We all have to do it.......that is, if we want to be proactive about our health. A monthly thorough self breast exam and getting a yearly mammogram are a must in today's way. Last week was my time to be checked as all of us need to do. It's our duty for our families, our kids and for ourselves. None of us looks forward to getting a mammogram, but it's one of those trials that are necessary. It doesn't matter whether breast cancer is or isn't in your family. The beast extends its reach to all facets of life - rich, poor, African American, Caucasian, Hispanic, Asian, mature women, young women, full-figured and slender ones, too. There is no discrimination to who this disease touches. Please make those appointments!
I found myself in sort of a weepy mood as all these routines seemed somewhat familiar as I entered the new doors of a breast cancer center only a few minutes from my home. The serene piano was playing, friendly faces greeting me as I entered the door, feelings of awkwardness.....it was an all too familiar scene.....one that brought me back to those visits with Chrissy and her chemo treatments. All sorts of thoughts played through my mind. Thinking about my sissy, her appointments, the waiting, the blood draws.......all that went with our journey was reminiscent in my mind with each part of the process. I sat there patiently as they asked all the same questions that I answered on the phone. Perhaps going over the details with a fine tooth comb is the process, but it was making me more anxious with each question. There has to be an easier, a more efficient, subtle way, other than asking the same questions repeatedly.
As I was being directed to that place, the room with the closet where you put on the hospital gown so that they can prop and pose your breasts in all sorts of directions, my heart began to race. "Oh please, get this over quickly", I whispered to myself. My heart is beating through my chest as I exchange my shirt for the gown with the open tied front. I try to think of a funny joke so that I don't let the tears that I'm holding in my throat begin to burst forward. "Take a deep breath"......."Be a big girl" (Chrissy's phrase)........"Focus on right here in the moment" I tell myself. After five minutes or so, which seemed like half an hour, here walks out a smiling, friendly sort of woman. She directs me to the dungeon and asks a "How are you today? Come right through here." As she situates herself behind the lens, she begins to ask me a few more questions and then IT IS asked, "Has anyone in your family had breast cancer?" She said it....that question.....and now the lump is in my throat, but I hold it together. "Yes, my sister." She busies herself with the equiptment but is talking casually with such a friendly demeanor. She then asks the next dreaded question as she prepares my breast for the pancake fest. "How is your sister doing??"
I prayed for strength, and it came, without a tear I said, "She passed," I whispered. The technician replied with, "I'm so sorry, she must have been very young." Serenely I answered back with, "Yes, she was only forty-one." She continued with the pancake fest moving my puppies every which way but down to the ground. For me, it doesn't hurt as it might for some other women. It's just an awkward feeling, and I think it's different for each and every person depending on their breast size. Chrissy and I had this conversation many times because being the more endowed breast lady, I would have to say it's a bit uncomfortable because a strange woman is pressing, pulling, touching and moving your breasts every which way and then you hold your breath. How fun is that?! For my smaller breasted women friends, they have said that it hurts......perhaps smaller the size, the more painful?? Now this story gets a bit lighter......it is classic......and I know my sissy was rolling over laughing when she heard the final question from this "breast specialist" if you will. I thought our session was finished as she did her thing on both sides of my breasts, when she asked, "Can I ask you something???" My heart sank because for a split second, I thought she saw something on the photos or mammogram. She assured me that all the photos were taken okay, but she had something to ask me.
Here comes the punchline:
"Since our equipment is newer, we are trying to adjust them with just the right measurements and accuracy, and well, if you're okay with it, could I take a couple more photos because your breasts are perfect; they're perfect for making adjustments to our equipment."
Well, my friends, for those of you who have read my previous entries about breasts, you may have caught the one story when Chrissy was trying to choose a size for her new breasts, and you may have an idea of my body image regarding these 46 year old puppies. I've always wanted to get a breast reduction, and when those words passed her lips, I about lost it......but in a funny way. A smile creeped its way upon my shocked face. Who would have thought that I had the perfect boobs for mammogram photography. I replied by saying, "Are you serious......really?" She was serious and I joked that perhaps.......perhaps I could make some money by donating photos of my breasts for science research or for the cause. I truly felt like Goldilocks testing the bears' porridge, except we were talking about my.....well.....my breasts. Too big? Too small?? They're just right!
