditional appreciation for who mymom has always been to me is worthy of so much love and gratitude and the opportunity to tell her is very important.  I guess I would hope that mychildren would also agree with that sentiment. However, on the other hand, I think the holiday makes too much out ofchildren giving to their Moms.  Itruly believe my children have already given me the most cherished gift of mylifetime, the honor of being their mom. That is all the gift I will ever want or need. Leading happy, fulfilled,healthy lives full of love and positive experiences is the gift I hope theycontinually give through their life experiences.  Lives full ofappreciation for all the magical and wonderful happenings that fill even themost ordinary of days; the willingness to see the smallest good and turn itinto the most exquisite joy.

Watching thembecome who they are has been the most cherished gift of my life.  If I were wealthy, monetarily wealthy,I would take the opportunity to give them all I could to affordthem the freedom of doing the work of their heart’s desire.  Since that monetary wealth is not withinmy grasp, I hope what I have given them is the knowledge that they can andshould pursue their own path and follow that path wherever it may lead.  I hope, selfishly, that one day thepath leads back toward home, toward where my husband and I are, but, if itdoesn’t and they are happy and fulfilled, that is what really matters ~ and Iunderstand and support them. 

When I thinkabout it, when I honestly look inside my heart to grasp how I feel, I realizethat on Mother’s Day I should send each of them, my Lauren and my Michael agift and a card, for they are the most spectacular gifts of my life.  My husband and I may have brought theminto this world, but they have given us the world. 

I hope Laurenand Michael know that I respect, appreciate, love, and value them for who theywere when they were small and for who they are now that they are grown.  I am honored, completely honored, to betheir mother.  I am prouder of themthan I could ever put into words. And, although I know that at times I may get on their nerves with myworries and concerns, I do believe they understand and I believe they know thatI truly do trust their actions and know that they are competent and wise. 

Mother’s Daymay be next Sunday, but honestly, every time I look at or think of my children,it is Mother’s Day to me.

HappyMother’s Day everyone ~ Mom, I love you…. Lauren and Michael…thank you forgiving me the honor of motherhood and for the love that I would never haveknown without you.

The Winds of Change are Blowing

Sitting here, I can hear the wind snapping at the roof.   The leaves on the trees are bending and swaying as if they alone can dance to the musical hum of the whipping wind.  Listening to the symphony of shingles shifting and the pool cover flapping against the cement, I realize the inside of my house is oddly silent.  The television is off, my IPod is quiet, no one is speaking and nothing is running in the background – no dishwasher or washing machine.  The house is truly quiet except for the music of nature.

Every so often a stronger wind gust blows some unsuspecting sand off our back patio, it swirls rapidly before once again settling into a new home on the pavers.  I guess in many ways, the sand in the wind is like my life.   The winds of change are blowing me out of my comfort zone.  Where I am settled now may soon be quite different from where the winds will drop me; a new place that is hopefully close to where I am now, but different enough to warrant adjustment.

This past weekend was a holiday weekend.  Passover was celebrated in our home; while Easter was celebrated in the homes of many people we love and care about.  Honestly, Passover was never one of my favorite holidays.  I remember having a discussion with our Rabbi many years ago about what I felt to be the incongruence of the celebration.  The story we tell at the Seder consists of the celebratory tale of the Jewish peoples’ exodus from slavery in Egypt.  It celebrates freedom.  In short, the Jews had to exit their homes quickly, so there was no time for their bread to rise.  In honor of this fast exit, we eat unleavened food for the duration of the holiday.

My beef with this celebration is that it was the time that the Jews lacked, not the ingredients…therefore, it seems we should need to eat fast food this week, be forced to eat in restaurants, not cook at all!  But, instead, we labor in the kitchen for hours preparing foods to work as substitutes for what we enjoy the rest of the year.  Substitute foods are prepared; foods that never taste as good as the real thing.  (Some may try to argue this point with me and say how much they enjoy Passover food.  If that were true, why wouldn’t bakeries sell Passover cakes and cookies all year round?  I’ll tell you why; they taste like the sand on which the Jews traveled for 40 years, the sand that is whipping around my patio!)

Contrast Passover with Easter.  On Good Friday, Jesus was crucified.  On Sunday, he was reborn.  If this were a Jewish holiday, we would have to push pins through our hands or starve all day to relate to his suffering on Friday.  On Sunday, we would celebrate his rebirth by perhaps lighting a birthday candle, Yippee!!  For a people that really do know how to party, our holiday celebrations don’t do us justice.  Why can’t we celebrate our freedom with decorated, beautiful cakes, gifts, spring colors, and smiles instead of dipping bitter herbs and drowning gefilte fish was beet stained horseradish? 

