When Marty and I revelled over the idea of having a family, raising children, I never dreamed of all it would entail from the emotional joy and heartwrenching life experiences for them to the physical responsibility of watching a child grow and endure all of life.. Their eyes lighting up at creating new friendships while also watching their tears cascading down their cheeks after someone rejects them. I had some notions, but no one could have prepared me for what lie ahead. When all the nieces and nephews started coming along in our family, I had a meager glimpse at a parent's lack of sleep, kids' temper tantrums, occasional time outs, forever watching childrens' shows, and the inevitable trip to the Urgent Care; yet, no one truly prepared me for the "Willie Wonka" and his chocolate factory adventure that would make its debut over and over again. Parenting is one of the most rewarding vocations or gifts anyone could imagine......having children of your own............while still being the most challenging responsibility at the same time. I could write volumes on the subject of parenthood from selecting toddler beds to the options for their activities to school and all the strange happenings inbetween......no one can prepare you. No one told me how much I would worry when my children had a fever or a croupe cough. Better yet, other parents were holding out about having to collect their excrement in search of a swallowed coin or hidden item. What is that?? No one mentioned some of the peculiar words that would spring forth from such sweet lips. Yes, those sweet lips, "Out of the mouths of babes", such sweet, innocent lips. Nothing in life can shock me anymore, but there are times when I stop dead in my tracks in my household, and I wonder what the heck is that? Where did that come from?? Whose child is this??? Is God playing a joke on me???? Of course, I wouldn't change any of it; taking the good with the bad.
Recently, it was brought to my attention that my 8-year old neice, Maria, was repeating this phrase, "Fire in the hole," over and over again. Her daddy, Frank, asked her what that meant, and in an hysterical tone she said, "You know, daddy, like farts."
Trust me when I say that that is one of those words that sends shivers up my spine.....I think it all goes back to my childhood. Yes, I'll blame this one on my parents. Going as far back as I can remember, we weren't allowed to use that word in our house. God forbid if we ever let one go ALOUD, but I always felt that we were not supposed to let bodily functions be recognized, especially WIND being brought to the attention of anyone around you. Furthemore, God forbid if you did LET IT GO, with sound, you better apologize profusely with an "excuse me." Now, I could be exaggerating a bit, but believe me when I say that that word growing up was not supposed to be mentioned in our house. In my house now, we refer to it as......... GAS. Whatever your take is on the subject, that's where I stand on it, and I'll blame it on my mother who seemed to stress that point regarding certain bodily functions.
So back to my story of my lovely niece, Maria, daughter to my dear sister, Chrissy. She recently shared this phrase with her dad, and as the story goes, when he asked her where she learned this special phrase, she said.........Faith. She of course, is MY daughter, and she learned it from an ever popular television show. Let's just say it's a square cleaning item who lives in the sea. Yes, my friends, when I gave birth to a sweet little girl, she turned out to be a 7-year old sailor! Funny thing is, I think after having three children, I've learned to tune them out sometimes. Who knows how long she's been saying IT!
As I said, I could write volumes on the funny things that kids say. Nothing surprises me anymore; even when I hear, "Fire in the hole!"
God has a sense of humor
Friday, January 28, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
Lucy Lou
This fearless little toddler girl adorned in a pink tutu, decorative tights and light suede fashionable boots frolicks about the room with confidence and utter joy taking our breath away. No one can resist her girlish grin that beams from ear to ear, favoring her daddy's looks with a hidden hint of her mother's beauty and devilish charms. I'm speaking of my precious niece, little Lucy, who is the joy of our hearts, atleast she is in mine. I refer to her as my little Lucy Lou, as she brings so much contentment and happiness to my world. She reminds me in so many ways of my own grandma (Lou) who was so real, without facades and greeted all with honesty and friendship. That's our Lucy, one big bundle of energy, enthusiasm and curiosity. All my sadness melts away as I watch her whisp around the room, without a care in the world. She's the most fearless little two-year old that I know with her cute, reddish hair style frolicking about her. In one sense she reminds you of this tomboy who could "take down" any boy her own size and larger; yet, at the same time she tilts her head and nudges her little face into the corners of your arms, cradling your soul, my soul like a vulnerable little baby. She goes about her daily business like a teacher tending to her classroom, making sure we all know where we need to be and what we should be doing. I thank God for all the joy she has brought into our lives.
