Fah La La La La la.....la....la.....ahhhhhh

Another Thanksgiving has graced its presence in this year of 2011, and our house is bursting at the seams with holiday decor which ranges from peace and hope to a version of the Grizwald's Family Christmas.  If you can envision the character, Chevy Chase, and his house; I think our house is a close second to his.  Imagine Mary, Joseph and Jesus meeting up at the nearest convenience store......that would describe my house in a nutshell. (Perhaps I'm exaggerating a little) 

I let the children take over this chore because I so love to watch the excitement in their eyes as we set up the lights and find just the right spot for that special ornament.   It was the same excitement I felt as a kid when we would take our ride on Christmas Eve with dad to look at all the holiday decorations in the neighborhood while "Santa" left his treasures.  The presents would not be brought until all the children had left. That was the story that mom was sticking to.  It was a time before cell phones and "I" whatevers, but dad  knew exactly how long to disappear before arriving home.  I used to believe it was so magical!   It's the same excitement I would feel coming home upon seeing our house lit up with Christmas cheer where Santa had so lovingly decorated our house with lights and the family Christmas tree.  I enjoy seeing that same excitement in my kids' eyes.  In decorating so early this year, we took some heat from the neighbors as we began our holiday traditions during last weekend's heat wave.  "How could you, it's not even Thanksgiving," was a comment we heard from our lovely neighbor.  We'll see how they feel in 20 degree weather climbing their rooves and handling their Christmas treasures.  It's only going to get colder, right!  So it made sense to me to begin a little earlier this year, and we were able to enjoy time together like taking walks in nature and watching movies during their school break.

The ache still lingers, though,  missing my loved ones.  I started my Christmas baking this weekend because I remember how my sissy loved my cookies, but it still hurts.   Through it all I feel as though I'm battling the choice to live differently through the traditions, living without the ones we love as we used to.  Everything is different.....at least it is for me.  I was not eager to face the approaching Thanksgiving Day, hoping it would leave quietly, as I didn't want to celebrate it.  I have lots to be grateful for, but I wanted to thank God in peace and quiet.  If it weren't for my kids and my mom's lingering words that "family is first, last and always,"  I would hve chosen to read a good book in the quiet of my bed, eating a cold turkey sandwich slathered with Miracle Whip, iceberg lettuce and a touch of salt and pepper followed by a slice of my favorite pie, washed down with an ice cold something.  That sounds lovely to me.  But my destiny is not of that making.  The holidays become time frames, talking about who can come and who can't, what foods to prepare, what to buy, and it seems to go on and on.  I may sound like Scrooge, but it becomes noisy to me, and that noise tends to drown out the peace in my heart, unless I take time to find it.  Peace is within all of us, but these holidays can sure shake it up, don't they?  I prepared our Thanksgiving feast with my sister, Sue, and my neice, Cassie, and our families, and we all understood.  Life goes on whether our loved ones are here or not.  Sometimes that just plain sucks to me.  Thank God for my children who encourage me to celebrate because the smiles on their faces make all the difference.  They are a blessing indeed!  I pray that I bring them the same visions of joy in this holy season just as  my parents created for me no matter how I feel inside.  Perhaps it's by the grace of God that we learn to experience joy, but it's a battle of the wills for me.

I hesitated to write this entry because it's not always what people want to hear.  Life is good, but there's also the reality that life is so different.  During this season of Fah La Lahing; I pray to God to help me see because my heart is having trouble seeing today.

Scent of a Woman

 I found myself at the perfume counter last week buying my favorite scented cream which I haven't bought for quite some time.  Usually I wait for Marty to give it to me as a gift around the holidays, but I've been totally without perfume except for some cheap brand that I probably found at Walgreens just to hold me over.  There I was smelling some of my favorite scents when I happened to catch a glimpse of the perfume brand that my mom used to wear, and the memories permeated my being. 

I immediately remembered her taking a bath, and she would pour it into her bath water, and the bathroom would be embalmed with my mom's familiar scent.  The younger generation might refer to her scent as an old lady's perfume.  Hmmm, come to think of it,  they might refer to my scent as old lady's perfume!  My own family has said that my perfume smells like "Aunt Barbie."  So there I was waiting for the sales lady to pack my product when I started enhaling that familiar smell of my mom.  It brought back so many wonderful memories!  I imagined her in all the familiar earthly places of my childhood:  up at school working, the PTO, the evenings out with my dad, her cooking over the stove and her loving embrace.  How I miss that motherly embrace, her unconditional love, her laugh, her spark, her laugh.  Hell, I miss it all!  Here I am 25 years after her death, and I still tear up thinking about my mom.  Perhaps it's the approaching holidays or hearing the Christmas carols, and my whole being is brought back to the fading time of my childhood.  I thank God for  those memories and yet; I curse them at the same time.  I wonder where it all went?  I don't feel the joy of the season when I know that I should.  Trust me when I say that I am trying to work through those negative feelings.  My Catholic faith tells me that I should.  I should feel God's blessing upon me, and all I seem to think of is what I don't have and how much I want it back. 