As always, I “keep” Passover in my own way.  I don’t eat the bread, cake, cookies, crackers, peas and corn as I do the other 357 days of the year.  I don’t clean out my house of all bread products because my daughter and I are the only ones in the house who try to restrain from eating these foods.  Because of this, religious Jews would obviously say I am not keeping Passover.  To them I say, you’re right.  But, my daughter and I keep it our way out of respect for who we are and out of hope that one day, someone will stand up and say…they didn’t run out of bread, they ran out of time!!  And on that miraculous day, Jews all over the world will rush to various fast food outlets and nosh to their hearts delight for the eight days of Passover! 

There are changes that are happening, however, as the consistent beating of the wind against my window reminds me.  These changes are on a personal level.  I write often about my children being adults now. Thoughts of downsizing our home, ridding ourselves of so many accumulated odds and ends, looking down the road at being empty nesters…these changes like that grain of sand being blown in the air by a sudden wind and forced to settle into a new reality.  The shifting of reality, the day-to-day changes that seem overnight but really have been taking incremental steps for decades, these changes are reaching a new plateau.  Life is change…like the song says, “The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind, the answer is blowing in the wind.”

I hope the winds of change result in all of us landing in an interesting, comfortable new place.  Happy Holidays everyone, no matter what you celebrate, take pride and joy in being you.   Whether eating the sweets of Passover or Easter, or just the sweets of an ordinary day, beneath it all we should always remember that the only sweetness of any importance is the sweetness we offer one another.

Two Sides

Just as there are two sides to every story (at least 2 sides) there are at least two sides to every person, the mother’s side and the father’s side.

Most of the memories I write about are of my mother’s family.  My grandparents, my mother’s parents, lived well into their 90’s so I had the chance to know them all through my childhood and far into my married life.  They were a major part of my growing up, my early adult life and also a large part of my children’s youth.  This is obvious through my many blogs, which I hope you have enjoyed.

However, there is another side to me, my Father’s side.  I have fragmented, but happy memories of times spent with various members of my Dad’s side of the family.  There were Sunday afternoons when my Uncle Al, my Dad’s brother, who drove a bus, would bring his bus to our home after delivering church members for their services.  He would spend the time while they were in church at our house for Sunday morning bagels and lox.  If the Sunday happened to be a particularly lucky time for me, he would bring his grandson, Jeffry, along for the ride.  I enjoyed those mornings especially because Jeffry was a real good person, fun to spend time with. I always hoped we would spend more time together as we grew older; as of now, we haven’t done so. 

Other memories include cousin clubs where there was always endless food and warm, hearty laughter.  I don’t remember how often the cousins met, but when they did, it was special.  We would always leave with my Dad telling his cousins that they should really get together more often.  But, that never actually materialized and as the older generation passed away, their children, including myself, never continued the precedent. 

My Dad’s sister, my Aunt Elsie, was always an integral part of my life.  She was funny and direct, like my Dad, never really caring about being politically correct.  But, unlike my Dad, she always had and took the time to keep in touch with almost all members of her family, including those who lived far, far away.  She had two sons, my cousins, Bobby and Kenny.  Kenny was the same age as my oldest brother, and so he was about 10 years older than me.  Bobby was the older of the two boys, which, kept us from really knowing each other in the 'early days'.

Being that I was so much younger than my cousins, I didn’t interact with them very much at all while growing up.  My brothers’ reality is probably different in that regard, but then they would need to write a blog to discuss their impressions of those days.

Kenny was the cousin who told me to take a mental picture of those most important in my life while at my wedding.  I will always be so thankful to him for those mental images, as they are truly all I have of the day aside from the pictures the photographer took.  Without those images, I would have no recollection of the occasion from my own perspective.  Kenny was also a caring, competent dentist.  I always had a dental phobia, but when I was first married I had a tooth ache and Kenny told me to come into the office that day, a Sunday, and he would take care of it.  With my new husband as the dental assistant, since the office was closed, Kenny painlessly and without complaint, fixed my tooth.

