Grandma Charge

One of the best parts about being a little girl was my grandma, Grandma Gliatti. She was my dad’s mother and was everything a grandma should be! I have to say that all of her grandchildren universally felt exactly the same as me, Grandma G was the bomb! My goal was to one day be that kind of grandma to a little girl if I ever had a granddaughter because she made such a wonderful impression on my life!

When I was a kid, once a month off we would go to Grandma’s house for a weekend. These times were some of the best times of my childhood. Where some kids hated the trips to their grandparents finding them boring, mine were sheer delightful. Grandma Gliatti laughed, cried when you told her a sad story of someone hurting your feelings and gave you undivided attention.  It never mattered to us what she had for us, toys were not a concern at her house, just spending time with her.

Grandma was a cook who spent a lot of time in the kitchen. When she cooked, it was never an issue for us to be in there with her. And sampling her Italian cooking was allowed, in fact, encouraged!  Being a great cook, wow, was that awesome! In that kitchen, I heard stories about her life, Grandpa’s and my dad’s growing up years.  I so loved her story-telling.

When she died, it felt like a little piece of my childhood died within me because she was the sunshine of my childhood, my favorite person in the world. And then, before too long, my son and daughter in law had a daughter!  I found myself in the grandma role!

By this time, I had switched back to my maiden name so I, in fact, was a Grandma Gliatti too, as my grandmother, Josephine Gliatti. History repeated itself sort-of.  And I was overjoyed from the minute I saw her, Ava Glasmeier, and held her. She was a button of joy and smiles!

When I looked at Ava, as she was growing, I felt inside the love my grandma had for me. I put the same passion in being a grandmother in my relationship with my granddaughter so she would feel the same unconditional love. When she came over, I gave her the undivided attention I got from my grandma. I really don’t think a grandma can spoil their grandkids!

When Ava was younger, we baked cookies, cakes, brownies, oh anything we could think of. She learned how to clean because she loved to role play. We did all kinds of things like my Grandma Gliatti did with me. I even talked to her a few times about my grandma so she would know I had a role model to follow, I was not winging it in the grandma role.

The bond between us started very young and still is so strong. We laugh at each other

often and cuddle even at her age now, ten years old.  Her parents foster this special relationship and without their support, our relationship would not exist. For this, I am grateful and I know my Grandma Gliatti is happy and proud. Yes, I feel blessed to have had my Grandma and doubly blessed to have my Ava! 

God's Grace is Among Us

The confusion over the identity of who you are by some people is not something that can be understood by simple explanations. Some people don’t want to hear them because they have foregone conclusions. Who people are often more felt, intuition, or experienced by interactions. The test of time can be revealing also, more so than by simply taking an experience and placing judgement without knowing all the facts. Live your life going off your gut, guided by the light of God when and if you decide to evaluate people and try not to be judgmental.

Many times in life we are faced with crossroads with people, those near and dear to us and those we pass in work and interpersonal relationships. Associations bring conflict; it is a fact of life. Stronger is the person that can face these head on and resolves them. The ones that can merely classify them quickly and walk away without forethought is the person that thinks life is simple that no one deserves a second thought and takes people for granted, the gifts of others is not to be taken lightly. Living a life with regret is a hard thing to overcome down the line. Looking back, some you left in the dust you may find would have been your best adversaries.  

Each person you will meet in life has value and was brought into your life for a purpose, part of God’s master plan. Be certain you uncover the reason. There are those who are truly meant to float in and then fade into the woodwork of your past. They are stepping stones for your future period. But there are also some that are the fabric of your being, those that built you up and helped you become the person you are and could have built up more, if you had stayed involved, engaged. The test of time is the ones that stuck through it all with you, helped you preserve when times were tough.  Who was and would have been there when you head was low, when you didn’t win, and still had your back?

If you find those people walk away from you without a second thought, the sadness can be painful but the reality is you gave what you had to give without conditions. And we are called to love and give without conditions. Expect nothing in return and then you are altruistic. In a perfect world, we are returned love unconditionally and friends reciprocate. We are trusted, not judged and given lead way to grow. In reality, not everyone has the ability to love or be a true friend, partner or family member for life. Growing pains may be, to some, learning the difference.

Working with someone who is quick to judgement and doesn’t appreciate your efforts is equally disheartening but par for the course of employment in today’s times. Know that the compassion comes in handy and you are the bigger person for having the strength of character to accept fate, a rejection f sorts and move beyond. Everyone doesn’t have to accept you as you are, but then again, many others will, free of their own prejudices and constraints.  Being hateful for the person that degrades you or pushes you away nets nothing but internal hatred for others or makes you no better than the person who pushes your goodness away. Rise up, take notice and move on.  

To live in peace requires an ability to let bygones be simply that, part of the fabric of your past. One must learn to let others let you go, let you be part of the fabric of their past. Even when the pain of letting go seems hard, hurtful or disloyal to you. Life is not about always winning but knowing when the ship has sailed and you are not meant to be onboard. Learn when the energy to hop on board is a sacrifice to your own inner peace.

Fighting for the right to be a part of someone’s life should not be a constant battle. We need to recognize God is who we must prove our loyalty to in the end, not to men or women on earth, not to those who betray our confidence or goodness and our faith. In the end, He will see that we receive our bountiful and the right people love us the way we were meant to be loved and received in his grace.

You are goodness,

Full of a heart of gold,

Don’t let anyone,

Turn your spirit cold.

You have a mission,

To make your life a shining light,

Others may try to cut you down,

But just hold your candle to a higher height.