Remember to get your annual mammogram......don't put it off.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Her First Birthday
Every first without your loved one in their physical sense is emotional to say the least. So many memories of what was, what is and what is not to be. We try to think only in this moment, right here in time, because the tremendous loss can literally knock you off your feet. With that being said, though, I do stray off the path of my own advice, and that is when I find myself in trouble. I've gone "deaf" in a noisy room when the words spoken seem so trivial and insignificant. It begins to sound like the movement of a train rumbling over the tracks. I feel the rhythm of the voices, but the words permeate right through me. Sometimes I want to scream out, "Do you know that my dearest friend, my little sister, a mother of two young children has died??!" I suppose to the "talkers", what they have to say may seem important at the time, but I find myself impatient with much of today's conversations.....the phony drama that plays out and the superficial behavior from some people. It's such a waste of time! Perhaps that is why I choose my social events very carefully. I tend to avoid familiar crowds if at all possible, but I will go if it's important for me to be there. That may not make sense to some of you, but that's how I survive this. I try to go where the familiar ones truly get it. Most say that they get it, but honestly, only some do. Getting it is opening your eyes to what's around you, empathizing, listening, seeing, holding on to what's important and being true to yourself without pretense. Many go through life not really feeling; rather, they are going through the motions of life without recognizing what really IS. I told Marty the other day that I am a loose cannon......I'm afraid that I might say something shocking to someone as my filter is down. That is when I reach down deep, take a slow breath in and out and focus on the moment at hand asking God to get me there. Wherever there is.
Today, our little Miss Maria, Chrissy's baby girl celebrated her 8th birthday.......her first birthday without her mother. No big family parties today, but later in October we will celebrate, sing and gather around my sister's precious little girl. We'll smile, drink and be "merry", but our hearts will still ache without her presence......missing the direction of when to serve the food, where to open the presents and sharing the joy of this day with her daughter. I say again, it is all different, and it will happen but awkwardly. We'll get through but differently. Words aren't enough to express the immense sadness I feel for both her children when I envision their lives in a new way, without the embrace of their mother. I know how I felt when my mother passed on, and I was in my young twenties, but this little girl is only 8-years old. How can this be? There I go again questioning our higher power......one who knows more than me. Who am I to question this?
The Corrao house was decorated with balloons and colorful writings, treasures layed out to greet her in the morning. I'm sure many birthday messages were delivered throughout the day, and without a doubt she was surrounded by so much love and support, but it will never compare to her mother's touch. Today I watched her play from afar on the school playground.....she didn't know I was there. There in the midst of many second graders was a little girl, enjoying the company of her best friend, smiling; yet, I could sense her anguish as well. In the glory of her day, those near to her can feel the longing.......the longing of a little girl to make that birthday wish that wasn't going to come true except in another life. I waited for her to enter the cafeteria where we ate lunch together, and for a moment I saw a spark in her eyes, feeling utter joy, chosen as the special one in this large group of young people to be the center of attention. We ate and talked of silly bands (colorful bracelets that are like decorative rubber bands) and she pointed to some playful houses pictured on her McDonald's Happy Meal box and she commented, "This is my favorite house, which one is yours?" As I glanced at the one she pointed to, with a lump in my throat; I looked at her and answered, "That's Strawberry Shortcake's House......yes, that's my favorite, too. Do you know why?"
For those of you who remember, Strawberry Shortcake has been one of those sweet, girly characters who has been around for some thirty plus years. She happened to be a favorite character of Chrissy's when she was a little girl. I told Maria of this story and how her mother loved Strawberry Shortcake............ just as I told Chrissy I would do. She didn't want me to idolize her with her children, but I must. If I am to keep her memory alive, I must relay all those qualities about her mother along with all the mischievous ones as well. They will all be said, over time, when the moment presents itself. Maria has to know she had a mother, she was real, she had likes and dislikes and most importantly that her mother wished more than anything that she could still be here, in the sense that her children need her.
The day concluded with her attending a Cardinal's baseball game with her dad, Aunt Susie and Uncle Dave, eating nachos and buying a Build-A-Bear, which by the way, she named Chrissy. She kissed her heart, made a wish and tucked it inside her precious little bear. "It was a great day," she relayed to her loving Aunt Susie, "but it would be perfect if mom could be here, too." More words were spoken that are not meant for this page, but as the saying goes, Only from the mouths of babes. To learn, to grow, to journey for the truth; this soul will mature even through her first birthday.....September 17th.