A few years after that, Kenny married a lovely woman.  Their wedding was, to this day, one of the absolute loveliest I have ever attended.  It was held outside on his property, a large expanse of beautiful grounds.  The sun shone perfectly, it was warm, not hot, and the colors and scents that filled the air enhanced the beauty of the handsome, young couple.  I felt as though I was in the midst of a fairy tale.

Unfortunately, Kenny was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor and passed away far too young.  Although, he lived too short a time in years, he lived the years he had fully, enjoyed them completely.  From walking with him to taste the sweet fresh raspberries on his grounds, to talking to him before my wedding, there was something in Kenny that enabled him to enjoy life 100%.  That is a true gift.

This brings me to my cousin, Bobby.  My earliest memories of Bobby were of him when we lived a few houses away from each other.  Our parents had purchased homes on the same block.  Bobby was handsome beyond belief.  I remember one day seeing him on the front porch, sleeping on a lounge chair in the summer sun.  My Aunt’s rose bushes were all around him.  I remember thinking that since I was related to him, how bad could I possibly look??

Bobby left his parents home and lived many interesting places for many years.  I don’t know much about this time in his life, but I know his adventures took him to various places in Canada and also to the sunshine and beauty of Hawaii.  I missed knowing him in those times, and that is definitely my loss, but while I was growing up in suburbia, he was learning and growing and becoming one of the most beautiful men, inside and out, that I will probably ever know.

A few years ago, for some reason, which I honestly don’t remember, I had the chance to sit down and reconnect with my cousin.  What a gift!  We can chat for hours on end and I would want to talk more.  He has experienced so much and has a great ability to see through facades to what is important, love.

I am certainly a lucky lady when it comes to my cousins, on both sides.  They enrich my life with an acceptance and understanding that is unique.  My cousin, Ellen, on my Mom’s side and my cousin, Bobby, on my Dad’s; both of them are not only cousins, but friends, true, deep, caring, loving friends.

There are at least two sides to every story, and at least two sides to every family.  I am so thankful for the two sides of my story that support me and enable me to stand taller than I otherwise could.  From this height, hopefully one day I will see what I need to do.  I will grow up and stand up for the person I am now and the person I am still striving to be.

The Naked Truth

It’s odd how some things just pop into mind at certain times, out of the blue thoughts that meander to the forefront….

The other day I was talking to a good friend when a memory, as vivid as the day it happened, spilled from my lips.  My friend and I were reminiscing about long ago times, when we were the “young” people, like a young woman who had just left the store where we work.  There are quite a lot of young moms that visit our store every day, and they always remind me of times gone by.

So many of my memories from my days as a young Mom are centered on times with my children along with my Mother and Grandmother.  The memory that popped into my head the other day was one of those times.  My daughter was just 4 years old; my son wasn’t born yet.  It was a warm afternoon in early September and my daughter and I were visiting my parents’ apartment.  I remember the telephone ringing (in those days the phones were still attached to the walls).  My Mom answered and I could hear her say, “Okay Dad, we’ll be right there”.

As my Mom hung up the phone, she turned to me and said, “We have to go help Grandmom; she went in the tub to take a bath and can’t get out.  Grandpop needs our help.”

With that, we quickly rode the elevator down the four floors to the lobby.  We walked into the bright sunshine, across the parking lot and to the car.  I remember feeling anxious, wondering what was wrong with my Grandmother and why she couldn’t get out of the tub.  Thinking ahead, as I always do, to all the things that must be wrong in order to receive such an urgent request from my Grandfather, a man who never asked anyone for anything.

We arrived at my Grandparents’ apartment and didn’t take time to talk to any of the older people in the lobby as we pushed the button for the elevator.  The people in the lobby were always ready for conversation as most were lonely and congregated there for human contact.  I felt badly not interacting with them as we usually did, but this was obviously an emergency and we were in a rush.

My Grandfather opened the door before we even reached it.  He had been keeping his eye on the parking lot and knew we had arrived.  He calmly and softly let my Grandmother know, through the closed door, that we were there and that we would be coming into the bathroom to help her.  The door was closed, but luckily not locked.

My Mom and I went into the bathroom, leaving my daughter to play in the living room with my Grandfather.  She always loved visiting with him, as he was absolutely one of the kindest, gentlest, sweetest men to ever live, talk about your gentle giant, that was him!

As we walked into the bathroom, my Grandmother’s first words were, “Shut the door!”  I found that odd under the circumstances since the only people in the apartment, aside from my grandmother, were my Mom, my daughter, my Grandfather and myself.  Without thinking, I complied and shut the door.  I grabbed the bath towel that was on the counter and my Mom leaned over and actually quite easily helped my Grandmother out of the tub as I held up the towel to her.  Thankfully she was fine.