Looking Back at the Earliest Days - Daughter's Birthday

My daughter and I are nothing alike.  She is headstrong, outspoken and a true extrovert. She is driven, passionate and has a real command of

communication skills that she can use to her advantage in almost any situation good or bad. And so today, her birthday, it seems fitting that I would take a moment to write a memories of the early days as a small child of how this personality first exhibited itself to the world.  You can judge for yourself how easy or difficult it was to be a young mom to this precious lady. Do know, without a doubt, I was never short of moments of unexpected laughter!

As a toddler, my little girl enjoyed masterminding new tricks.  She quickly learned how to jump out of her crib by using the mattress as springboard. She also knew it upset me to no end so learned to climb back into as soon as she heard my steps coming down the hallway. To make matters even worse, she hated dirty diapers as much as me. So, prior to potty training, baby girl took to removing them anywhere and everywhere! How did I know this? I would turn around after yelling at her seeing her mess with her diaper telling her to not take it off and there she would be walking in it. However, the dead giveaway was she was walking leaning sideways; kind off cockeyed as she never quite mastered getting her legs in the right holes so was trying to keep it upright on her hips.

My little girl was frequently ill, just a multitude of health issues from Day I. Going to the pediatrician was often on the to do list.  And she could be a handful in the itty bitty room with not much for her to do besides open every drawer, find the trash can, flip the lights, roll on the floor, turn the sink on, until I got tired of listening to myself say no and threatened her with bodily harm. By the time the doctor walked in, she would promptly tell him, when he apologized for being long, “I was good or Mommy would beat my butt.” That was Christina, not mincing words or holding back.

Then there was the time we arrived at Vacation Bible School late. The church’s hall was very quiet as classes had already started. Most of the nuns were busy except for the one performing check in. She approached and I apologized for being late. I said I got delayed by a phone call. My daughter jumped in to correct me loudly so everyone in the hall heard “No, it was because my brother said a bad word and needed to get soap in his mouth.”  All eyes in the hall were on us and I could feel my son falling back behind my legs.  Christina did not always have a filter, lol!

As I took her shopping, so many times things came out unexpected that I began to be well-versed at coming up with responses back to strangers. I also learned to get the hell out of lines quickly. Her voice projected well like mine. There were the times she asked me things like “Why does that person ahead of us smell so bad?” or “Mister, why are you staring at me? Don’t you know that is rude?”  Or getting to the front of the register and asking for me to buy her candy. I would say no and she would say with annoyance “You promised if I was good you would buy me candy, I was good. You lied Mommy!” I could feel all eyes staring at me like I was the worst mother of the year. 

Even when it came to eating, my daughter could outsmart me. The rules were that if you didn’t eat the main course there were no deserts or treats, like cookies. I wasn’t good, initially, at checking to see if she stashed food away, assuming if her plate was empty, she ate it so praising her.

Over a period of about 6 months, she got rid of food in so many ways, eating up praise left and right. Before being potty-trained, I would find food stuffed in her diaper from dinner! She would put food bites in the bottom of her juice cup. She had hand signals for the dog under the table and would feed it to him. No wonder the dog loved her!  I suppose, one day, I gave up. No treats right after dinner because her ingenuity was just too creative. 

Many parents believe in Time Out. It was even popular back when she was a youngster. But it was a useless proposition at my house with my little girl. About the time I would tell her she could come out of it, she would tell me she would prefer to stay in it! Her communication skills were always extremely advanced for her age. So even if company was over, she’d say things when time was up for time out, “I am enjoying using my imagination, I think I will sit here a bit longer but thank you anyways.”   And sit she would until I had to make her get up!

Answering the telephone became something she enjoyed from the moment she could start putting sentences together, about 2 1/2 years old. Even then, her speed was incredible. She could beat almost all of us to the phone if she had a running start, though she was always the shortest in the house.  It was quite comical to hear someone so tiny give complete answers in sentence structure and hear their reaction on the other end of the phone! When the call was for her dad and he was working, she gave the funniest answers. My favorites she came up with were: “Daddy working. He’s making money to buy me shoes.” And this classic, “Daddy’s gone.  He doesn’t want to talk to you now.”  Guess they got the message from her! 

Nobody, but nobody loved Snicker bars like my girl!  And yet, due to migraines induced by nuts, they were a serious No No for her! So, somehow she sneaked them. How did I know?  Well, in cleaning her room and pulling out her bed one day, I discovered a stash of snicker wrappers under her bed.  After this repeatedly happening, she got wiser! She then began squishing them between that space in the wall and the side of the bed it lays up against.   All of this was going on in the lower grades and to this day, I have no idea who was feeding my kid candy bars and in that quantity. But she was probably outsmarting them like she did me to get them!  And there is a part of me that admires her ingenuity for doing such a damn good job at doing it! At times, there were so many of those candy wrappers, it was like a child addicted to them who needed to go to Snickers Anonymous. 

That fact that someone this small could pull one over on me so many times and create so much material is astounding when you think about it!  Seriously, I was a single mom with a dual degree, well-read and written.  I am outspoken, passionate, driven and headstrong, nothing like her! No way a little twerp like that could get the best of me, but she did, many times!  And through it all, I knew that one day she would grow up and make something of herself. And in spite of the highs and lows of raising her, I am proud to say, she has.  She brought me tears, nights of fears, laughter, heartbreak and some of the best moments of my life. And today, on her birthday, I remember a little girl who changed the world with her wit, charm and uniqueness.  And yes, life was never the same, nor will it ever be, 37 years later. 