During a time in our lives when everything seemed uncertain and frightening caring for our dear Chrissy during her cancer battle; Lucy's presence into this world was a God send, atleast she has been for me. Shortly after her birth, within hours, I knew how much she would mean to this family. When despair seemed to creep in, my little Lucy Lou swept me away to place of lollipops, sugar cubes and hope of a better place. She is vivacious, daring, devilish and fearless all rolled into one with a cute, sassy edge. She shared her strength with me on days when fear was my enemy. When I didn't want to travel this journey with my sister, Lucy's eyes opened my eyes. If she's not afraid, I thought to myself, why should I be? I vividly remember her crawling into Chrissy's arms as she made her way up to my sister's face, and what happiness she gave my sister, if only for 11 months of her life. Lucy brought shear bliss to my sister, and she never refused her tumbling pounces upon her bed. Chrissy seemed to be the calm when Lucy was restless, and we used to call her the Baby Whisperer when Lucy would fall fast asleep in her arms. It was heartwrenching for my niece, Cassie, who felt the emotions of Lucy not remembering her as she grew older. She would only be a distant dream in Lucy's mind, and she wouldn't know the Aunt Chrissy as Cassie had known her. It tore at your heart strings watching the two of them interact, Lucy with her high pitched screams playing innocently with her Great Aunt Chrissy on her bed. This miracle child, one who shares the same birthday as my sister, Deni, made some of those days bearable.
I remember on the eve of her birth, gathering in Cassie's hospital room as she battled the onset of labor. So many things were up in the air for us, awaiting Chrissy's test result from the new found lump and wondering when this child would make her presence known. When was this child going to arrive? So many false alarms and bedrest issues for Cassie, so many uncertainties. You wouldn't have known that Chrissy was afraid with the smile she put out there. When asked if she knew of her test results yet, Chrissy quickly changed the subject and focused on Cassie's health instead. We were laughing, supporting one another, eating and wondering if our precious new arrival would ever come. After many months of intensive preparation, awaiting this bundle of joy, we were still unsure......unsure of so many things. The minutes, the hours ticked away, and still no Lucy......not yet. We departed the hospital still wondering. Life's timing isn't up to us, is it? There seems to be a greater power at hand, and that revelation will come in its own time, that I've learned.
That day came, the following morning when Chrissy called saying that soon after we left, Cassie's doctor had ordered a C-section immediately given the circumstances of her pregnancy. Our precious little Lucy was born, reddish hair, a huge smile and all was good, all were healthy and resting. Feeling the excitement of this new addition to our family; I felt as though nothing could go wrong. I was so excited that another baby had been born into our family. I hurried to get my kids ready, as they all began their morning routines, getting dressed for school, eating their breakfast and "eagerly" going to school. My plans were to welcome that new baby with my daughter, Faith. At that time, Faith went to afternoon Kindergarten so she was still at home with me. She ate her pancakes and eased herself slowly in front of the morning television routines of watching Dora and Seseme Street as I was about to prepare my breakfast and get myself ready. Shortly after 9:00 a.m. the phone rang again. It was my sister, Chrissy, and even before she spoke I sensed that something was wrong. How is it that we sense that in a telephone call before any words are spoken? I don't remember her saying "hello" but I do remember her speaking with a firm, soft tone.
"I have to tell you something like ripping off a bandaid, okay."
"Okay," I replied.
"They just called about my test results, and the cancer has returned, and they say it's in my liver. I gotta go now."
I remember telling her that I was sorry and that I loved her. All I heard was a click, and she was gone, her voice, our lives as they once were......all of it was gone.
My mood that morning after hearing the news of Lucy was one of elation and relief that all was good for my niece......all was good for us. How is it that life changes so quickly? In a flash, my life had changed course. In that moment, my hopes, our hopes, had all vanished as we had thought. I knew, given her type of cancer, the immediate onset of its return..........I knew what this meant. I can only say that the morning, my day and night were spent with tears. Faith knew, too, that something was terribly wrong as I locked my bedroom door and fell to the floor. How could this happen? This wasn't supposed to happen as tears and gutteral screams poured from the deepest part of my soul.
That 20th day of January in 2009 was one of the best and worst days of my life. Some might say the passing of my sister, that day was the worst, but for me it was when my visions of growing old with my sister had vanished. That thought was only a dream, a hope, a prayerful daily request......that's when my life had changed forever. Don't think of me as naive, but for some reason I took this thought of growing old with my younger sister as a given. It never occured to me that she wouldn't grow old with me.....not until that day. My parents were taken way too early in my life; there's no way my Chrissy would be taken, too. There's no way. I know life is filled with constant change, but this never really entered my mind. How could a young mother be taken from her children who needed her so much? Why her? Why not someone else? Why not me? As the day's events unfolded only two years ago, it was one of the most difficult days of my life, processing this heartwrenching news. My eyes had swollen shut, and thankfully for dark hospital rooms and sunglasses that day, I was able to sneak a peak at baby Lucy without Cassie or Kyle knowing the day's latest news. I didn't want to turn their joy into worries and fears. I wanted them to be in the moment of life, love and peace.
Today as we gathered at Lucy's second birthday party, my heart still aches for my sister's presence, and this month is filled with mixed emotions. Part of me is so grateful for the gift of this miracle child who showed us hope and life during my sister's cancer journey while another part of me remembers the painful phone call from my sissy that day. She was able to comfort me that day, as we embraced each other, and she said, "For today we will cry, but tomorrow's a new day." I'll take her advice and remember that for today, this moment, I may feel sad but tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow is a new day for our Lucy, too, as she walks with a playful, hopeful demeanor. Her early memories may fade of that calming whisperer she once met, but I will remind her as I always do when I whisper in her ear, Aunt Chrissy loves you, Lucy Lou, Aunt Chrissy loves you."