She instructed us to leave the bathroom and close the door.  We did.  We walked into my Grandparents bedroom in order to stay close in case she needed anything.  My grandmother was in no apparent rush as she dried off, put on her robe, combed her hair and eventually walked into the bedroom.    It wasn’t until I saw her walk into the bedroom that it hit me, there was nothing wrong, why couldn’t my Grandfather have helped her out of the tub?

Before I could censor myself, the question blurted out, “Grandmom, why didn’t you just let Grandpop help you out of the tub?”

A look of incredible shock was my Grandmother’s immediate reaction.  “Grandpop? Grandpop couldn’t help me out of the bathtub…he’s never seen me naked!!”

That’s when the look of incredible shock previously on my Grandmother’s face spread across my own.  “He’s never seen you naked?”  

“Grandmom”, I said, “you’re married for 64 years...you have two children!”

Her reply rings so clearly, so absolutely directly, in my mind…”It was dark.” She stated.

Wow, it was dark, that was her answer?!  So, after sharing a lifetime together, going through the depression, raising two daughters, enjoying grandchildren and great-grandchildren, comforting each other through loss and celebrating together during happy times, he never saw her without her clothes!

A generational difference I suppose.  Raised in a time when women didn’t work outside the home, didn’t drive, didn’t vote, they couldn’t bare their souls let alone their bodies even in the most intimate of relationships.  Amazing.

My grandmother was astounded that I found this incredible.  It was only years later that I realized my Grandfather had also, so naturally, gone along with this reality.  He never even thought, not for a second, that he could go in the bathroom and help her….

After all, he could have turned off the bathroom light…

A Life to Live By

Some blogs write themselves.  I close my eyes and when I open them again, the words are magically on the page.  This morning is a bit more difficult as it is the seventh anniversary of the day my nephew, Scott, passed away.  But, if you were lucky enough to know and/or love Scott, as I am, you would know he would not want the day to be filled with sadness.  That wasn’t him!  Scott was full of fun and life and big smiles and entertainment.  He was always ready and more than able to make you laugh – really, honestly, strongly, belly-laugh.  Scott could always lift your spirits and make you forget your troubles!  So, as his proud Aunt, I will carry on this blog today in Scott’s memory.  It will be a blog of life and hope for the love and smiles that he left to us every single day!

Scott completed a full-length movie, a remarkable feat.  The movie was amazingly profound and well beyond the usual understanding of life for someone his age at the time.  In the movie, he professes that one of the deepest meanings of life is “T.R.U.T.H. – To Really Understand The Harmony”.  How profound is that?!  Life is best when you are in harmony with it.  When the ups and downs reflect the truth and honesty of your feelings and when you are able to go with the flow.  The harmony of day and night, good and evil, rich and poor, and even health and sickness; Scott understood that a powerful, full life encompasses all of these things.   The fact that he understood it at such an early age and was also able to articulate it through his craft is beyond astounding. 

When I think of Scott, I think of happiness.  There was a time when my Mom and I were babysitting for him; he couldn’t have been more than 3 or 4 years old.  We tried to put him in the front seat of the shopping cart, but that was not even remotely what he had in mind.  He stood strong and powerful in the big portion of the cart, where the food is usually placed, as we carefully maneuvered through they aisles.  Proudly and adamantly, he held his right arm up high in the air and with great power and animation he sang “Pizza A One”!!  (At the time, there was an advertisement on television for Celeste frozen pizza, and he captured it almost exactly, except that the real words were Pizza For One!)  As we went through the aisles, he spread more smiles than you can imagine.  Heads turned and he made an ordinary shopping experience into a special memory for everyone in the store that day! I carry a mental picture of that time in my head and if Apple would make it possible for mental pictures to transfer to YouTube, it would get a million hits!

But, that was Scott!  Always bringing happiness to everyone, always sharing his love. 

In Scott’s honor and memory, I wish everyone a day filled with smiles.  It’s what he would have wished for each and every one of you.  But, along with those smiles, let his TRUTH live in your heart.  Let his understanding of that harmony - that it is best when all aspects of life are brought together make your life richer. With all of us singing in our own unique voices, let's sing out strong; harmonizing all the differences in life that blend together to make a better, richer, more interesting whole.  All through your life, stand up proudly in your cart of life as it rolls along, just as Scott did, and sing your own personal melody strong and with a gigantic smile!  