Like entering a new country, it's going to feel strange
Today, our little Miss Maria, Chrissy's baby girl celebrated her 8th birthday.......her first birthday without her mother. No big family parties today, but later in October we will celebrate, sing and gather around my sister's precious little girl. We'll smile, drink and be "merry", but our hearts will still ache without her presence......missing the direction of when to serve the food, where to open the presents and sharing the joy of this day with her daughter. I say again, it is all different, and it will happen but awkwardly. We'll get through but differently. Words aren't enough to express the immense sadness I feel for both her children when I envision their lives in a new way, without the embrace of their mother. I know how I felt when my mother passed on, and I was in my young twenties, but this little girl is only 8-years old. How can this be? There I go again questioning our higher power......one who knows more than me. Who am I to question this?
The Corrao house was decorated with balloons and colorful writings, treasures layed out to greet her in the morning. I'm sure many birthday messages were delivered throughout the day, and without a doubt she was surrounded by so much love and support, but it will never compare to her mother's touch. Today I watched her play from afar on the school playground.....she didn't know I was there. There in the midst of many second graders was a little girl, enjoying the company of her best friend, smiling; yet, I could sense her anguish as well. In the glory of her day, those near to her can feel the longing.......the longing of a little girl to make that birthday wish that wasn't going to come true except in another life. I waited for her to enter the cafeteria where we ate lunch together, and for a moment I saw a spark in her eyes, feeling utter joy, chosen as the special one in this large group of young people to be the center of attention. We ate and talked of silly bands (colorful bracelets that are like decorative rubber bands) and she pointed to some playful houses pictured on her McDonald's Happy Meal box and she commented, "This is my favorite house, which one is yours?" As I glanced at the one she pointed to, with a lump in my throat; I looked at her and answered, "That's Strawberry Shortcake's House......yes, that's my favorite, too. Do you know why?"
For those of you who remember, Strawberry Shortcake has been one of those sweet, girly characters who has been around for some thirty plus years. She happened to be a favorite character of Chrissy's when she was a little girl. I told Maria of this story and how her mother loved Strawberry Shortcake............ just as I told Chrissy I would do. She didn't want me to idolize her with her children, but I must. If I am to keep her memory alive, I must relay all those qualities about her mother along with all the mischievous ones as well. They will all be said, over time, when the moment presents itself. Maria has to know she had a mother, she was real, she had likes and dislikes and most importantly that her mother wished more than anything that she could still be here, in the sense that her children need her.
The day concluded with her attending a Cardinal's baseball game with her dad, Aunt Susie and Uncle Dave, eating nachos and buying a Build-A-Bear, which by the way, she named Chrissy. She kissed her heart, made a wish and tucked it inside her precious little bear. "It was a great day," she relayed to her loving Aunt Susie, "but it would be perfect if mom could be here, too." More words were spoken that are not meant for this page, but as the saying goes, Only from the mouths of babes. To learn, to grow, to journey for the truth; this soul will mature even through her first birthday.....September 17th.
Like entering a new country, it's going to feel strange
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Whew, Help Me Lord!
This week began a new stepping stone in my life which was one of growth, uncertainty, excitement, fear and yes, still the grief.......it's always there. Like many others who have traveled this journey with me; the emptiness is still felt in the deepest part of my gut. Some days are doable; yet, other days I beg God to help me through.....to focus on all the good that surrounds me. This new turn in my journey.....beginning a new job.......was needed on so many different levels in my life. Given my personality, though, I still question and pose all the "what ifs". What if it's too challenging? What if I can't juggle it in my schedule? What if the children need me? What if I experience one of those moments where I think about her? What do I do then?
Those little things that use to be of importance to me, really aren't anymore, but to some people they still are. What if I look at them with disgust....with their careless, meaningless comments. I don't have patience for some of those comments anymore. What then? Do I pretend? Do I say what I'm really thinking? No I won't because they just don't know. I do not walk in their shoes just as they haven't walked in mine. Nobody knows my story here.......here in this new school. I told myself to take a deep breath, hold on and God would guide me. He wants me here right now for His own purpose. When I lay it out that way, then all my fears subside, and I put my all into it. Last week I was hired as a classroom assistant in an elementary school within our school district. It's location is within 7 minutes of our house, 15 hours a week and I am still able to run errands, volunteer in my own kids' schools and still bring home a few bucks. How much sweeter could it get? Of course, all you full-time working moms are saying, "Oh please, give me a break! Try managing a family with 40 plus hours a week." Well, I have to say, my sanity is more important to me, and I have my limits.