During a time in our lives when everything seemed uncertain and frightening caring for our dear Chrissy during her cancer battle; Lucy's presence into this world was a God send, atleast she has been for me. Shortly after her birth, within hours, I knew how much she would mean to this family. When despair seemed to creep in, my little Lucy Lou swept me away to place of lollipops, sugar cubes and hope of a better place. She is vivacious, daring, devilish and fearless all rolled into one with a cute, sassy edge. She shared her strength with me on days when fear was my enemy. When I didn't want to travel this journey with my sister, Lucy's eyes opened my eyes. If she's not afraid, I thought to myself, why should I be? I vividly remember her crawling into Chrissy's arms as she made her way up to my sister's face, and what happiness she gave my sister, if only for 11 months of her life. Lucy brought shear bliss to my sister, and she never refused her tumbling pounces upon her bed. Chrissy seemed to be the calm when Lucy was restless, and we used to call her the Baby Whisperer when Lucy would fall fast asleep in her arms. It was heartwrenching for my niece, Cassie, who felt the emotions of Lucy not remembering her as she grew older. She would only be a distant dream in Lucy's mind, and she wouldn't know the Aunt Chrissy as Cassie had known her. It tore at your heart strings watching the two of them interact, Lucy with her high pitched screams playing innocently with her Great Aunt Chrissy on her bed. This miracle child, one who shares the same birthday as my sister, Deni, made some of those days bearable.
I remember on the eve of her birth, gathering in Cassie's hospital room as she battled the onset of labor. So many things were up in the air for us, awaiting Chrissy's test result from the new found lump and wondering when this child would make her presence known. When was this child going to arrive? So many false alarms and bedrest issues for Cassie, so many uncertainties. You wouldn't have known that Chrissy was afraid with the smile she put out there. When asked if she knew of her test results yet, Chrissy quickly changed the subject and focused on Cassie's health instead. We were laughing, supporting one another, eating and wondering if our precious new arrival would ever come. After many months of intensive preparation, awaiting this bundle of joy, we were still unsure......unsure of so many things. The minutes, the hours ticked away, and still no Lucy......not yet. We departed the hospital still wondering. Life's timing isn't up to us, is it? There seems to be a greater power at hand, and that revelation will come in its own time, that I've learned.
That day came, the following morning when Chrissy called saying that soon after we left, Cassie's doctor had ordered a C-section immediately given the circumstances of her pregnancy. Our precious little Lucy was born, reddish hair, a huge smile and all was good, all were healthy and resting. Feeling the excitement of this new addition to our family; I felt as though nothing could go wrong. I was so excited that another baby had been born into our family. I hurried to get my kids ready, as they all began their morning routines, getting dressed for school, eating their breakfast and "eagerly" going to school. My plans were to welcome that new baby with my daughter, Faith. At that time, Faith went to afternoon Kindergarten so she was still at home with me. She ate her pancakes and eased herself slowly in front of the morning television routines of watching Dora and Seseme Street as I was about to prepare my breakfast and get myself ready. Shortly after 9:00 a.m. the phone rang again. It was my sister, Chrissy, and even before she spoke I sensed that something was wrong. How is it that we sense that in a telephone call before any words are spoken? I don't remember her saying "hello" but I do remember her speaking with a firm, soft tone.
"I have to tell you something like ripping off a bandaid, okay."
"Okay," I replied.
"They just called about my test results, and the cancer has returned, and they say it's in my liver. I gotta go now."
I remember telling her that I was sorry and that I loved her. All I heard was a click, and she was gone, her voice, our lives as they once were......all of it was gone.
My mood that morning after hearing the news of Lucy was one of elation and relief that all was good for my niece......all was good for us. How is it that life changes so quickly? In a flash, my life had changed course. In that moment, my hopes, our hopes, had all vanished as we had thought. I knew, given her type of cancer, the immediate onset of its return..........I knew what this meant. I can only say that the morning, my day and night were spent with tears. Faith knew, too, that something was terribly wrong as I locked my bedroom door and fell to the floor. How could this happen? This wasn't supposed to happen as tears and gutteral screams poured from the deepest part of my soul.
That 20th day of January in 2009 was one of the best and worst days of my life. Some might say the passing of my sister, that day was the worst, but for me it was when my visions of growing old with my sister had vanished. That thought was only a dream, a hope, a prayerful daily request......that's when my life had changed forever. Don't think of me as naive, but for some reason I took this thought of growing old with my younger sister as a given. It never occured to me that she wouldn't grow old with me.....not until that day. My parents were taken way too early in my life; there's no way my Chrissy would be taken, too. There's no way. I know life is filled with constant change, but this never really entered my mind. How could a young mother be taken from her children who needed her so much? Why her? Why not someone else? Why not me? As the day's events unfolded only two years ago, it was one of the most difficult days of my life, processing this heartwrenching news. My eyes had swollen shut, and thankfully for dark hospital rooms and sunglasses that day, I was able to sneak a peak at baby Lucy without Cassie or Kyle knowing the day's latest news. I didn't want to turn their joy into worries and fears. I wanted them to be in the moment of life, love and peace.