Beautiful Boys

Sometimes boys get a bad rap. All the little girls get showered with praise full of the compliments on their girly looks, the clothes, gifts of doll babies.  Left out of all these stereo type cultures we live in are the little boys in the world with their trucks and blue jeans. I will never forget reading Cinderella Ate my Daughter by Peggy Orenstein who was bound and determined when she had a girl, she would fall not fall into that trap. Lo and behold, she did.

Having grandchildren it is different. Each and every child is so special, there is no chance of being smitten by the girls are sweeter and pink is more fun to shop for, at least in my mind. I have gotten past that as I have aged because each little individual brings their own uniqueness to the world and to my life; I love them all beyond words.

Recently, on a trip to my son’s house, my husband and I took two of our grandsons to the park for an afternoon. It was a beautiful day, and as I watched them play, I noticed how much they had grown. It was one of those epiphany moments where you sit back, as a grandmother, and have pride in that your little ones are beginning to be more independent. Yet, as they adventured about, we had to follow them steadfast because they wanted us right behind them to share in each and every adventure! So refreshing to know, even with independence, we fill a spot in their hearts even as they grow up. I hope, long after we are gone, they remember afternoons like this, memories at the park.

I told my husband I wanted to attempt to capture that afternoon, somewhat, in pictures. One can truly never really get the feeling in a digital image, not the emotion but I was going to try.  Truly the boys are beautiful.  Jake and Ty look quite alike in many ways and yet, personality wise, could not be more different! Attached is a video if you care to watch it, done to John Lennon’s song Beautiful Boy. He wrote it for his own son whom he was never fortune enough to see grow up.

May you find those moments in your life when you can sit outside or venture to a park and watch children play. There is such beauty in all young people’s faces and passion for discovery. I am forever grateful for the moments I too can sit and observe the beautiful boys in my life.

Click Here for the Video Link

Christmas with Grandma G

Living in a community for Active 55+ residents has given me a different view of Christmas.  These residents are teaching me more about living in the later stages of my life and what the holidays are about, celebrating being here to enjoy it, pure and simply. 

The way it is celebrated by our neighbors is as varied as they are. There is the neighbor next door who like so many of us, lives on a tight limited income so didn’t really have enough money to travel home to see the kids and grand-kids after making the trip twice in the last 6 months. 3 weeks before Christmas the kids called and said airline tickets were purchased in their name, they would be flying to their kids in PA for Christmas!

We also know there are many with no children or family to spend holidays with so invite others to a holiday party at their home. Christmas Eve they host a huge dinner and it is a family affair for those who need an adopted family for Christmas. We are told it is such a beautiful affair that even some with family sometimes attend!

There are those that go vacationing in groups with other members here or with longtime friends from Florida or elsewhere.  As you age, no Christmas should be taken for advantage as each could be your last. Also some relatives break from their families and unconditional love doesn’t exist so residents, for the most part. Many here refuse to be sorrowful, they are reminded by our community, you are loved by God and accepted as you are by everyone here.  Instead they adopt an attitude that their family may eventually come around and love and miss them. If not, God wants them to be happy not wither in self-pity for what was or was not. Life is not to wasted but cherished for the blessings bestowed on us.

My Christmas was preceded by a brief overnight-er in the hospital.  It was

discovered my main artery was almost completely blocked to my heart. A stint

was put in and I am fine, one week to the day of Christmas Eve.  Those are the times God lets you know whose lives you touched, who you matter to and who

you does not care whether you live or die. And, this lead to a change for the holidays! Sad on one front because our plans for flying to NYC to spend with my husband’s wonderful family were canceled. It opened an opportunity for us to spend with my son’s family in TN as that was driving only 2 states away. And both him and my daughter-in-law opened the door wide! So, God saw fit I saw my son, daughter-in-law and three of my grandchildren this year for Christmas!  Lost one blessing and gained another!

Everyone has prized memories of childhood memories of Christmas. Mine were of going to Toledo, Ohio and spending them with my Grandma Gliatti. So, when I arrived home yesterday, I received the best Christmas gift of all.  To explain, I have to back up; my older sister had traveled to Italy this fall. While in Italy, Terri traveled to the city where Grandma was raised, Bovino. Bovino is a small hilltop t9own in southern Italy at the foot of the Irpinia mountains located in the province of Foggia. She wanted to bring me back something from the city so I had a connection from where Grandma was from. Unknown at the time about the heart issue to her (or me!) but thinking she wanted some item symbolic of our tie to the city, Terri bought a beautiful heart necklace from a shop in Bovino.

Hearing the story in a letter with the gift box when I got home the other day, I knew inside this is a Grandma Gliatti thing, the heart that drew Terri to buy it. Grandma was always prayerful and led by God's word and love of family. When unable to attend Mass, she would sit and watch it on TV going through all the steps as if she were in attendance in accordance with her Catholic faith.  She was watching over me when I prayed in the hospital making sure everything was okay because she was that kind of grandma to all her grand-kids.

Inside the heart emblem is an item that swirls in a circular motion, just like the circle of love she had hoped for our family. Terri took that trip that took her back to where Grandma Gliatti started, Bovino, and Terri brought back a piece Grandma Gliatti wanted me to know was symboic of her heart showing me her love has never really left me. When others may leave my life Grandma's love is always there, uncconditional, watching over me, from heaven. Terri also bought me a pair of 

earrings from another shop keeper who knew grandma’s family, another connection to hold onto and pass on to my beloved Granddaughter who I love as much as Grandma loved me.   When the day comes and I pass into heaven where my Grandma Gliatti resides, I will have let my granddaughter know of my Grandma Gliatti’s unending unconditional love for her grandchildren.  