Scott would love that.


As found and perfectly stated on Imdb:  "Scott's movie, Shooting God, was based on the true story of Scott's older brother, Joel, who lost his battle with cancer, but inspired Scott to make the most of life. After accomplishing his dream of finishing the film, Scott was taken by cancer in 2005."

Life Affirming Humor in an Odd Situation!

Last Saturday my husband and I spent the afternoon with my in-laws.  I recently wrote a blog about my in-laws and all of our experiences surrounding my mother in law’s Alzheimer’s diagnosis.  Since the time of that blog, unfortunately, my mother-in-law’s condition has deteriorated.  She now becomes completely confused at times, disoriented, and they are encountering issues with her cooking, a task she is now truly incapable of performing.  The fire department has already been dispatched to their new apartment twice.

Because of this, my husband and I are not only obviously worried about the safety of my in-laws and all of the elderly living in their building, we also have concerns about their nutrition.  We instructed my father-in-law to remove the knobs from their stove so she can no longer use it.  We also told him how vital it is that she be watched constantly.  This, however, brings us all to a new level of concern with their independent living ability, and their ability to eat.  My father-in-law is old school and does not know how to scramble an egg. I wanted to teach him but he doesn’t want to hurt my mother-in-law’s feelings so he refuses to learn.

This brings me back to last Saturday.  We started the day by taking them to lunch at a wonderful little pizza place near their new apartment; a neighborhood establishment that they can go to on their own.  All the ingredients used at 'Jules' are organic and wholesome, while at the same time, truly inexpensive.  They provide water for free and since you choose your pizza at the counter, there is no tipping required.  A great way to not only go out to eat on a budget but also eat healthy since many of the toppings are vegetables!

After lunch, we took them food shopping in order to show my father-in-law the many things available that do not require real “cooking”.  We showed him items found in the frozen food section which may be cooked in the microwave, we pointed out the advantages of cold cereal, instant oatmeal, waffles that heat in the toaster, cold cuts, nutritious bread, and we taught him how to make hot dogs, which he loves, in the microwave. 

After food shopping, we returned to their apartment building, and that is where I viewed a great, life-affirming, hilarious situation!   My husband was parking the car and I was walking up to the apartment with my in-laws.  The hallways are long and wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side easily.  However, my father-in-law was zooming ahead with his walker – he really moves with that thing!  My mother-in-law and I were strolling not too quickly about 20 feet behind him, she leaning on her cane and favoring a toe that was throbbing. 

An elderly woman in a scooter was blocking the hallway as she was speaking with another elderly woman who had the door open to her apartment.  They were chatting away, oblivious to the traffic jam the scooter was causing.  My father-in-law could not get by with his walker and so he nicely said, “Mind if I wiggle by?” to the woman.  That was when they both looked over and noticed him.  (They did not notice my mother-in-law and I still way behind him.)

The woman in the scooter gave him a sly look and said, “You can wiggle by us anytime”!  The woman in the doorway agreed and added, “We like to watch you wiggle!” 

I was floored! I tried not to laugh, but it was simply hysterical and uplifting at the same time!  Here were two women who had to be in their late 80’s flirting with a man “zooming” using his walker!

My mother-in-law didn’t notice the exchange and I didn’t mention it to her.  The women did finally notice us; the woman in the doorway blushed profusely when our eyes met.  I just smiled.

On the ride home, I told my husband what happened in the hallway and he was shocked!  His reaction made me laugh!

Life is to be lived and enjoyed and I applaud these women for their spunk!  My father-in-law was oblivious to their remarks as he is trying so hard just to hold things together.  But the women proved to me that where there’s life, there’s hope.  That we may age, if we’re lucky, but we don’t have to get old.

So, go out there and enjoy!  If you’re young, appreciate it.  If you’re healthy, no matter what your age, revel in it! 

Hope your day is full of life and happy experiences, even in the oddest of circumstances...maybe especially in the oddest of circumstances!!

Small Actions, Unexpected Results

(Popcorn taking a nap)

It’s nasty outside.  The rain has been coming down since last night and, according to all weather reports, it will continue through this evening.  We are lucky that it is not snow, after all, it’s January, but the cold chilly dampness is seeping into everything.  As I am sitting here typing I have a throw blanket across my legs.  The house just won’t warm up.  There are snow showers predicted for this weekend and that reality makes me feel extremely thankful we enjoyed the wonderful weather we did last weekend for my nephew’s wedding.