Today as we gathered at Lucy's second birthday party, my heart still aches for my sister's presence, and this month is filled with mixed emotions. Part of me is so grateful for the gift of this miracle child who showed us hope and life during my sister's cancer journey while another part of me remembers the painful phone call from my sissy that day. She was able to comfort me that day, as we embraced each other, and she said, "For today we will cry, but tomorrow's a new day." I'll take her advice and remember that for today, this moment, I may feel sad but tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow is a new day for our Lucy, too, as she walks with a playful, hopeful demeanor. Her early memories may fade of that calming whisperer she once met, but I will remind her as I always do when I whisper in her ear, Aunt Chrissy loves you, Lucy Lou, Aunt Chrissy loves you."
Friday, January 14, 2011
The Ordinary Can Be Extraordinary
I watched my little Faith sleep beside me, her breaths moving gently in and out, her pouty lips looking so naive, her arms wrapped around her blanket like a mother bear cradling her cub. It's all so ordinary, but it's extraordinary at the same time. I cherish those moments! She's done it for seven plus years on this earth of ours, and I never tire of seeing it, watching her sleep. As long as I can keep my weary eyes open, I look upon her, because one day she will not be here. Whether she's heading off to a job or school, attending a sleepover party, going off to college, marrying her love or even passing on to her new life......one day this special time will be gone, only a tender memory. I don't know what God has planned for my Faith, but I know this time will not last forever. Nothing in this life does, that I know. I have all sorts of hopes and dreams for my precious little Faith, but I've learned life changes in a split second. So here I am, gazing at every crevice of her little face, every breath. It all seems so ordinary but for me, it's extraordinary. Here I am beside her, watching and knowing and thanking the one above for all that I have.....especially this moment, watching my baby sleep. I can't say what a grieving mother feels, I can only imagine what a mother's heart might feel, and I can't bear to think of it. It is only known to those who live it, and I've heard that they don't wish that journey on anyone. Lessons of life and new awakenings are learned, but I bet any parent would never want or wish that loss on anyone.
Lucy spent the night in Faith's room last week, so there we were, mother and daughter, me watching her so intently. This child of mine speaks almost nonstop in her waking moments so I truly cherish these quiet times. The waking hours are ordinary, too, as she tells me every last detail of her day, her TV shows, the books she's read or the friends she played with that day. I didn't want my Faith to wake little Lucy during the night, as she makes her way to our bedroom, as it's a time in her life where monsters enter her dreams, so I am not surprised by her visits during the night. There we were, the two of us, mother and daughter,simple and ordinary, but it's one of the best experiences of a mother, watching your child relax and breathe in the night.
I'm trying to make my life simpler in a generation where success is measured by careers, extra curricular activities, awards or how much you can accomplish in a day's time. Those things aren't important to me anymore, but I do care about my sanity and the ease of my homelife, the stress level of my kids, and the support needed by my husband. All those are priorities to me, not the sports or activities, not even their academics. I do support and hope they will try their best in school, but their overall happiness and self-confidence are most important to me. My hopes for my children are to have faith in the one above who will strengthen and guide them no matter what. I want them to trust their gut, live with passion for what's truly important, and live with the simpler gifts in mind.
The ordinary can be extraordinary when we all sit together as a family sharing a meal, which we're able to do on most nights . Life seems to spin out of control at times with time commitments, school meetings, activities and such, but I try to take breaths inbetween and appreciate the ordinary. Peace and being present, knowing what exists around you rather than existing in time, faster and faster, always doing. I can't stand that pace, and sometimes it's required, but I still don't like it. What's truly important? Choose what's important to you, not what you think you should be doing by other people's standards. Do you pay attention to the skies, the blooming flowers, a fall breeze or the comfort of a warm coat? Do you pay attention to the smiling baby or even the smiling son or daughter who lives in your house? Do you ever watch your children sleep, wondering where all their energy resides while they lay so peacefully? Are you noticing the signs of God's presence amongst you, those little nudges from strangers who might need a listening ear? Do you stop and take pause in the ordinary or do you always have to be moving, moving, moving?
In this world where success is often measured in dollars, awards or professions; I find it's an uphill battle at times, trying live an ordinary life that can be so extraordinary. When I'm asked, "What are your plans, you know, like a real job? Have you tried this? or that? Did you call this person or that place?" Perhaps it appears complacent, lacking luster or drive, but for me, I'm choosing not to always be doing. In a flash, we'll ask ourselves, where did it all go? What have I accomplished in my life? I want to be able to say that I learned and saw, enjoyed the true beauties, loved, questioned and took pause, and then I saw some more. What a journey it was! How ordinary it can be and yet........EXTRAORDINARY!