I had Christmas with my Grandma Gliatti again, in 2016 and my heart is full of thanksgiving.  I got my soft heart from her.  Grandma is with me always on my path of life.  I am who I am, give what I can give and accept there are those who will judge me and feel they are justified in doing so. But I chose to live as my Grandma Gliatti lived, simple, lovingly and trying to live in God's teachings the best I can, though I may stumble and fall from time to time I am ever prayful as she taught me.

Christmas is more than just about Jesus’s birth and giving gifts, it is a time to renew our commitment to living out His word.   Grandma’s heart reminds me true love is everlasting. She has been with me all these Christmases, not just 2016, in spirit.  Love endures.  It is the non-pure type that doesn’t, perhaps that type never truly exists.  Maybe that is why 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 (“ Love is patient, love is kind…) was written, it has to be defined for so many weak withe ability to love, shallow in faith.  Grandma wanted Terri and I to stay connected regardless of our differences, to hold on to our bond, because that is what families do. Perhaps that is why, everytime she visits Italy she feels compelled to bring me back something and it is always something that reminds her of Grandma Gliatti for she knows how much she meant to me. 

Grandma Gliatti taught me how to be a Grandma by example. I know I have made her tremendously proud in that I have passed that type of love onto my granddaughter and to my other grandchildren I have been allowed to bond with. I love all my grandkids as she loved all of hers, freely, with all of my being. Daily, I pray for them all,so that God and Grandma G watch over them. 

The heart was telling, the text message I got from my granddaughter's new cell phone the very next day was too "Grandma, I miss you now" I hadn't been gone a full day yet.  And it made me sad and happy to see her words on my screen, isn't that part of the dichotomy of love? My son and daughter-in-law's children for sure will always know that Grandma Ronni will always be with them at Christmas because part of my heart will always reside with them.  Grandma Gliatti taught me to love like that.   Even in heaven, I will be celebrating Christmas with those I love "thee" most....

Dedicated to my sister Theresa Marie

Video Link to My Christmas

Parenting was Your Choice

Too often children are forced to conform. Parents have a preconceived idea of how their kids are supposed to do everything, exactly by the developmental charts.  The pressure begins early for kids to conform and the comparisons with everyone else’s child and individuality is thrown out the window. Parents easily begin the process of having expectations of how children should look, how they should act, and present themselves.  They must be dressed a certain way and they must always be perfectly groomed lest they look unkempt, like children, God forbid.  These lessons tend to stay with children through their teens, and for life as some parents consider it a direct reflection on them if their offspring is not nearly perfect.

Parenting is too often set on some unreachable bar and that goal is then pushed onto kids. Often too it is based on “I am in charge” period and you must obey. In today’s busy world, it can easily be about wanting a child to make a parent’s live easier though the child has needs and didn’t ask to be here. Morality is suddenly not being taught in the home and when not captured, it’s blamed on schools and society as the culprit. Why isn’t this a parent’s responsibility anymore?  Why would a parent want the value system of a teacher to be the basis of their offspring’s value system?  Society’s value system also is up to interpretation in a developing mind. Why should that be a child’s learning tool for morality? Also ignoring your child’s needs and avoiding giving them attention can directly cause  kids to become either hostile or low-self-esteem causing depression and in worst cases suicide.

Children should not have to dress like everyone else. Being able to express oneself by dressing a little bit different is okay. Their benchmark for success should not be defined completely by society. Parents should be familiar with what they excel in, what their passion is, what their weaknesses are and not rely on a teacher conference to learn about their own children. Yet, I have learned many do.  Allowing creativity with your children will instill confidence in a young person, and attention shows they have value.  Nothing takes the place of time and attention from a parent.

Too often, parents think their children that are perfectly well-behaved at home because nothing is array have no issues.  Yet how many parents are truly paying attention?  How many kids are hiding things from their parents?  The ones that seem perfect are the ones that could be the most troublesome away from home, especially if they have literally nothing going on in their lives.  

Be in touch with your children from early on to adulthood. Allow them a leaning post and to let some steam off at home, to vent.  Home should be where the heart is. They should be free to make mistakes at home and be open about what those are to get reinforcement and advice. It can be a cold world. Don’t be a parent that expects the world from your child when the world expects even more.

No one is hardwired perfectly. Parents need to allow their children to be human; home should be a free zone.

Freedom of expression should be taught at home. Abandonment of holding in feelings should be permitted in one’s home with family without fear of retribution.   Naturally this should be done and taught with restraint and respect. There are boundary lines that need to be taught and enforced with children of all ages. This is where boundary lines are taught and set the tone for all relationships to come.

There should be positive reinforcement if someone feels inclined to express themselves creatively, perhaps differently than you, personality be it artistically, in dress, or some other fashion.  Conformity is over-rated. Many of the greatest in history were non-conformist. Allow your child the opportunity to be one. They could go down in history for what they set out to accomplish.  The alternative is a humdrum live full of regret. And resentment over you, the parent, and the one thing that stood in the way.. 

Whose Sock Was It?

I do not like socks with holes in them.  Who does? I am sure she put the hole in it.  I’ll be damned if I am getting stuck with it!  When the partner sock shows up, I will get stuck with the pair permanently. If she thinks because she is the older one that is going to happen, Miss Bossy has another thing coming! This time I am going to win the Sock War.  I gave in the last time with the Stare Contest! 

