I Miss Her

I miss her.

I miss her smile and her laugh.

I miss her sunny personality and her chatter.

I miss her concern and her thoughtfulness.

I miss her.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen her. I drive past her house and pause, saying a prayer that all is well; wishing things were different; hoping for good news.

Life changes in an instant. How often do we hear that phrase? How often do we repeat those words to our children, to ourselves? How often do we say that this time, we will listen and appreciate our lives? How often do we forget?

Such a little thing, that cough, barely noticeable to those around her. Allergies? A lingering cold? Nothing more serious. It couldn’t be.

Cancer? No! She’s too young. She’s got three children who need her. She’s just started back to school – a new career, a new start. Cancer? Really?

Radiation. Yes.

Surgery. Okay.

Chemo? Whatever helps.

Problems? Complications?

What can we do to help? Dinners. Carpools. Prayers. Anything.

How is she doing? I’ve asked that question countless time over these past few months.

Is there anything I can do? Another question posed over and over again to anyone who will listen.

It’s such a helpless feeling – seeing your friend so sick and not being able to do anything; not being able to do enough.

I’ve cooked dinners, written notes, sent texts, dropped off little gifts. I’ve said prayers, offered intentions, added her to prayer lists.

I feel lost. I feel powerless. I feel frustrated.

Then I feel guilty. It’s not about me, after all, it’s about her. It’s about her family. It’s not about me.

So I keep on praying. And I keep on asking for her. And I keep on sending those texts and dinners and notes.

I keep on. Just like I hope she is keeping on. For with life, there is hope.

God Bless you my friend. I miss you.

Life is a Roller Coaster

If there’s one thing I’ve learned these past 40+ years, it’s that life is a roller coaster. You have your highs and your lows, your peaks and your dips, your curves and your straight-aways. Every day is different so buckle up and hold on because it isn’t for the faint of heart.

Anyone with children knows that life with kids is one long, continuous roller coaster ride. They have their ups (they were just invited to a great party or got an A on their latest test) and their downs (they were the “only one” not invited to someone’s house, or they didn’t make a team).

When these events happen, I remind them (and myself) of my little adage: Life is like a roller coaster. I have repeated that saying so many times that even my dogs could recite it. I know that what comes up, must come down. I know that life always gets better. I KNOW all this. So if I know this, why do I climb into that car and ride that rollercoaster with them every time?

Why do I still feel a pang when I look on Instagram or Facebook and see a group of my children’s friends together without my child there? Why does my heart break when I hear my daughter talk of a sleepover that she isn’t invited to?

Why? Because no matter how often my brain hears me saying, “Life is like a roller coaster. There will be ups and downs,” my heart hates those downs when they are happening to my children.

I know adversity builds character and strength. I know that not everyone is invited to everything. I know that life isn’t always fair. But here’s the thing, and it’s a biggie, knowing something and believing and accepting it – all the time - are two totally different things.

It hurts to see your children hurt. It hurts to see that look of disappointment or fear on their face as they come down from that high.

I recently heard someone talk about something that helps ease the pain of those downs. They call them back-pocket moments. I love this idea. Back-pocket moments are those times when something goes really well; when life is good – really good. You know the moments: you just got your first job; the boy you like asked you to Prom; you aced the test you studied for all night. When my kids come home and tell me something that they are really happy about or proud of, I tell them to “put it in their back pocket” so they can pull it out and remember that feeling when life isn’t going well.

Because we all know that, as good as everything might be right now, life changes in an instant. That roller coaster doesn’t stay up continuously. But isn’t that what makes the ride so much fun – those crazy twists, turns and drops? And isn’t that what makes life so interesting?

So I’ll remind myself of these back pocket moments, and I will try and stay off that roller coaster that my kids will be riding. They are “tall enough” now to ride it alone. I will stay on the ground and smile, wave and encourage them as they go up and down, and be there for them when they get off, to give them a hug or a high-five, depending on what they may need.