Lucy spent the night in Faith's room last week, so there we were, mother and daughter, me watching her so intently. This child of mine speaks almost nonstop in her waking moments so I truly cherish these quiet times. The waking hours are ordinary, too, as she tells me every last detail of her day, her TV shows, the books she's read or the friends she played with that day. I didn't want my Faith to wake little Lucy during the night, as she makes her way to our bedroom, as it's a time in her life where monsters enter her dreams, so I am not surprised by her visits during the night. There we were, the two of us, mother and daughter,simple and ordinary, but it's one of the best experiences of a mother, watching your child relax and breathe in the night.
I'm trying to make my life simpler in a generation where success is measured by careers, extra curricular activities, awards or how much you can accomplish in a day's time. Those things aren't important to me anymore, but I do care about my sanity and the ease of my homelife, the stress level of my kids, and the support needed by my husband. All those are priorities to me, not the sports or activities, not even their academics. I do support and hope they will try their best in school, but their overall happiness and self-confidence are most important to me. My hopes for my children are to have faith in the one above who will strengthen and guide them no matter what. I want them to trust their gut, live with passion for what's truly important, and live with the simpler gifts in mind.
The ordinary can be extraordinary when we all sit together as a family sharing a meal, which we're able to do on most nights . Life seems to spin out of control at times with time commitments, school meetings, activities and such, but I try to take breaths inbetween and appreciate the ordinary. Peace and being present, knowing what exists around you rather than existing in time, faster and faster, always doing. I can't stand that pace, and sometimes it's required, but I still don't like it. What's truly important? Choose what's important to you, not what you think you should be doing by other people's standards. Do you pay attention to the skies, the blooming flowers, a fall breeze or the comfort of a warm coat? Do you pay attention to the smiling baby or even the smiling son or daughter who lives in your house? Do you ever watch your children sleep, wondering where all their energy resides while they lay so peacefully? Are you noticing the signs of God's presence amongst you, those little nudges from strangers who might need a listening ear? Do you stop and take pause in the ordinary or do you always have to be moving, moving, moving?
In this world where success is often measured in dollars, awards or professions; I find it's an uphill battle at times, trying live an ordinary life that can be so extraordinary. When I'm asked, "What are your plans, you know, like a real job? Have you tried this? or that? Did you call this person or that place?" Perhaps it appears complacent, lacking luster or drive, but for me, I'm choosing not to always be doing. In a flash, we'll ask ourselves, where did it all go? What have I accomplished in my life? I want to be able to say that I learned and saw, enjoyed the true beauties, loved, questioned and took pause, and then I saw some more. What a journey it was! How ordinary it can be and yet........EXTRAORDINARY!
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
The Quilts
I've said it many times over as I click the keys on my keyboard that interventions from my sister, from my angels, from my God are there all the time. Sometimes more recognizable than other days. I feel her presence so much these days; Chrissy is here beside me to answer my questions, to guide me, to comfort me in the loneliness I feel. I miss her so terribly....her laughing....our talking.....both of us making our plans.....talking about our kids. The "what could bes" and the "what we wished fors" are so different for me these days. That doesn't mean I don't feel her in my heart urging me to seize the day even when my heart says that I don't feel like it.
It happened, and I was only thinking of it days before: how I wanted to have quilts made for the kids with her photos and with material from her clothing. Perhaps it was sparked by my rummaging through our winter clothing as we got ready for the cold weather or maybe it's because of reliving those days in November and December when we learned that there was nothing more medically that could stop the beast in its tracks. As I searched through all of our clothing for the winter months, I came across the two black bags. These two black bags saved from Chrissy's personal belongings after her death; clothing that seemed to be an extention of her. Clothes she wore often, perhaps of their comfort, we know the ones. We all wear certain clothes often because they're the most comfortable, and that's why I saved them. They sat in my basement as reminders of her. We can't hold onto their bodies; yet, somehow we hold onto these remnants of their personal belongings as reminders of them. I thought perhaps one day I would pass them onto her children or have stuffed animals made with them. It was too difficult to deal with shortly after her death so they sat. We do this, we grieving people, as a way of holding onto their memory. We can feel their presence in the physical items and her perfume resonates amongst some of her clothing. Maybe it's in my imagination, feeling as though she's in the scent of her clothing, as I dream of having her right next to me again.
When I came across these items one day, I thought it would be wonderful......wouldn't it be wonderful if I could gather these pieces of material and somehow have quilts made for her Frankie and Maria. Who would I ask? Where would I go? All my thoughts and questions seemed too much of an undertaking as the time grew closer to the year anniversary of her passing back in December. It seemed like a good idea; yet, exhausting at the same time thinking of all the details to collect and sort. It would be healing to the soul while at the same time the memories would be painful.....thinking of what she was going through only a year ago. So there my mind was, back in November, thinking of taking on this project someday.