So, when she had the nerve to stick it in in the middle of my clothes pile, that holey sock and have it in my laundry pile, I just about lost it. I barely could hold my scream inside. I only did it so I would not get in trouble. I waited till she went downstairs to her bedroom in the basement.  I slipped down the steps from upstairs and quickly opened the basement door as quietly as I could and thus began another  Sock War installment. God only knows what version we were on now. I was getting tired of this shenanigans.    Being the younger sister sometimes just plain sucks. I don't care if she does let me tag along with her sometimes, I want to win some in-house fights. She should let me win for my self-esteem, at least that is what my friends say. She is going to scar me for life.

I yelled downstairs, quickly, so as she wouldn't be there, at the bottom of the steps. Aha, upper hand! She taught me that, now she gets a dose of her stuff!  I knew she'd be madder than hell. I screamed loudly like there was a fire in the house "Terri, this is not my sock" and pitched that holey sock  proudly down the steps slamming the door behind me.  Then, I ran like a bat out of hell up the set of stairs to be out of site when she ran like a track star back up after me.  

Like clockwork, here she came. I got my door closed in the nick of time and heard her tread up the steps. Then in a split second it seemed she was outside my bedroom door with that damn sock, threw it to the floor as I was holding my door shut as tightly as I could so she couldn't throw it in.  She said something not nice, loudly outside my door.  The nerve of that bully!

Sisters are ridiculous. How can people say they love them?  I could not understand, at that time, how people say they are their best friends.  No one had a sister who threw holey socks at them like mine did. How dishonest to not claim she had put her toe through that sock and falsely put the blame on me. I didn’t want that damn sock.  

But even I have to admit, we fit together in many ways. We are sisters, with the same mother and father. She was born first. I was born two and a half years later. My sister was named Theresa.  I was named Veronica.  Good Catholic names we had. Maybe they were chosen because of our father’s heritage though I was told it was for other reasons.   

Our dad was Italian. His parents came from Italy and were Catholic. Our mother was a convert to Catholicism.  I have always been told Italians have strong tempers and we sure did, especially towards each other. We either love or hated each other and our fighting sure brought out the worst in each other. But other times, the love bond was pretty darn strong.  So maybe it is true, Italians love you or hate you, and feel that way about each other because my sister and I, back in those days felt that way about each other.  I wonder if other siblings do.

Though our names were beautiful saint names,we were always called tomboy names, her Terri and me Ronni. It somehow seemed fitting, looking back. We were raised by our father, after our parents divorced and I am not sure either of us was ever really girly. I remember taking ballet classes for a time and let’s just say tutus never quite felt right on either of us. We practiced in  pink leotards and tights.  Getting us to practice those darn moves was real hard work. We would both rather do anything else!  Speaking for myself, I had an aversion for wearing pink for years.  I bet it had to do with those stupid ballet classes!  I still hate tutus! I kinda think they look funny.

Our differences have always been striking for years.  Terri has always been the creative one.  She had the ability to sing. She entered singing competitions in middle school and I can recall her singing quite well. There were times, as kids, I would sit on the front porch of our home and she would belt out songs for me on that porch at dusk and I would sit there mesmerized by how well she sang, so envious as my voice was so flat.  

She was always telling me how vivid my imagination was and how wonderfully animated I was. In time, I learned she was correct but I loved her art skills. Terri could also draw. She use to carry a sketch pad of her artwork.  It showed her emotional side though I was always the one that wore her heart on her sleeve; she was the one that captured it in song and in artwork.  I was the one that captured it in writings and in tears.  

Saint Theresa of Avila

In time, I learned some more about our names. Saint Theresa of Avila was a remarkable saint who was known as a woman of reform, compassion and prayer.  She faced a lot of adversity for her time and yet pushed forward in spite of it.  She was supposedly very courageous and compassion and yet, quite misunderstood by many.  Through all the opposition she faced, she held tight to her faith in God.  One of her most famous lines is “God is enough.”  

Saint Veronica

Saint Veronica is the woman that offered her veil to Jesus on his route to Calvary and upon holding it to his face, his image in blood was left on the cloth.  The word “vera” is the Latin word meaning Truth or Truthful thus the veil is considered the true image of Christ. Her act of moving out of the crowd to Jesus is considered a true act of charity.   

I like that thought. I think of myself as charitable and being willing to help others. Infact, I have done a lot of work with non-profits and still continue to do so. I think my parents did a good job picking the name, I grew in to it pretty well. Theresa suits my sister well too. She is very prayerful and has always been misunderstood by many, even me.  I also think she is the one that has never been afraid of change, of creating changes and is independent like Staint Theresa was.  There is an irony that we have traits of those Saints.  

My sister and I have always had a deep abiding faith in God.  I find it an honor and a blessing to carry a name of someone so close to Jesus on his route to the cross.  I also was touched to learn my sister has a name to match a Saint that has some parallels to her.  It makes me prefer the name Veronica to Ronni and sometimes wish she went by Theresa verses Terri.  

I have remained Catholic knowing this religion  was so important to my grandmother. I have found my home in this faith also.  It was a crucial part of her life.  I have always remembered a beautiful rosary she brought back from Italy years ago on a visit, one for each of her grandchildren. Unfortunately, I lost mine and it has always been a sore topic for me, such a strong connection to my grandmother, her faith and also mine.  

We sister and I fight less as we age. We find now we have more similarities than we realized. Funny how age shows you that.  We find perhaps those fights might have had to do with more in common instead of less.  Gone is the hate and now I don't think it was ever was really there. I think it was about life, our life,  about our frustration with our parents divorcing and not understanding what was going on in our home. She was an easy target for me and me for her. When that is put aside, there is a lasting bond that has survived much change, controversy and years of trials.