For those of you who are able to make it work......kuddos to you! Something tells me, though, that something has to give. I suppose you weigh what's most important, and other things fall to the wayside. I didn't and don't want that to happen with my own family. Does something have to give in order for life to move......move forward......just move? While so many others are grasping to find jobs these days; this opportunity was a God send. To make the deal even sweeter, my position is directed towards student achievement in reading and writing. For me, it's been one of the most fulfilling opportunities, other than being a mom, to watch student growth, seeing that light bulb go on. Literature, reading and writing are one of my favorite subject areas of all time! This week, I was given the chance to see how the world is moving outside of my own world, and I met some wonderful students along the way. They put smiles on my face. I look at what my family has been through these past few years.....with the waiting, the hopefulness, the disappointments, the struggles, the grief and the tears. Watching my sissy through this ordeal has been one of the toughest struggles of my life. As I figure where I go from here; I move with hesitation. There's always this thing inside me that wonders if I can ever move on from here. Of course, I know this family will never be the same. How can we? One of us isn't here. A mother isn't here to take her children to school and attend all their beautiful plays and performances. A mother is missing when it's time to read them a bedtime story or to kiss them good night. A wife isn't cooking the daily meals and offering companionship to her Frank. A sister isn't on the other end of the phone, laughing and talking into the night about all the things we use to talk about. It's all different. This week, still with butterflies in my gut, I ask God these questions: "Who is it that you want me to be? What is Your plan for my life?
The question I still ask myself is this, "Am I leaving her behind in doing this?" Am I leaving my sissy behind? I feel as though I am, and there's a pang in my gut in all this movement. Some might think that's crazy, but for those of you who have lost a loved one, you know what I mean, don't you? These recent months, I tell myself that if a job presented itself to me, then it was meant to be. God must think I'm ready, even though I feel as though I'm not. Marty can vouch for my apprehension in all this as it brought about some conflict between the two of us. I compare it to this......like going to your Ob/Gyn.........nobody wants to do it or looks forward to it......but you must. God knows we all need to go there, but none of us likes it, and we know it's for the best. This week....this job.......was for the best. I have met some people out of my circle of closeness, and perhaps one day it will feel totally comfortable. It took so much effort, and all the people I met were extremely kind, supportive and energetic. As I take new steps in a different direction, I take deep breaths and look to my Higher Power for guidance, looking for hope and strength in this new day. A new day that perhaps will lead me to greater understanding and purpose.
On this day, when so many people reminisce about their lost loved ones.....the ones who died in the 911 day of horror, I ask God this: "Help us get through the madness." For those who had a loved one die on this day nine years ago, I am so sorry for your loss. Your lives changed in the blink of an eye. Not only was it a loss for our country, but the world since then has been different. I still believe we are all lost.....hopeful.....but lost. My prayer today is to ask God to help us all make it through. To my sister, I ask for your continued spiritual guidance to help me guide your children with their loss wherever it is needed. I know you're still beside me.......
Help me know what to do, say and be in order to give You glory
Those little things that use to be of importance to me, really aren't anymore, but to some people they still are. What if I look at them with disgust....with their careless, meaningless comments. I don't have patience for some of those comments anymore. What then? Do I pretend? Do I say what I'm really thinking? No I won't because they just don't know. I do not walk in their shoes just as they haven't walked in mine. Nobody knows my story here.......here in this new school. I told myself to take a deep breath, hold on and God would guide me. He wants me here right now for His own purpose. When I lay it out that way, then all my fears subside, and I put my all into it. Last week I was hired as a classroom assistant in an elementary school within our school district. It's location is within 7 minutes of our house, 15 hours a week and I am still able to run errands, volunteer in my own kids' schools and still bring home a few bucks. How much sweeter could it get? Of course, all you full-time working moms are saying, "Oh please, give me a break! Try managing a family with 40 plus hours a week." Well, I have to say, my sanity is more important to me, and I have my limits.