Only a few day later, I arrived at Frank's house to take Maria to her swimming class. There in his driveway was an unfamiliar car, a woman who was talking with Frank. I made my way to the driveway, and was going sneak inside to visit with the kids, when Frank motioned me over. As I approached, this person seemed familiar, but I couldn't place the face or the time when we had met. I thought perhaps that it might be a mother to one of Maria or Frankie's school friends. She looked at me and said, "hello", as she held something in her hands. I didn't really pay attention to it until she continued to tell Frank that some of us moms would like to make quilts for Frankie and Maria. Chills ran down my spine, and I smiled, because I knew Chrissy had intervened. Only days before while rummaging through her clothing did this idea cross my mind, but I felt too emotionally exhausted to take on the project. She went on to explain to Frank what she would need and asked for his permission to go forward with their idea in making these lovely quilts for Chrissy's children. At that moment, the skies seemed to open, and I felt my sister's arms wrapped around me. I wanted to jump up and down because it was exactly what I wanted for her children, but it seemed like such a huge undertaking. I asked her name, and then she said we've met before. "Maybe you don't remember, but I was the one who came up to you at the school Valentine Party last year and asked if you were Chrissy's sister."
Again, I felt the chills travel from the tip of my head to the tip of my toes. "Oh yes, I do remember," I said. (it gets even better) In my mind, I did remember this lady who tapped me on the shoulder last year in February, as I followed Frankie and Maria around in their school gym trying to contain my emotions. I wasn't up for idle chit chat so I kept my mind focused on the kids, and I didn't greet anyone with eye contact. All the while there, I was thinking that Chrissy should be the one here for their school parties, but they would have to settle for me. It was at that moment when this woman tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I was Chrissy's sister. I replied with a "yes", and she answered back, "I thought you were, and I have chills now. I loved your sister, and I have read your words on the Caringbridge site. I'm so happy to finally meet you." We stood there in the middle of this gym, and I knew she knew what I was feeling. It brought me some relief knowing I wasn't alone in my emotions, and I smiled and thanked her for coming up to me. I'm sorry to say that didn't remember her name, but I remember my emotions at that time, Chrissy making her presence known to me. This stranger in a crowd of parents and teachers brought me comfort in her words by knowing my sister and telling me how much she adored her. She paid her respects to me again, and continued to say how happy she was to have met me.
It's those pivotal moments, kind words during a grieving time that can help you through difficult days. Personal comments, inspiring words, prayerful support, random thoughts of support in a special card are what helped me and still give me comfort. The simplest words sent in a card for no reason at all but to say, "Please know that I'm thinking of you, and I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing."
When you're not sure of what to do or say when someone is experiencing loss......say those words or send a card as I have mentioned. They are food for the soul, and I can think of many of you: friends of mine or my sisters, strangers who poured out their support in such simple words. As I thought and awaited the quilts that were to be a SURPRISE for these children.....I am reminded yet again that she is present. It's like getting a phone call from a friend that you've been thinking of on a certain day. They call for no reason but to say that I've been thinking of you. Strange, isn't it? Call it what you will, but I don't believe in coincidences. I believe in what's real, and that she's still with me. I longed to see them, these quilts which were tangible reminders of her personality, her comfortable clothing, familiar clothing to me, but I chose to view them on New Year's Eve and not a day sooner. It was implanted in my mind to start the New Year with all that encompassed her, memories in these patches of clothing and copied photos. That minute arrived where I unfolded them, and I was speechless for the first few minutes as my hands caressed each thread of these loving quilts. I can't put into perfect words, but it seemed as though I found myself in each place of that quilt. Pivotal photos of her with Maria and Frankie that they will cherish more in the years to come. It's inevitible that memories of their mom will fade, they're much too young to remember it all. Perhaps their young minds will need to let go of some of her in order to process the enormity of losing a mother at such a young age. Those quilts are another reminder to me of who she was and how much I loved her and still do. Those quilts will be a constant reminder to Maria and Frankie as they grow and wrap themselves in their warmth, her warmth, a mother's love. Thank you to those special moms, Laura and Erika, whose act of kindness made a huge impact. If anyone else was involved in the making of these quilts, I want to thank you as well. As mom used to say, "Your rewards will come in heaven."
"No act of kindness is too small or goes unnoticed"
It happened, and I was only thinking of it days before: how I wanted to have quilts made for the kids with her photos and with material from her clothing. Perhaps it was sparked by my rummaging through our winter clothing as we got ready for the cold weather or maybe it's because of reliving those days in November and December when we learned that there was nothing more medically that could stop the beast in its tracks. As I searched through all of our clothing for the winter months, I came across the two black bags. These two black bags saved from Chrissy's personal belongings after her death; clothing that seemed to be an extention of her. Clothes she wore often, perhaps of their comfort, we know the ones. We all wear certain clothes often because they're the most comfortable, and that's why I saved them. They sat in my basement as reminders of her. We can't hold onto their bodies; yet, somehow we hold onto these remnants of their personal belongings as reminders of them. I thought perhaps one day I would pass them onto her children or have stuffed animals made with them. It was too difficult to deal with shortly after her death so they sat. We do this, we grieving people, as a way of holding onto their memory. We can feel their presence in the physical items and her perfume resonates amongst some of her clothing. Maybe it's in my imagination, feeling as though she's in the scent of her clothing, as I dream of having her right next to me again.