I will remind them that they will experience many ups and downs in life so buckle up and hold on because they’re in for a great ride.

Resolution Failure

It’s three days into 2014 and I have failed at every one of my New Year’s resolutions!

Three days!

I have very good reasons of course. Really!

First resolution: Diet

Well, as everyone knows, you cannot start a diet on a holiday, which New Year’s Day clearly is. And then an emergency came up with an event I was running and, well, we all know the only cure to emergencies is chocolate. And today, a snowstorm has hit our area. Six inches of snow + five people in the house together (who already spent a lot of time together over Christmas break) + four batches of chocolate chip cookies left over from Christmas + three tubs of popcorn received from neighbors and clients + two wet, smelly dogs equals one cranky momma who is in no mood to diet! Bring on the fudge!

Second resolution: Gym

I AM going to get to the gym, really. It’s just that it’s so crowded those first couple of days after New Year’s that you can’t get near any of the equipment, and then that snowstorm hit and I hate to drive in the snow, and the kids are home from school and…

Third: No Judging

I’m not judging anyone but really, who wears a sleeveless top in January when the wind chill is 4 degrees? It’s not that I care, it’s just that a sweater would be much more appropriate in this weather. I wouldn’t even mention it but, sleeveless? I think someone just wants to show off their arms. But really, it’s none of my business. I’m not going to talk about it again. This is a judgment-free zone from now on (as long as no one wears sleeveless shirts again)!

Fourth: Write more.

I would write more but you see, an emergency came up that I had to deal with, then a snowstorm hit and the schools closed so my family is all home, and there is all this left-over food I need to finish before it goes bad and really, who has time to write?

Luckily, it is only January 3 and I have 362 more days left to make up excuses, I mean make up for my resolution failure.

How are you making out with your New Year’s resolutions?

Christmas Memories

I’ve decided the reason I enjoy Christmas so much is not just the gift giving or the baking or the holiday music. It’s not just the family time or the time off or the hustle and bustle.

Christmas is so special to me because of the memories. More than any other holiday, Christmas conjures up fun times and special moments in my life long gone, but never forgotten.

I remember the family Christmas parties with aunts, uncles and cousins (many of whom I didn’t even know) gathered around the piano singing “Deck the Halls” and “We Three Kings”.

I remember “helping” my dad put up the trains, or platform, as we called it, in the kitchen, assembling tiny houses and arranging miniature people in all sorts of odd configurations.

I remember using that same platform as a fort, hiding under it and dreaming of all the toys I was sure Santa would bring me.

I remember coming home from school and hearing Frank Sinatra and Johnny Mathis belting out “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” and “A Christmas Song” over the stereo.

I remember the smell of chocolate chip cookies as they baked in the oven (and my mom threatening us not to eat them or we wouldn’t have any on Christmas night!)

I remember helping my father decorate the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve, hanging homemade ornaments and stringing gold garland, as my mom readied the turkey in the kitchen.

I remember waking up at 5:00 a.m. and gathering on my sister’s bed, telling stories of Christmas’ past and guessing what time we could safely go down and wake our parents.

I remember rounding the corner and seeing the Christmas tree surrounded by brightly wrapped gifts, and having to wait "patiently" on the steps for my older siblings to wake up.

I remember the excitement of unwrapping each gift, an Easy Bake Oven one year, a Barbie camper another year, always amazed Santa got me just what I wanted!

I remember digging into my stocking and always finding a LifeSavers book, a toothbrush and an orange (always in the heal of the stocking) among other things. (Santa certainly was consistent!)

I remember the disappointment of having to put down all those fun toys for a few hours and going to Mass – the requisite time-out that I’m sure I needed but never wanted!

I remember the anticipation of calling my best friend and running back and forth between houses to see what we had gotten (a practice we still do to this day).

I remember it all – the excitement, wonder, joy and love Christmas brought with it. And for me, THAT is what Christmas is all about.

