REFLECTIONS

I write these posts for me.  No matter what any of you think, I love my family.  After all, you can't pick your family, so you play the hand you were dealt.  We are your normal/dysfunctional family.  I am the baby of the three M's.  Marty, Marilyn and Monye.  I don't remember a lot of my childhood, so I will try to site a few of the moments that stand out.   When I was in fifth grade I use to run away from school.  I waited for the crossing guard to leave, and off,  I would go.  I would run home and hide behind the red brick barbecue pit, situated on the red patio, shared with our neighbor.  Roofus, Doofus, Shufus, constructed our patio. I have no idea what his real name is.  He did a spectacular job.  I don't know why I did this, other then I hated school.  Needless to say, it drove my parents nuts.  When they got the call from school, I was on the lose again, they would come looking for me.  One time when I was behind the pit, an airplane broke the sound barrier, which scared the daylights  out of me, and I flew in the house.  I don't think I ran away after that.  They took me to the doctor, who told them I was perfectly normal, and that I probably needed a good spanking.  Spanking was acceptable back then. I never got spanked, I got spoiled.   Maybe that's what's wrong with this generation of no respect.  My Baba lived with us and we had a dog named Duke.  I was scared to death of him.  He was a biter.  Life was good.  Neighbors were good.  It was a time of innocence.  We had fun.

When the house went up for sale, my Baba had to go and live with my uncle, until our new house was built.  We had to move into a row house, and live with my paternal grandparents, in the meantime.  It was sad, I heard that years before we moved in, the toaster caught fire and burnt part of the house down.  My Great Grandmother, died in that fire.  She got caught in the upstairs bedroom, and couldn't get out in time.  I still get chills thinking about it.  This was not a happy time for me.  My Baba, who I loved and adored, had to move out, temporarily.  I didn't get along with my grandparents.  They favored my brother, and let's just say, were not very warm and loving to me.

One day my sister went to the drugstore with her girlfriend, and passed out.  She was in a coma for seventy two hours.  It was a very scary time.  The good news is she came out of it, but for me things changed.  They never did find out what happened.  One of those mysteries of life.  Needless to say, because of the uncertainty of the situation, and not knowing if it would happen again, everybody's attention was turned towards her.  My life was never the same after that.  I felt like the lost child.  No, I'm not feeling sorry for myself, it did happen and it did affect my life.

My sister was beautiful. She was second runner up in the Miss Maryland contest.  I was skinny, gawky and had no self esteem.  My sister was the wild child.  She was popular and had many dates.  I on the other hand didn't date until my high school prom.  Actually, I preferred hanging with girlfriends.  Do not feel sorry for me.  I was a late bloomer.  I am perfectly happy with the way I blossomed.

My older brother, is so important in my life.  He has always been there for me.  He helped me through many rough situations in my life.  When he was in his forties he had a major stroke.  I was devastated.   Why do bad things happen to good people?  Thank goodness he came through it.  That is all you need to know.  He calls me every morning at 10:00, after my stock show.  He is my rock.  I love him all the way up to the sky.

I must mention my sister- in- law/sister, Janice.  She was taken way to soon.  She died of cancer.  No one should go through, what she went through.  She never complained.  She was my angel.  I was blessed, to have had her in my life.  She only spoke kind words.  When I asked her what she would come back as, she said a star.  I have seen her.  She is the brightest star in heaven.  Rest In Peace, Janice,  you will always have, a special place in my heart.

My sweet mother-in-law, Bessie.  How lucky can I get.  My father-in-law Morris, what a kind, gentle, man, he was.  Morris died of cancer twenty two years ago.  Bessie lived alone until she was 90.  She took a fall, and we put her in the same Nursing Home as my mother.  They were roommates for a while, until they stopped getting along. We had to separate them.  Bessie (RIP), you showed me love and kindness, and I will love you forever.