I loved watching every detail of my mom getting ready back in the day.  My minds eye can recall every facet of her applying her make-up, getting dressed, selecting the shoes and clothes, feeling her face next to mine when she kissed me goodbye, usually leaving remnants of her lipstick on my cheek.  Watching her get ready gave me the opportunity to chat with her and figure out how I would wear my make-up or choose my own clothes as I got older.  She took pride in her appearance, and growing into my own adulthood I have clung onto that familiar scent of hers.   I can envision  her particular walk as she strutted down our hallway in the house where we grew up.   As a little girl I remember watching her fade into the distance as she left for her social gathering, strolling out to the car and leaving me.  She actually left me!  What was she thinking?! 

As these holidays approach, I find myself drifting back, wanting to know more, and I realize that there's never enough.  I always want to know and learn more about her, but it's been awhile since anything new has been brought to my attention.  I still don't know why she named me, "Barbara".  It seems to be a mystery in my family, and perhaps she never shared that choice with anyone.  Who am I kidding?  Someone knows.  All of us women have a reason for selecting a name.  My own children at a young age have asked me why I named them who they are.  Maybe my mom just liked the name Barbara.  Perhaps it sounds trivial to some people wanting to know these answers, but I bet many of you can relate to what I'm saying, especially if you were adopted.   I'm not adopted myself.  Well, at least I don't think so?  My brothers and sisters used to tease me about being brought home from the Shell Gas Station......I was the free gift.   While I still don't know all the answers of my past;  I long for the scent of my mother; a scent of a woman whom touched me with many warm memories. 

Two Sisters and One Angel

With the leaves changing from their summer colors to the beautiful oranges, reds and yellows I can't help but think of my sissy.  This was Chrissy's  favorite time of year with all it's cool, crisp temperatures, great festive holidays and outrageous foods that she loved so much!  I can't help but think of the many costumes she would create or surprise us with.....even into the last weeks of her life when she felt so tired.  She insisted on dressing herself; perhaps allowing herself to do something for herself....with no ones assistance.  But as much as I miss her and long for her physical presence; this day I can't help but think of two other sisters whose lives would change in a heartbeat.  They are sisters that I only know from a distance.  I have learned of  their tragic journey through my own family ties, our common neighborhoods and schools, our families connected by similiar friends and family members.  My sisters hung out in common circles with their great aunts and my neice knows an uncle and my nephew went to a dance with one of these sisters.  I came to learn of a recent tragedy that was selfishly created by a stranger who started a chain of events that would last a lifetime filled with challenges and grief.  I saw one of these sisters in a photograph  last year taken with my nephew who attended a school dance with her.  What a beautiful aura she has!

Two sisters driving along, minding their own business, talking about who knows what?  Perhaps they were chatting about their evening plans or talking of boys or parents or laughing at a joke.  Maybe they were quarreling over which song they wanted to hear on the radio or whose turn it was to do the dishes.  Maybe they sat in silence, thinking of life or nothing at all.  One never knows when our time will come; not even an eleven year old little girl.  I don't know why these tragic events occur?  They will never make sense to me, but maybe it isn't for us to understand.  And that's where the faith has to happen in order for the healing to begin.  It's easy to "believe" when life goes our way, but it's not so easy when a loved one passes on. I don't think anyone could ever make sense of such  a horrific car accident.  It just so happens that another car traveling at just the same time apparently drove them off the road; only to leave the fallen pieces to a loving family.  That stranger didn't dare stop or take responsibility for their actions, and that alone can lead to many unanswered questions.  You were seen whoever you are.....others witnessed the act.  Why do people act so selfishly?

As I think of my own sister and her journey; I feel the blessings with the cancer, being able to spend time together given her circumstances.  I had a chance to talk with her and be with her those last days.  There's no way to prepare yourself for death really, but I have always found comfort in speaking freely with her; both of us knowing what was to come, saying our "goodbyes".  These two sisters weren't given that opportunity, but I can only hope, knowing what I know, that they were two loving sisters who made the most of their earthly life.  May God bless their family and heal them in the days ahead.   Who knew that one of those sisters would leave her earthly life so young, only to become an angel.  I'm sure of it.  If there is a blessing in the madness of such a tragedy is that God gave this family a young angel whom I'm sure is guiding them on their way through healing.  I hope they see the signs that are so apparent in the early days of grief.  They continue on, but I pray that they continue to see the signs.  All I can say is that I'm so very sorry for their loss.....but in the loss of an earthly sister lives an angel.