A year ago, my sister went to Italy. She was certain to visit Vatican City, something she always wanted to do for a variety of reasons.  We had wonderful memories of Grandma sharing pieces of her faith with us as little girls when she babysat us on visits up to her city.    Upon her return, my sister visited me. She held out a box and told me she had a gift for me . I could tell it was something very special.

As I held it in my hands, I thought I saw a tear in her eye. It was one of those moments where you have a feeling what you are about to see, experience will stay with you forever but you are not quite sure why, yet. I opened the box, slowly.  There lay a beautiful sparkling rosary, even more beautiful than the one I lost all those years ago from my beloved Grandmother, blessed by the Pope she brought me back from Italy to replace the one I had lost.

I then begun to realize, that sock was holy.

Norman Rockwell Doesn't Exist for Many

Norman Rockwell pictures always seem to depict the perfect Christmas.  I wonder how many families in America actually have a nuclear family, children living with their biological parents. With a divorce rate of 50% or more, half of the homes do not.  That means, Christmas trees are surrounded with children with one parent and a step-parent or a single parent sharing both duties.

It is hard to see and hear about huge families all gathered sharing memories year after year and not have those traditions within your own family.  But having

others take the time to include those less fortunate in your Christmas is really

what the season is all about. The three wise men traveled quite far to visit a newborn baby just to present him with presents.  Take the time to invite someone who might not have a family to spend the holidays with this season to your home, to your family celebration.

When I look back at the memories I have had with my children, pre-divorce, it was a great deal easier to celebrate. Not having to split children between two families on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day was less stressful.  For the children, having both parents present I am certain Christmas morning was more exciting than having one parent there.  

Luckily my ex coordinated gift-buying with me so we did not double up on gifts.  It still was a strain and meant, many holidays it was anything but ‘normal’ after the first several years.  There were step-parents to deal with, who never feel quite the same about the kids, more family get-togethers to go to which is not always fun when kids turn into teens. 

As my children turned to adults and had children, the clock seemed to turn back. I saw them return to babes again, sitting back and seeing reminders right before my eyes.  Grandchildren full of wonder at Christmas lights, ripping open presents when they were large enough to understand what to do with a gift, and fearing Santa but wanted to give him their wish list! 

But, much as I and many want that Norman Rockwell Christmas, your children have their lives too and sometimes you can’t be a part of it. And so, as it goes,

grab the holidays you get with them, and soak up those memories.  None of those moments will last forever. And reality is too many of us are really not a part of a Norman Rockwell picture family. Jesus wasn’t either and He is the origin of Christmas, the real celebration.

Friends are chosen family too.  Find your circle of love to

celebrate Christmas with and reminisce about past holiday celebrations.  Take what God has given you, embrace it and make the most of all you have.  Jesus was not one that lived His life wishing for more though he was quite poor. He lived with faith, showing all of us it is possible to live with few riches and yet feel blessed, and rich beyond measure if we live in the light of God’s goodness.   Video of some of my Christmas moments

Ashley's Time

There is a time for everything in life.  Like the cycles of the seasons, things in our life have a way of cycling around, like the development of childhood to teen-age years to the golden ages.   Things change and yet, the general rhythm of it stays the same. Life is funny that way.

Today is my youngest sister’s birthday.  I can still recall sharing a bedroom with her when she was just a baby. I was in about the sixth grade. I would be awoken by sounds of her either crying or cooing. Her crib was on one wall and my bed was on another wall.  She eventually learned how to stand up, peek over the headboard of her crib and stare at me. Something about that cute little baby girl staring at me made it hard to sleep. But also made me fall in love with her.  She had the darkest brown eyes with the cutest smile and spoke so cute when she began speaking. She, naturally, had the happiest disposition of all the babies I had known, when she was feeling good. I was the big sister, not the mother, thus I never had to deal with the hard stuff, doctor visits, feedings, cranky periods, discipline, teaching sharing,etc.  I just got the joys of playtime and could walk away whenever I wanted to.

Over the years, I saw my sister grow up. Many of those years, it was from afar, in some regards.  Our age gap was about 12 years.   I became a young mom myself so moved away when my sister was still quite young.   I still recall hearing her giggling at my first wedding. I am not sure if that is because she thought the marriage wouldn't last or she thought the idea of me being married was just plain silly.  Kids are brutally honest.   I think it was just her way of having a good time there; she was a happy girl in a pretty dress. 

Once my son was born, my sister, age 8, said she was the youngest aunt among her friends.  Not long after, my sister turned 10 and became an aunt again to a cute baby niece. My little baby girl was going to follow the same path of life I had watched play out with my younger sister.   Now, I was the one doing all the things I had recalled occurring when I was, years ago, lapsing in and out of my sister’s existence. I was taking the baby girl to the doctor, doing her night feedings, dealing with emotional little girl’s feelings.   I never remembered my sister being this emotional, but then again, from a young girls standpoint, things always look quite  different, especially when you don’t have the responsibility of another’s life in your hands.  But, the experience of it all, motherhood, I would not trade it for any other in the world.

It became so ironic at times to have a sister growing up and a daughter, just about ten years apart.  And in reality, so was I, growing and maturely, right there alongside of them.  My sister was so open and honest with me as her life unfolded with the various ups and downs. She appreciated my input, asked for it often and we laughed frequently over the stuff of life.