For those of you who are able to make it work......kuddos to you! Something tells me, though, that something has to give. I suppose you weigh what's most important, and other things fall to the wayside. I didn't and don't want that to happen with my own family. Does something have to give in order for life to move......move forward......just move? While so many others are grasping to find jobs these days; this opportunity was a God send. To make the deal even sweeter, my position is directed towards student achievement in reading and writing. For me, it's been one of the most fulfilling opportunities, other than being a mom, to watch student growth, seeing that light bulb go on. Literature, reading and writing are one of my favorite subject areas of all time! This week, I was given the chance to see how the world is moving outside of my own world, and I met some wonderful students along the way. They put smiles on my face. I look at what my family has been through these past few years.....with the waiting, the hopefulness, the disappointments, the struggles, the grief and the tears. Watching my sissy through this ordeal has been one of the toughest struggles of my life. As I figure where I go from here; I move with hesitation. There's always this thing inside me that wonders if I can ever move on from here. Of course, I know this family will never be the same. How can we? One of us isn't here. A mother isn't here to take her children to school and attend all their beautiful plays and performances. A mother is missing when it's time to read them a bedtime story or to kiss them good night. A wife isn't cooking the daily meals and offering companionship to her Frank. A sister isn't on the other end of the phone, laughing and talking into the night about all the things we use to talk about. It's all different. This week, still with butterflies in my gut, I ask God these questions: "Who is it that you want me to be? What is Your plan for my life?
The question I still ask myself is this, "Am I leaving her behind in doing this?" Am I leaving my sissy behind? I feel as though I am, and there's a pang in my gut in all this movement. Some might think that's crazy, but for those of you who have lost a loved one, you know what I mean, don't you? These recent months, I tell myself that if a job presented itself to me, then it was meant to be. God must think I'm ready, even though I feel as though I'm not. Marty can vouch for my apprehension in all this as it brought about some conflict between the two of us. I compare it to this......like going to your Ob/Gyn.........nobody wants to do it or looks forward to it......but you must. God knows we all need to go there, but none of us likes it, and we know it's for the best. This week....this job.......was for the best. I have met some people out of my circle of closeness, and perhaps one day it will feel totally comfortable. It took so much effort, and all the people I met were extremely kind, supportive and energetic. As I take new steps in a different direction, I take deep breaths and look to my Higher Power for guidance, looking for hope and strength in this new day. A new day that perhaps will lead me to greater understanding and purpose.
On this day, when so many people reminisce about their lost loved ones.....the ones who died in the 911 day of horror, I ask God this: "Help us get through the madness." For those who had a loved one die on this day nine years ago, I am so sorry for your loss. Your lives changed in the blink of an eye. Not only was it a loss for our country, but the world since then has been different. I still believe we are all lost.....hopeful.....but lost. My prayer today is to ask God to help us all make it through. To my sister, I ask for your continued spiritual guidance to help me guide your children with their loss wherever it is needed. I know you're still beside me.......
Help me know what to do, say and be in order to give You glory
Sunday, September 5, 2010
You'll Never Know How Much She Loved You
This past Saturday, on a most beautiful, breezy, sunny, heartfelt day, I attended a funeral memorial mass for a dear friend. Her best friend since the age of two said to her children during the eulogy for her, "You'll never know how much your mother loved you until you have children of your own." I'm sure words of love were and are still exchanged often in their house, but there is a greater understanding of love when we are given the gift of children. Of course all of us love and feel love from time to time, but from a parent and more specifically a mother's perspective, we are like mother elephants as Val would say. Our friend, Patti, was a mother elephant. She not only cherished her own children, but she protected and cared for other children as if they were her own. There is no greater love than a parent to a child......in most cases that is.
That statement hits home with me as I feel it with my own children as well as with Maria and Frankie. There was never a doubt in my mind that our mom loved us..... way more than herself. In this life of ours, we go through many stages of love, certainly all dependent on our age and maturity, our aspirations, our character and most importantly our relationship life experiences. When my mother passed, I thought the world had ended and how was I to continue on in this world. I had recently graduated from college, and I didn't have a strong clue as to where I wanted to head with my life. Mom's death, certainly inevitible given her health situation; yet, it was still a shock the night it happened. Mom overcame so much physical suffering in her life; it's hard to imagine how she pulled through it all. It occurred to me when I had my own children that her perseverance was all about us. She survived as long as she did for US just as Chrissy had for her own children.