"God giving us life is His gift to us, and our gift to Him is living it"

The Onion Experience

Like an onion with all its layers, so too is this journey in life for me.  Each experience in life is bringing forth more knowledge, more depth and soul searching.  Some of the life learning is wanted; yet, other times we ignore the signs and experiences that need to happen.  It sort of reminds me of a child who doesn't want to pay attention to their parents.  We don't always want to pay attention and that's when the imbalance in life occurs, when you deny your true self.   It is in the living of life that the layers form, and sometimes  those layers, those emotional experiences are tucked away.  In this new life that I'm trying to explore, some of my layers have diminished; while others remain.  You only understand me if you dare unfold the layers.  Many of us have them, but I'm convinced that many don't nor do they care, which leaves them sailing through life without a clue. 

From the time my parents have passed on to their new life to the countless deaths of so many others inbetween and more recently the passing of my sister, Chrissy, my personality and emotional layers have been forming.  There are so many levels of grief and on any particular day it can engulf you like the pungent scent of an onion, while other days these layers of emotions unfold or grow, never knowing what feelings might emerge.  Those feelings could be sparked  by a familiar smell, a song, a vehicle on the road.  There isn't any rhyme or reason I've learned as to why I cry or how I might respond on any given day.  Perhaps I'm agitated by a certain entitled behavior by a stranger or question why people are absent from their lives or absent in my life.  

As I travel this road, meeting new acquaintances, living a new life, watching the world around me I sometimes wonder how I sift through it all.  I look up to the skies and a peace fills my heart.  I guess looking into the deep blues with billowy clouds gives me a sense of hope and peace.  There are days when I feel I'm walking in the hamster wheel and I don't quite reach any destination, but my body sure feels tired.  Other days energy ignites me to try new adventures, meet new people and explore new horizens or perform a good deed for someone.  The next day I could be back on the hamster wheel.  My intention in this life is to seek and hopefully find some answers as to what I'm supposed to grasp on this journey. 

One of the most difficult tasks I've had on this earth was to tell my children of their dying dog, Kelly, and in later years having to tell them about their Aunt Chrissy's journey which would be cut short on this earth and  continue on the other side.  It wasn't easy grasping that idea myself, but telling young eyes that their dear aunt, someone who was visible and an active part of their lives was going to die was one of the most difficult jobs I've ever had to do.  Other than watching my sister's physical pain, revealing to my children that their Aunt Chrissy was going to die was very surreal, but it had to be done.  I had promised them that I would always tell them what was going on with her condition, and I wasn't going to shy away from the truth no matter how difficult it was.  I asked God for guidance to not only tell the truth here but to tell them my truth about life beyond this one.  That was the only version that would help me get through "the talk."  It was painful to live through, but given my own personal past life ordeals, I knew they would be grateful for my honesty thus giving them the opportunity to say their goodbyes to her.

The other night, while I was sitting with my children as they were doing their usual homework routines, the subject of heaven and death came up with my middle son, Luke, who has the sweetest of hearts.  For some reason he decided that it was the perfect opportunity to ask sensitive questions and express his concerns about my parents and their life after this one.  With a quivering lip and tearful eyes he said, "Mom, I really wish I could have met your mommy and daddy......my grandparents.    My immediate response has always been to express how much their grandparents would have spoiled them and how much they love them.  Given the choice to live and be near them physically, I know all their grandparents would have chosen that.  But God has a plan that is bigger than we can understand.  I thought that would be sufficient and there would be no more talk of what pains me.  He continued on to say that he really missed his Aunt Chrissy and it makes him very sad not to have her here.  It's at those moments when I tell myself to keep my tears at bay and try to offer them comfort.  I feel it's at those pivotal times in my life when the Holy Spirit fills me with its sound words of wisdom.  I know the words weren't mine, but hopefully the message was received.

I went on to tell Luke that while I'm sad and missing her;  I also feel happy because I know she is with my mom and dad and  grandparents and all my family in heaven.   I went on to say that someday you'll get to meet them, too. (imagine a long pause) I wish I could have bottled my son's expression or clicked a photo of him right then and there, and sent it across my email because it was the look of fear, shock, sadness and curiosity all rolled into one.  His face showed fear of his own mortality, shock at possibly seeing all these people from his family that seemed so far away, sadness from his own grief and curiosity of how getting to heaven happens.  Of course his response was, "WHAT!!???"  
"Yes, Luke, one day our body is going to die, but the spirit never will.  You'll see them all again.  We'll all be together again buddy."  As he awkwardly wiped away his tears that he was trying to hold back, he grinned from ear to ear. 

The onion experience is built over time with friendships, family and emotional ups and downs.  I knew that another layer had just been added that night by this talk with my son.  How can you explain the feelings you have when your 10 year old son talks of his own mortality, his fears, his sadness and still explodes with joy.  It pains my heart to know he misses her so much, but it is what it is.  The onion experience is my own, keeping what is mine in my heart while releasing some of it to you.  The journey goes on.................