I am scheduled to be at work much later than normal today due to inventory.  Because of this, I have the day to accomplish things around the house and relax with my daughter.  I am looking forward to spending the day this way and am very happy I don’t have to go out in this rain yet.   

Life definitely has its ups and downs.  When I think about all the things that have happened that have brought me to this point in my life, I am amazed at how unexpected results have emerged out of the most insignificant seeming decisions.  For one tiny example, I look at my dog, Popcorn.  I always had a Maltese from the time I was small.  I love the look, the actions, the cuddles and the happiness a little Maltese offers.  When I was first married, before my husband and I had children, we bought a cute little mutt, a yorkie/poodle mixture that was adorable.  Pumpkin was a happy dog and she lived a good life until the very end.  She was loved. 

It just so happens that when Pumpkin passed away, I had become very good friends with a lovely woman, Beth, who I met at the swim club, a club we only belonged to for a short time before building our own pool.  Our fast growing relationship brought lots of smiles, although the friendship only remained close for that one summer, that one brief moment in time.  All things considered, that timing was perfect.  Beth happened to own a Maltese dog that had just given birth to a litter of puppies.  Amazing.  Whoever would have thought joining a swim club would have brought our family to buying a dog?!

My husband and I had decided, after Pumpkin was no longer with us, that we would take a little break before purchasing another dog.  What is it they say about best-made plans? 

One day at the pool, Beth mentioned that she still had some puppies that she needed to find homes for, Maltese PUPPIES!!  I mentioned it to my husband and he was not completely against going to see the puppies.  I knew it was a done deal.

The four of us, my daughter, son, husband and myself got in the car and took the five-minute drive to see the puppies.  If you’ve never seen seven adorable, fluffy white balls of fur playing happily, you’ve definitely missed something special.  The puppies were mostly placed in a baby’s playpen for their own safety since they were so small.  We had absolute visions of only considering a female dog, since that was the only dog my husband and I had ever enjoyed.  We often heard horror stories of male dogs going to the bathroom on everything in the house…every sofa leg, every chair, everything!

There was one female puppy still available.  She was so cute, sitting quietly on the soft, cushiony pillow covered with pictures of dog bones.  Pictures that appeared bigger than she was!  We tried to play with her, but she wasn’t interested.  Meanwhile, a male puppy, Mr. Piggy was his name at the time, kept coming over to us. He was happy, jumpy, just too cute for words, but we kept pushing him away trying to get the female Maltese to look our way.

After about twenty minutes, Mr. Piggy kept coming at us.  I thought he was going to put on a top hat and dance with a cane trying to gain our attention.  I remember looking at my children and husband and it was as if a light bulb went off in all our heads at that same time.  Mr. Piggy it was.  HE was the puppy we were meant to adopt.

It is now fourteen years later.  Fourteen years that Popcorn, alias Mr. Piggy, has been a star member of our family.  After that summer, so many years ago, Beth and my friendship was sidetracked by life taking us in opposite directions.  Although I will always think of her fondly, for whatever reason, we were only ‘friends’ that one summer.  Fate?  Perhaps.  But, isn’t that how life works?

Had Pumpkin not passed away at that particular time, had I not known Beth at that same time, had we never joined the swim club, none of this would have happened.  Popcorn would have lived with another family and who knows if we ever would have purchased another dog?  How different would my children’s’ lives have been without such a good friend always close at hand?

I suppose all this is just to say that we never know what is in the works, what one small decision such as picking a particular table at a swim club could lead toward.  We will never know how one set of unrelated circumstances will lead us to a new, happy, previously unplanned outcome. 

Life is in motion, constant, unrelenting, motion.  As the saying goes, go with the flow…anything else is just a waste of energy and a source of frustration and aggravation.  Where we are now is where we are supposed to be, and the smallest of coincidences can lead to great results if we are just open to them.

So, be open to where life takes you today and make it a happy day!

My Nephew's Wedding

Who would have dared to imagine the beauty and the warmth of this particular January weekend?  My nephew’s wedding was held in Long Island, New York.  For about half of those attending, travel was involved and was a definite concern ahead of time.   January is usually very cold, possibly snowy or worse, icy, and usually very unpleasant in the Northeast; but this weekend was amazing.   The sun was strong and bright and the skies were clear.  It was as beautiful as January can be and the wedding followed that lead!