We've all heard in the newspapers and on television horrific stories of mothers killing their children, and as mothers we find it incomprehensible. How could such an offense be possible knowing what WE know and feel as mothers? A father hurting his children is outrageous, but somehow a mother doing the same is unforgiveable. As parents we always want to give more and do more for our own children. That's not to say that our parents didn't try their best. I'm sure my parents were always striving to do more for us than what they were given. My mother use to say that dad would read books on child rearing which shows me he tried. When we were young, I didn't think about the sacrifices and choices my parents had to make for us. Back then I didn't understand some of their choices for "consequences", but as I raise my own.....I understand. Once I had my own children, I appreciate and love my parents even more. Many a night, I pray to my parents telling them "thank you" and to help guide me. Thanking them for their undying devotion to help me become the person that I am and hope to be. When we're young, we aren't as grateful for the roof over our heads and the food on the table. All of us have heard of the poor starving children in Africa or whatever third world country your family chose. All of us have been disciplined in some fashion, and back then we didn't like it or understand it sometimes. Watching Chrissy go through her struggles and choices brought back all those memories way back when, but in a different light. How difficult it must have been for my parents to learn of their test results, having five children, wondering if God would bring them home or keep them here to care for us.
I don't know a lot of answers to this earthly world in which we live, and perhaps it isn't for me to know but to believe and hope for better. Whether here in this physical realm or there in the heavenly world.......it's all about love, hope and faith. I know now how much you must have loved us, mom and dad, and as I parent my own children, I pray that I will give it my all. If not today, perhaps someday my children will realize how much I love them. It will not depend on how many times I say the words, " I love you" on a daily basis; rather, by example and life experiences they will learn a parent's love for their child when they have children of their own. For Maria and Frankie, you'll know one day, too, how much your mother loved you. She did it for you, too. If you don't have children of your own.....I will tell you. I will never stop telling you how much you both meant to her. She was a mother who lived for her children. She still lives for you......she lives in your hearts.
There is no greater love than a mother's love for her children
That statement hits home with me as I feel it with my own children as well as with Maria and Frankie. There was never a doubt in my mind that our mom loved us..... way more than herself. In this life of ours, we go through many stages of love, certainly all dependent on our age and maturity, our aspirations, our character and most importantly our relationship life experiences. When my mother passed, I thought the world had ended and how was I to continue on in this world. I had recently graduated from college, and I didn't have a strong clue as to where I wanted to head with my life. Mom's death, certainly inevitible given her health situation; yet, it was still a shock the night it happened. Mom overcame so much physical suffering in her life; it's hard to imagine how she pulled through it all. It occurred to me when I had my own children that her perseverance was all about us. She survived as long as she did for US just as Chrissy had for her own children.
We've all heard in the newspapers and on television horrific stories of mothers killing their children, and as mothers we find it incomprehensible. How could such an offense be possible knowing what WE know and feel as mothers? A father hurting his children is outrageous, but somehow a mother doing the same is unforgiveable. As parents we always want to give more and do more for our own children. That's not to say that our parents didn't try their best. I'm sure my parents were always striving to do more for us than what they were given. My mother use to say that dad would read books on child rearing which shows me he tried. When we were young, I didn't think about the sacrifices and choices my parents had to make for us. Back then I didn't understand some of their choices for "consequences", but as I raise my own.....I understand. Once I had my own children, I appreciate and love my parents even more. Many a night, I pray to my parents telling them "thank you" and to help guide me. Thanking them for their undying devotion to help me become the person that I am and hope to be. When we're young, we aren't as grateful for the roof over our heads and the food on the table. All of us have heard of the poor starving children in Africa or whatever third world country your family chose. All of us have been disciplined in some fashion, and back then we didn't like it or understand it sometimes. Watching Chrissy go through her struggles and choices brought back all those memories way back when, but in a different light. How difficult it must have been for my parents to learn of their test results, having five children, wondering if God would bring them home or keep them here to care for us.
I don't know a lot of answers to this earthly world in which we live, and perhaps it isn't for me to know but to believe and hope for better. Whether here in this physical realm or there in the heavenly world.......it's all about love, hope and faith. I know now how much you must have loved us, mom and dad, and as I parent my own children, I pray that I will give it my all. If not today, perhaps someday my children will realize how much I love them. It will not depend on how many times I say the words, " I love you" on a daily basis; rather, by example and life experiences they will learn a parent's love for their child when they have children of their own. For Maria and Frankie, you'll know one day, too, how much your mother loved you. She did it for you, too. If you don't have children of your own.....I will tell you. I will never stop telling you how much you both meant to her. She was a mother who lived for her children. She still lives for you......she lives in your hearts.
There is no greater love than a mother's love for her children
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