When I came across these items one day, I thought it would be wonderful......wouldn't it be wonderful if I could gather these pieces of material and somehow have quilts made for her Frankie and Maria. Who would I ask? Where would I go? All my thoughts and questions seemed too much of an undertaking as the time grew closer to the year anniversary of her passing back in December. It seemed like a good idea; yet, exhausting at the same time thinking of all the details to collect and sort. It would be healing to the soul while at the same time the memories would be painful.....thinking of what she was going through only a year ago. So there my mind was, back in November, thinking of taking on this project someday.
Only a few day later, I arrived at Frank's house to take Maria to her swimming class. There in his driveway was an unfamiliar car, a woman who was talking with Frank. I made my way to the driveway, and was going sneak inside to visit with the kids, when Frank motioned me over. As I approached, this person seemed familiar, but I couldn't place the face or the time when we had met. I thought perhaps that it might be a mother to one of Maria or Frankie's school friends. She looked at me and said, "hello", as she held something in her hands. I didn't really pay attention to it until she continued to tell Frank that some of us moms would like to make quilts for Frankie and Maria. Chills ran down my spine, and I smiled, because I knew Chrissy had intervened. Only days before while rummaging through her clothing did this idea cross my mind, but I felt too emotionally exhausted to take on the project. She went on to explain to Frank what she would need and asked for his permission to go forward with their idea in making these lovely quilts for Chrissy's children. At that moment, the skies seemed to open, and I felt my sister's arms wrapped around me. I wanted to jump up and down because it was exactly what I wanted for her children, but it seemed like such a huge undertaking. I asked her name, and then she said we've met before. "Maybe you don't remember, but I was the one who came up to you at the school Valentine Party last year and asked if you were Chrissy's sister."
Again, I felt the chills travel from the tip of my head to the tip of my toes. "Oh yes, I do remember," I said. (it gets even better) In my mind, I did remember this lady who tapped me on the shoulder last year in February, as I followed Frankie and Maria around in their school gym trying to contain my emotions. I wasn't up for idle chit chat so I kept my mind focused on the kids, and I didn't greet anyone with eye contact. All the while there, I was thinking that Chrissy should be the one here for their school parties, but they would have to settle for me. It was at that moment when this woman tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I was Chrissy's sister. I replied with a "yes", and she answered back, "I thought you were, and I have chills now. I loved your sister, and I have read your words on the Caringbridge site. I'm so happy to finally meet you." We stood there in the middle of this gym, and I knew she knew what I was feeling. It brought me some relief knowing I wasn't alone in my emotions, and I smiled and thanked her for coming up to me. I'm sorry to say that didn't remember her name, but I remember my emotions at that time, Chrissy making her presence known to me. This stranger in a crowd of parents and teachers brought me comfort in her words by knowing my sister and telling me how much she adored her. She paid her respects to me again, and continued to say how happy she was to have met me.
It's those pivotal moments, kind words during a grieving time that can help you through difficult days. Personal comments, inspiring words, prayerful support, random thoughts of support in a special card are what helped me and still give me comfort. The simplest words sent in a card for no reason at all but to say, "Please know that I'm thinking of you, and I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing."
When you're not sure of what to do or say when someone is experiencing loss......say those words or send a card as I have mentioned. They are food for the soul, and I can think of many of you: friends of mine or my sisters, strangers who poured out their support in such simple words. As I thought and awaited the quilts that were to be a SURPRISE for these children.....I am reminded yet again that she is present. It's like getting a phone call from a friend that you've been thinking of on a certain day. They call for no reason but to say that I've been thinking of you. Strange, isn't it? Call it what you will, but I don't believe in coincidences. I believe in what's real, and that she's still with me. I longed to see them, these quilts which were tangible reminders of her personality, her comfortable clothing, familiar clothing to me, but I chose to view them on New Year's Eve and not a day sooner. It was implanted in my mind to start the New Year with all that encompassed her, memories in these patches of clothing and copied photos. That minute arrived where I unfolded them, and I was speechless for the first few minutes as my hands caressed each thread of these loving quilts. I can't put into perfect words, but it seemed as though I found myself in each place of that quilt. Pivotal photos of her with Maria and Frankie that they will cherish more in the years to come. It's inevitible that memories of their mom will fade, they're much too young to remember it all. Perhaps their young minds will need to let go of some of her in order to process the enormity of losing a mother at such a young age. Those quilts are another reminder to me of who she was and how much I loved her and still do. Those quilts will be a constant reminder to Maria and Frankie as they grow and wrap themselves in their warmth, her warmth, a mother's love. Thank you to those special moms, Laura and Erika, whose act of kindness made a huge impact. If anyone else was involved in the making of these quilts, I want to thank you as well. As mom used to say, "Your rewards will come in heaven."