As I think back, I realize how much my mother had on her plate.  She was married at eighteen.  Seems like every time my daddy came back from the war, she had another child.  I was a mistake.  One of those diaphragm, gone wrong babies.  I never felt the closeness, her and my sister had, and I regret that to this day.  After my daddy (RIP), died, my mother fell, pumping gas, and was thrown into major dementia.  She probably had beginning stages, before she fell, but we had no idea.  Anyway my hubby and I cleaned out her apartment.  We admitted her to a Nursing Home, after she left the hospital.  In the beginning, the Nursing Home was great, until it wasn't.  We were all like a family.  I went everyday. We even went to the New Year's Eve parties.  Jake was one of my favorites. I loved hearing about his life.  His mind was amazing, he was so sharp and funny.  He always had the best stories.  I was thinking of getting a bed and moving in.  It was hard for me to have a life.  I was totally absorbed in her life.  It was beyond sad, watching her deteriorate.  All she wanted was for me to stay and never leave.  I wrote a book.  It was called Betty And The Bear.  My neighbor/friend Robin did the pictures.  It was about a woman, who went to live in a Nursing Home.  She was really scared, but she had this bear, that would stay with her. When I put her to bed, I would give her the bear, and read her the short story.  I told her, she wouldn't have to be afraid anymore. The bear was there to take care of, and protect her, when I left.  She lived in the first Nursing Home for seven years..  New management came in, and it was a nightmare.  I had to move her out.  No need to go into particulars.  You can believe all the bad stories, you've heard about nursing homes.  I told my hubby, he had my permission to kill me, but never, ever, put me in a Nursing Home.  I moved her to another beautiful home in Ellicott City.  It was a definite upgrade.  They put her in a lock down unit.  That was hard.  She was there two more years until she died.  I was showing a house when I got the call.  My mother was in the hospital again, for a urinary tract infection, which she was prone to.  I said do I need to come now.  The doctor said no, you have time.  He told me he would call me, if I was needed.  I immediately left my client and sped home.  My hubby, needed to eat, so we did.  The doctor said I had time, no problem.  After dinner, I called my brother.  We went to pick him up, and on the way to the hospital, the doctor called.  He said, my mother, had passed away.  No, no, there must be a mistake.  I thought, you told me she had time.  I'm sorry he said, I had no idea this was going to happen.  I will never forgive myself, for not going right to that hospital.  I still cannot believe I was not there.  For nine years, I took care of her, and when she needed me most, I wasn't there.  I cannot stop the rain coming out of my eyes, so I will leave it here.

When you cannot take care of a loved one, and have to put them in a Nursing Home it is very difficult.  There are many emotions you go through.  Nursing Homes are needed, so I don't want to totally, discredit them.  Most people, from what I have been told, don't last nine years in a home.  There are some very dedicated people, that devote their time and love to the patients.  It is a very hard job.  I respect the good and dedicated people, that work in Nursing Homes.  However, there is a element of bad people, that work there, that are not nice to the patients.  I have no tolerance for them.  I have seen things, no one should ever see.  Yes, I have seen patients abused.  There is NO excuse for that kind of behavior.  I applaud the people, who treat their patients with the love and respect they deserve.