My youngest sister's wonderful family

My own daughter rejected my opinions.  She hated my line, "My goal in your life is not to be your best friend. Equally I heard,“Get a life” often than not during her formidable years.  When I began to listen was when I got divorced again.   Maybe she will realize, if she reads this, moms sometimes do actually listen to their teen age daughters for advice, even though it may not be intended that way.  I saw something in my daughter and in my sister that I had seen in myself years ago and I wanted back. That sparkle in their eyes, and I did find it.

The irony, at the time was having two young women in my life so very important to me that I loved, one who wanted me in their life and another who wanted me, most days,  to drop off a cliff and not be found until she turned 18.    Both provided me with so much laughter, learning lessons and memories to last a lifetime.  Both also provided me with glimpses of myself as I watched them grow and develop.

It seems like yesterday that my sister had a baby boy.  Her son was a total delight and to this day is one of the greatest joys in my life. There is something about him that just touches my heart strings in a way I truly can’t put into words. He was a small boy full of energy and magical charm. As my husband says to me, there is something about him that makes you love him as much as if he was your own.  He has a beautiful soul for a young man.   

Another child soon followed for my sister, after her son, with the same age gap as my children. Amazing how time changes but some things don’t. Our kids had the same age span and the same gender line up.  This daughter proved to be as challenging as mine.  Daughters, second born anyways, are not submissive personalities, in general.  But, they are, in our family anyways, driven to success, high achievers and have a will that is unbreakable. I am as proud of her as I am of my sister, my daughter and myself, all second born.

 It must be that my sister had even more love to give because she had another darling to bring into the world.  This last daughter, is the one that truly shows me the meaning of the circle of life. She also epitomizes all that is good in a family, wrapped up in one small child.

And thus began the life cycle of the youngest one in my youngest sister’s clan, the little baby girl who had big eyes, loved to coo and smile. This little girl has the temperament I remember her mommy having, from my perspective of the early days.  She is exceptional, her persona is just precious. She is graced with refreshing calmness, no pretense about her.  Always able to have a kind word for others, especially those in need, she was born with a kind soul beyond her years. She is like a breath of fresh air; refreshing and undaunted by the polluted air that surrounds her.   All the positive traits of the family were somehow rolled into one person, this little girl, without her knowledge. As she grows and develops over the seasons she may one day take the world by storm.  I watch for the flickers of reminders of my past; my sister’s and my daughter’s but know her path is a special one.

 

A cycle begins and continues. I am once more watching a girl develop, from afar.  When I see her, my niece, I am awe struck by some of her perfection at such a young age.  When I hear her voice on the phone, I am moved by her eagerness to engage.  When I see her face in pictures, I smile at how she lights up the screen with her willingness to embrace the world. 

Today, on my youngest sister’s birthday, I can’t help but reminisce.  All those years ago, there was this little head of long dark hair on this tiny baby girl. As I tried to sleep  I would wake up to hearing chattering in her bed. She was intent on getting my attention. I remember the times when I would have her out in public as a teenager and she would embarrass me by telling strangers I was her mother.  She was a character and knew how to enjoy life.  I see her youngest daughter going through this teasing with both her older siblings and I have to laugh; we all survive.

The little girl I knew grew up to be a beautiful woman.

The similarities of the life cycle for all of us is really more similar than not.  When I put together the attached video below, it was a trip down memory lane. It is, at first glance, a collection of photos of my niece.   But it is also one of all of us, my sister, my daughter and me.  It shows the similarities of us all; I can see periods in all of our lives through her eyes, my niece’s, her smile and her facial expressions.  But if you look close enough, and focus on the innocence of the pictures, it is a picture of everyone’s memory lane. 

These images recall times in life when the innocence was predominate in our eyes.   They show a child who has a joy of just being in the moment, over and over again.   My niece has a beautiful spirit and soul.  This is a blessing she has that I feel goes well beyond her years.  I too believe she is the one child I have met who will retain it.   I pray she is bigger and better than any of us that have come before her. 

May her images remind you of those moments in your life that you hold dear.  May you see in her eyes your times past that seemed fleeting but are actually etched in your memory. Maybe they just need to be pulled from the back of the closet, dusted off and put in a more prominent spot.   Photo albums are good ways to recapture our innocence.  Reminders of our past are like a history lesson, it helps us appreciate who we are and where we came from.   My niece is who she is because of my sister; I see my sister in every picture of her and her father too.

Though seasons change, and you as well, those memories of your growing up years are at the core of who you are and who you will always be.  

Life has so many rich experiences,

     The total collection must be treasured,
Don’t forget the small everyday moments

     Because their value cannot be measured.

Click here to go to Video Link

Jakob's Time to be Heard

He walked to the front of the church. He stepped on the altar with slow deliberate steps. Just a lone young man, dressed in black, from head to foot, distinguished, good looking with a solemn look on his face which conveyed much more maturity than a teenager should have.  As he approached the podium where the microphone stood, all eyes in the congregation focused on him and he confidently approached the Bible that lay open to the passage he would read aloud to all present.

He leaned forward and began speaking softly at first and then picking up intensity with each word:
To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven;A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, a time to reap that which is planted;A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and time to dance;A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embraces, and a time to refrain from embracing;A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;A time to rend, and a time to sow; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace. 

With every few lines, he viewed his audience, as if willing everyone present to pay heed to God’s word. He seemed to avoid looking at the coffin laying right within his eyesight, almost within an arm’s grasp, perhaps to not let a tear escape his eye.  Those present knew he had a special bond with his grandmother. It was important to this young man, Jakob Coad, his grandmother, Clarice Coad Memorial Mass touch all those present.  They were to be forever changed as her live had forever changed him.