These days, as a mother, that excitement and joy can be overshadowed by the cleaning, shopping, cooking, wrapping and baking. However, I try and remind myself that I am now making memories for my children; memories that I hope they will hold as dear and close to their hearts as I hold mine.

And so this season I wish you all a Christmas full of fun times, delicious food, family gatherings and precious moments that will carry you through the years.

Merry Christmas to all and to all, Happy Memories!

Thankful

What I am Thankful for (in no particular order):

~1 loving husband, 2 little dogs, 3 growing children
~A warm house
~An extended family that loves to laugh
~My slightly overweight, sometimes achy but overall healthy body
~My still-curious albeit occasionally forgetful mind
~The rich delicious taste of chocolate
~The sight, sound and feel of the beach on a warm summer day
~Books, books and more books
~My warm, comfortable bed after a long, cold, stressful day
~Clean water, electricity and the Internet (taken for granted until they’re suddenly unavailable)
~The privilege of being able to read, think and worship who and what I want
~A new day
~The quiet, peaceful stillness of a sleeping household
~The honor of being a mother, sister, daughter and friend to some wonderful people
~My life – as crazy, chaotic and unpredictable as it is.

Wishing you all an abundance of blessings and joy this Thanksgiving Season!

And so it begins...

My daughter is a senior in high school. *Sigh*

Those of you who have a senior as well, or who have older children, know why I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed, sad, anxious, and stressed these days.

I’ve been through this before, with my son, and yet that doesn’t really matter. I will be going through this again in four years with another daughter, and yet it will still be overwhelming, stressful and sad.

What is “this” you ask? Well, if you must ask then you obviously don’t have a child old enough to be applying to college!

It’s not just the application process that is so overwhelming (although trying to gather and organize the transcripts, SAT scores, letters of recommendations, essays and applications can cause a bit of distress, to say the least).

It’s not just the idea that my daughter will be graduating in nine short months and embarking on a whole new life without me that makes me sad (although coming to the realization that my middle child, the always-smiling, easy-going one, will be moving on to a whole new world with new friends, new opportunities and new experiences does cause me to catch my breath).

And it’s not just the thought of the plethora of bills, tuition payments, shopping excursions and fees that make me anxious (although I am not looking forward to the Bed, Bath & Beyond trip in August to pick up all those necessities, that will cost me the equivalent of one semester’s tuition payment and will come home with me in the car because “who knew the dorm room was so small.”)

No, while all those issues are on my mind and causing me some anxiety and sleepless nights (okay, perhaps more than some), the biggest stress in my life right now is other parents!

Yes, I’m talking to all you parents and well-intentioned adults who just love to talk all about the college application process.

“Ohhhhh, you have a senior.” (Yes. What gave it away? Perhaps the fact that I just told you that, and was not smiling when I said it!)

“What an exciting time for you all!” (Exciting? If you think screaming matches, tears and sleepless nights are exciting, then yes, I guess it is! And my daughter isn’t exactly fired up either!)

“Have you looked at any schools yet?” (Looked at schools? Wow, there’s an idea. I hadn’t thought of that. We were hoping to just close our eyes and point to a school on the map.)

“I’ve heard Ivy League school 1, 2 and 3 are good schools.” (Really? I hadn’t heard that. Well, we’d rather save some money and go to Just-as-Good State Schools 1, 2 and 3.)

“What schools are you looking at?” (Like I’m going to tell you, so you can either: 1 – tell me what a “party” school it is; 2 – tell me how your niece hated that school; 3 – repeatedly ask me if she got in to that school; and/or 4 – shake your head in sympathy if she doesn’t get into that school.)

“My son/daughter (niece/nephew; grandson/granddaughter) has looked at 25 schools, applied to 15 and has been accepted to 10!” (Well good for him/her! Now I can sleep at night!)

We’ve taken to avoiding cocktail parties and sitting by ourselves at sporting events. We tend to smile and nod when college talk comes up, making vague responses such as “Really?” “Good for them!” and “We’re still looking.”

Our standard response when we’re asked about colleges: “There’s a school out there for everyone.”