"No act of kindness is too small or goes unnoticed"
Thursday, January 6, 2011
I Don't Want to Get Rid of My Comfy Shoes
Who here hasn't had a pair of comfy shoes that they didn't want to release? Perhaps your pair of comfy shoes might be a ragged stuffed toy, worn and torn sweat pants or dated jeans? Each of my children has had and have items that help them sleep. My Faith clings to her "Phoebe" (a little stuffed dog), Luke clings to a special blanket since he had since birth (which by the way he released later this past year by choice), and Eric has his rain or ocean sounds that help him to sleep. In fact, all of my kids have noise echoing from their rooms every night. Marty and I laugh as to how anyone can sleep in this house with all the white noise. We truly cling to them because they bring us comfort. Some of us hang on to our comfy shoes like we hang onto our grief. We don't want to let it go, and that's okay. Because if we let go of all the grief, and "move forward" as some people say, then we let go of our loved ones who have passed. Grief doesn't mean that we are curled up in the corners of our room crying uncontrolably all the time. Some moments are like that, but mostly grief is remembering our loved ones in the way that keeps us living, feeling the anguish, growing and learning about our soul. We'll never let go of all of it, and for some of us, we must hang on to it like we hang onto our comfy shoes.
Lately, I've come to the realization that if I release all my grief, let it go, as some would suggest, then I would have to release all of my sister, my parents, my grandparents and so forth. With this New Year of 2011, I was inclined to set some goals. I am not the person who makes a New Year's Resolution set in stone and sticks to it. Generally, I put thoughts in the back of my mind of what I would LIKE to accomplish, but I never engrave it in stone. I am somewhat of a rule follower, but on the flip side, I don't like to make too many rules or keep those time commitments. Life changes in a flash, and for me, I've learned that time commitments are too confining. With this new year, though, I wanted to set some goals for myself that may not be very time specific, but they are goals.
Our parish priest talked about the family last week in his homily, and it struck a chord. During one of our family dinners, I decided to ask our kids about their wishes for the new year. With that being said, my Marty typed out a detailed list of his goals in all areas of his life from professional, to faith, to family and so much more. I commend him for his efforts, and I especiallly liked his goals pertaining to me, his wife. That's what inclined me to write some of my own goals and intentionally try to live by them.
Be more positive
Smile and mean it
Pray for those who hurt me
Love my children more
Question God less
Love my husband for the man he is
Love myself for who I am
Be present and listen for direction
You all can imagine that the one about Marty puzzled him. So for the record, what I meant is that when he doesn't do everything that I think he should, according to me.....I'm not going to make a comment about it. Of course, I'll still make some wise cracks at times. That's what sparks our marriage and why we love each other so much. Intentionally, I'm not going to go straight for his jugular, hurting his male ego. I think most women know what I mean by this.
At the start of my website last March, I mentioned that I would keep it real. My hope for this new year is to continue to keep it real. If I have to say it aloud, shout it to the mountains, read this list everyday; I will try to keep it real in my life and encourage others to do the same. I need my comfy shoes to ease the burdens of life, but I will also buy new ones. Try it for yourself. What are your comfy shoes? What will you keep and what will you throw away?
The best way to know God is to love many things.
- Vincent Van Gogh
Lately, I've come to the realization that if I release all my grief, let it go, as some would suggest, then I would have to release all of my sister, my parents, my grandparents and so forth. With this New Year of 2011, I was inclined to set some goals. I am not the person who makes a New Year's Resolution set in stone and sticks to it. Generally, I put thoughts in the back of my mind of what I would LIKE to accomplish, but I never engrave it in stone. I am somewhat of a rule follower, but on the flip side, I don't like to make too many rules or keep those time commitments. Life changes in a flash, and for me, I've learned that time commitments are too confining. With this new year, though, I wanted to set some goals for myself that may not be very time specific, but they are goals.
Our parish priest talked about the family last week in his homily, and it struck a chord. During one of our family dinners, I decided to ask our kids about their wishes for the new year. With that being said, my Marty typed out a detailed list of his goals in all areas of his life from professional, to faith, to family and so much more. I commend him for his efforts, and I especiallly liked his goals pertaining to me, his wife. That's what inclined me to write some of my own goals and intentionally try to live by them.
Be more positive
Smile and mean it
Pray for those who hurt me
Love my children more
Question God less
Love my husband for the man he is
Love myself for who I am
Be present and listen for direction
You all can imagine that the one about Marty puzzled him. So for the record, what I meant is that when he doesn't do everything that I think he should, according to me.....I'm not going to make a comment about it. Of course, I'll still make some wise cracks at times. That's what sparks our marriage and why we love each other so much. Intentionally, I'm not going to go straight for his jugular, hurting his male ego. I think most women know what I mean by this.
At the start of my website last March, I mentioned that I would keep it real. My hope for this new year is to continue to keep it real. If I have to say it aloud, shout it to the mountains, read this list everyday; I will try to keep it real in my life and encourage others to do the same. I need my comfy shoes to ease the burdens of life, but I will also buy new ones. Try it for yourself. What are your comfy shoes? What will you keep and what will you throw away?
The best way to know God is to love many things.
- Vincent Van Gogh
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