His story was in sharp contrast to his grandmother’s.  Jakob was born in the picturesque  

captivating islands of Hawaii.  Jakob’s parents met, fell in love in a place that is easy to fall

in love and quickly get married on the beach.   Family lived far away so the wedding was small, quaint.   Both parents were from cold climates, his father from Buffalo, NY and his mother from Norway.  Kevin, papa and Mom, Camilla’s live was forever changed on October 22. 1997.  Jakob was to be front and center in both of their lives forever more.

It did not take long, after his birth for both of his parents to feel a sense of longing to be near family so as to share their dear son with kin.  Hence, in 2000, their family of three up and moved to Buffalo, leaving sun and waves for snow and frigid temperatures to be closer to family.   

Jakob never forgot his love of the ocean, the love of

being in  the water in any capacity.   He has taken that love to spending summers fishing and boating in Kokelv,Norway on summer breaks with his maternal grandfather every summer.  He spends this special time with his entire mother's family in Norway in the town she grew up in.  He is multicultural speaking both languages fluently.  This is a special time to bond and acclimate to a completely different culture, a part of his mother’s history. This is important because this is part of who Jakob is.  

What makes this young man unique is his ability to be passive in one sense, quiet and then, when enthralled with something, put everything he has into it. When he took up skate boarding, he is not like most boys, taking up a slight fancy to it. Not Jakob, he put many hours into the sport, trying to be the best he can, and becoming a champion at it.   If he enjoys something, there is nothing that will stop him from pushing himself to the limit.  That trait is admirable and that confidence is what helps make him unique. 

When his parents divorced, he became one of the millions of children that gets transitioned from one home to another.  However, he even seemed to handle this with ease. There was no real conflict in his mind or attitude.  He loves them both  and simply said, enjoys the relationship and the bonding experience with them each individually.  It is almost as if he is mature beyond his years. Yes, it seems as if he always has been, as far back as I can remember. 

He seems to have this innate way of adjusting to both parenting styles with ease.   He draws strength from both parent’s strengths. He tells me he hopes to one day to make something of himself that will make both of his parents proud. I have no doubt that he will succeed in this mission, if his heart is set on it.  He can do the unthinkable if his heart is set on it.  He is just at the age where he is trying still to figure out what that is!  

Summers are spent outdoors in Norway.  Fishing, camping, and enjoying a lifestyle with grandparents that farm is part of the joy of summers spent there. They make a living raising goats and other things different from the culture here in sharp contrast to his grandma in Buffalo that has a career at the University of Buffalo Medical Center. Both exposures are showing him diversities of opportunities in life.   Thus life is full of options.   He is well equipped to know he has choices. 

His grandmother in Norway describes Jakob as kind, caring, funny and helpful.  In a household where she raised nothing but girls, she is touched to find her grandson so

compassionate about other people, interested, and easy going.  He has a natural way and love of animals.  His other grandmother says he is spirited when it comes to sports, fearless and is a great athlete, very determined young man. 

Jakob’s sport of choice right now is wrestling.  His quiet nature and ability to be self-contained and stay focused lends itself to this sport. His outstanding physique is an asset as well.  Intensity on the mat makes him a worthy opponent for anyone. I doubt he is obsessed with always winning. I think Jakob understands more the importance, at the end of the day, of training, physical fitness, and how you play the game.  He admires worthy athletes, the kind that train hard, play fair and have outstanding skill sets.   He is a true sportsman with a fantastic attitude.  Somehow he seems to have had this instilled in his being from a very small age.  

A day before his grandmother died, Jakob came to visit her.  I know it must have been extremely had to stand there and hold himself together. He had spent many days and nights with her at her house while she had been watching him. Many times, she babysat him growing up when his father had him.   Over the years, they had shared so many memories.  Now he stood at the foot of a bed at the hospital, not knowing if she was coming home, probably unsure what to say.  

Being the strong silent type, he did, rise to the challenge and make us all proud.  Beaming from ear to ear as if he had no cares in the world, he gave her his biggest smile and practically shouted "Hello Grandma!"  He told her he missed her and asked how she was.  Yes, he was so friendly, at ease and charming. Bear in mind how hard this was for a young man his age, knowing the state she was in.  How many boys at his age could pull this off?   I think he may possibly be in a class by himself.   She gleamed.   Here was the boy she watched grow up. I recall her looking at him and saying outloud what a good looking boy he was and how proud she was of him.  She smiled so large her eyes literally twinkled. Jakob made her light up.  He has that effect on you when he smiles at you. He is a special person indeed.   

He stayed for awhile with his girlfriend there and we all chatted. I know he didn't want to leave somehow sensing it might be a final good bye but yet knowing it must be done. She needed his rest and he must move on with his life.  Yet, somehow I think he wanted to prolong the visit.  But even Jakob knows all good things some times have to come to an end. But I do believe he knows good things follow also.   And he had given her what she needed, the peace of knowing he was happy and his love.   To her, that was priceless!   She will be on her perch in heaven smiling down on Jakob, I have no doubt, till he joins her one day.   

And Jakob, his future I am joyful to see it unfold over the upcoming years.  It is in his hands.  He is the only thing that will hold himself back. We are all watching, and cheering Jakob on. As they say in wrestling, win the match Jakob, we know  you can.  For truly,  “To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.”  Your time, Jakob, is now. Make the most of it!  The rest of us will be watching, cheering you on. including your Great Grandmother Clarice.