Now, if it sounds like I’m a bit jaded, you’re right! I was at a party a few years ago when one woman repeatedly pestered a mom about her son, asking her no less than 10 times (I counted) where her son was applying to college. Despite such responses as “He hasn’t decided yet” and “We’re looking around,” this woman would not give up.

Why? Why do we feel the need to pry? It was obvious that this woman did not want to talk about colleges for whatever reason. Why don’t people get the hint?

My son was at a Christmas party during his senior year of high school There was a large group of other kids, parents, neighbors and various random adults there, gathered to celebrate the holiday season.

He told me that an older woman approached his group of friends and asked them where they were going to college. She then proceeded to pick apart each school mentioned, telling them what was good and/or bad with each choice.

Is this necessary? And is it anyone else’s business? Something my mom taught me comes to mind: “If you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all!”

These students are stressed enough (and so are their parents)! If you love(d) the whole college application process, good for you! I’m happy for you (and a little jealous)!

But I beg you, please be aware that not everyone is as happy or excited as you are. Some of us are a bit overwhelmed and anxious about the whole process. We’re concerned about getting into a school, picking the right school, and paying for that school.

If you find yourself talking to a high school senior, or parent of a senior, by all means ask how it is going. You can tell right away if that person wants to talk about it further. Take the hint!

And now, I’m off to College Night (in dark glasses and a baseball cap).

And so it begins…

18 Years

My mom died 18 years ago today.

It was a Sunday evening. I had just turned 29 and was 14 weeks pregnant with my second child.

It wasn’t a complete surprise – my mother had been diagnosed with Leukemia on New Year’s Eve, 1993, eight months after my mother-in-law died of cancer. (1993 was a very difficult year for us, to say the least!)

My mom was told she had six months to live – she survived almost two years. (Obviously the doctors didn’t know my mother - no one told her what to do!)

Despite the fact that we knew she was sick, her death was still a shock for our family. Mom had rallied once and was actually told she was in remission for a few months. As they say, with life there is hope.

While my mom was battling leukemia, my husband and I were facing our own challenge. After suffering one miscarriage, my husband and I had been trying to conceive for over a year. When we were finally given the wonderful news, we hesitated telling anyone until the required three month date, in fear of another disappointment.

We finally decided to tell my family our good news at my birthday dinner. A few hours before we were to meet, my mom called me. In a voice I had never heard her use, she told me she wouldn’t be able to make it to my dinner, she just wasn’t up to it.

I knew. My mom would never miss a birthday dinner for any of her six children. I knew.

When we were initially told our due date by the doctor, I was concerned. It was such a long way away for all of us. But I hoped and prayed that my mom would be there to see her newest grandchild.

With one phone call, that hope was dashed. I knew that wouldn’t happen.

In the bravest voice I could muster, I told my mom “No worries” and that I’d see her soon. Then I hung up the phone and cried, and cried, and cried.

I was torn. What to do? Call my mom back on the phone and tell her I was pregnant, or wait until we were all together again. I picked up the phone and shared my “good news” with her. In hindsight, it was probably the most important phone call I ever made.

The next day, my mother was rushed to the hospital. She died two days later. Had I not told her at that moment that I was pregnant, I know I wouldn’t have had the chance to tell her at all.

Was it the right choice? Yes, I think so. I hope so. I like to think my mom got a little bit of good news amidst her pain. And I know I felt better knowing that, while she may never meet my child, she knew another grandchild was on its way into our family.

As they say, life goes on. Six months later, my beautiful, sweet, easy-going daughter was born. From the beginning, she was a joy. She loved to be held by anyone and everyone and slept through the night at six weeks (unlike her brother). I have no doubt she was a gift from my mother.

I remember looking at my daughter’s face when she was born and wishing that my mom could see her. And now, 18 years later, I still wish that. I do believe my mom is up in heaven watching over us, but it sure would be nice to have one more moment with her, just to “catch up!”

18 years …

I miss you Mom.