The parents of the groom, my brother and his wife, live in Florida, so we are not physically together as often as we would like.  After a fun, thankfully uneventful, family drive, we checked into the hotel and the excitement of being with everyone set in!  After quickly unpacking so our evening clothes would not wrinkle, we ventured down to the lobby.  The elevator doors opened and as we rounded the corner to the lobby, which was comfortably arranged with deep sofas, chairs and (unfortunately since we are Flyer fans) a constant reply of a Rangers game, I saw my brother walking towards us!  He looked wonderful! Excitement and pride filled his expression, it was a look I truly enjoy seeing on him!  We hugged tightly.

After a delicious lunch filled with wonderful food and even more wonderful conversation as more and more family arrived, we adjourned to our rooms to ‘get ready’ for the wedding!

The wedding and reception were held a short drive from the hotel.  With GPS guidance we pulled into the driveway of a building still warmly lit with beautiful holiday lights.  The structure looked straight out of a storybook.  The entryway led to a lovely chapel adorned with white, cushioned chairs and tea lights.  The soft glow was perfect and as more and more family entered, you could feel the love circulating.  The energy was palpable and the smiles reflected the feeling.

Soft music played as my handsome nephew stood with his best man at the front of the room.  Before long, after being preceded by grandmothers, a maid of honor and my brother and his wife, the bride and her dad walked down the aisle.  My nephew’s eyes smiled with a look of love and happiness.  The bride’s brother had recently become eligible to perform the ceremony just for this special occasion. There were apparently references to the television show, “LOST”, which went over my head as I never watched the series.  (When the bride’s brother referenced an island, I thought he was referring to Long Island, where we were!)  But, the ceremony was lovely and the chapel was filled with smiles when the happy couple were pronounced “Husband and Wife”! 

The reception began with a cocktail hour that offered enough food for ten affairs!  Aside from the tantalizing hors d’oeuvres that were offered by numerous waiters, there was a carving station, chicken marsala, pasta, beef wellington, fruit, cheeses, lentil salads…. I could go on and on!  Suffice it to say, it was both bountiful and beautiful! (And delicious!)

At the conclusion of the cocktail hour, we entered a beautifully lit room filled with white linen. The crystal and tea lit centerpieces provided a perfect atmosphere, a special, soft glow that illuminated the feeling of love in the room.  From salad through wedding cake the meal was beyond amazing.  The band played, the singers welcomed dancing and we certainly answered the call!  By the end of the evening, my feet were throbbing, but my heart was happy.   It had been a lovely affair. 

The wedding was perfect.  The bride and groom were visibly, deeply happy.  The mood of the affair was happy and loving with a delightful energy all its own.  Being with my family, both immediate and slightly expanded was magical and made my heart full.  Sadly, there were obvious “empty chairs” in all our minds.  My nephew and his bride left a loving note at each place setting that perfectly expressed the feeling in each of our hearts, it stated: “In Loving Memory of Joel and Scott ~ To Our Family and Friends ~ As we begin our life together, we look for ways to share our compassion with those we love most.  In lieu of a traditional wedding favor, we have made a donation in your honor to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital.  This way, our gift will not only show how much we care about you, but will also share our love with children who are battling cancer at St. Jude. We truly appreciate you being a part of our special day.”

Joel and Scott were brothers of the groom, my nephews’, who both battled cancer with everything they could.  Although they are no longer with us physically, through this note as well as through our thoughts, they were both able to be very present at the wedding.  They each would have been insanely proud and happy, and I know everyone felt their love.  I felt their smiles bright in my mind. 

My Dad, also, would have been bursting with pride, as he would have watched his grandson and his family share this happy occasion.  My brother wore our Dad’s watch in order to enable my Dad’s “hands” to remain close to his throughout the evening.

My nephew’s wedding could not have been more perfectly accomplished.  As it should be at such a special time, love was everywhere.  Even the heavens opened and the unusual warmth of the weather was a reflection of the love given by those “up there”. For all of us who attended the wedding and to you who are attending through this blog, I wish you all the continued appreciation of all those we hold close to our hearts, our family and friends who make each day special.  Life should always be valued and appreciated as it is on “special” occasions.  The beauty of the wedding between my nephew and new niece ~ that beauty, I wish extended to everyone.

Have a joyful day.  Tell those you love how much you love them and remember that everyone you encounter is loved by someone in that same way.