And so today I repent for my sins, can't think of any I had this year, and reflect on my life.  I spend so much time, caught up in living my life, I haven't really stopped to think about it.  Writing this blog has given me pause to do that.  When I was younger, it seemed like time stood still.  I remember, Sundays, used to never end.  There weren't as many options, back then.  Most places, closed on Sunday.  As the years went by, that changed.  With the expansion of commerce, more stores, malls, and the inner harbor, opened on Sunday.  As I got older, time seemed to speed up.  It was the weirdest thing, one day I woke up, and realized, I was no longer the newest tool in the shed.  When I first started selling real estate, I was the youngest in the office, and then in the blink of an eye, I wasn't the youngest anymore.  I have no idea how it happened.  I thought I would work forever and then one day, everything changed.  It wasn't the same.  It wasn't fun anymore.  Newer, young people came in, welcome electronics.  The personal touch and camaraderie disappeared.  It was all about the text.  I was lucky to have all of my family, until one day my luck ran out.  In the span of a couple years, I lost my daddy, my sister-in-law, my mother-in-law, and my mother.  All the shopping in the world, could not fill that void.  Nothing seemed quite as special anymore.  It gave me a whole new outlook on life.  Changed my priorities.  Things that used to matter, don't anymore.  Material things have lost importance to me.  I long for and miss the family, the love and personal touch, that was so meaningful to me.  All the, I wish I could have, perhaps I should have, why didn't I, are too late.  I can't sleep.  It's 4:00 in the morning,  I sit at my computer writing away.  I still have so much to be thankful for, and happy about, but at this moment I feel sad and alone.  I find the holidays the hardest.  What used to be a big family, celebrating together, at home, has shrunk to so small, we eat out.  It will never be the same.  Like I said in the beginning of this post, you deal with the hand, you're dealt.  I'm so thankful, for the people who are in my life now.  With the sadness comes a new appreciation, and openness, I have never felt before.  I have grown and changed from that gawky, low self esteem, skinny, little girl.  One correction, I will always be that little girl.  I refuse to grow up.

OK, I think that is enough reflection for one night.  I look forward to whatever new adventures are in store for me.  Until the next holiday, and the next reflection...

EYES

It is said "Eyes Are The Windows To The Soul".  I see your eyes, I feel your soul.  You smile on the outside, but your eyes tell a different story.  I see and feel a lonely emptiness.  I see a dark hole.  I feel your pain and sadness.  I want to help, I know I can't.

It troubles me.  I don't know why.
I feel your torment.  I don't know why.
I feel your pain.  I don't know why.

You, are unrelenting in your goal.
You, are selfless.
You, are so helpful.
You, are kind.
You, are so smart.
You, carry so much on your shoulders.
You, are such a good person.
You, are all about family.
You, are loving.

Know, you are lovable!
You deserve to be loved!

Who are you?
I don't know you.

You are "Dust In The Wind"!


 

THOUGHTS

Perhaps it's me.  I just don't find lewd remarks appropriate when we are being warned about a possible catastrophic hurricane, where most likely, people will lose there lives.  And yet the minute I heard, it will be very wet, I knew the obnoxious, would come out.  Did any of you feel anything for 9-11?  I doubt it.  I think about my days, and my children’s days in school, and I wonder how any of you would feel, if you or your child had been picked on, the way you pick on everything about him.  Some people might find your children as obnoxious as you find him.  He is somebody’s child too you know.  Have any of you ever met him?   Maybe it’s me.  I just hate mean.  Perhaps I am just sad today, because  a friend of mine lost her husband.  Seems like it always happens around the holidays.  Life is so short, it just seems a waste of time and energy to hurt people.  Does anyone remember how to be nice?  I am passionate about my country, not the person running it.  My daddy fought for this country, so when I fight, I fight for him, for his blood that was spilled to protect me, and my family.  I don’t fight to divide.  I fight to unite.

BABA

It's the middle of the night, my eyes pop open, and I started thinking of Jenny (RIP).  Baba lived with us and I was blessed to have been co raised by her.  A lot of you will never get the opportunity to have known a real Bubbe  Like the dinosaur, they have become extinct, and replaced by the Glam Ma, a more modern and updated version, due to plastic surgeons and injectables such as botox.  My Baba, was the most special woman in the world to me, and I will never forget her or how kind she was to everyone.  To know her was to immediately love her.  She never had a bad word to say about anyone.  To her everyone was beautiful.  She had a twin sister Anna (RIP).  The Sun did a newspaper article on them, pictures and all. My Baba always wore a house dress another extinct item.  Weight was never an issue, Bubbes didn't workout.  They were big and beautiful.  I debated whether to write this part, but this is how Bubbes were made.  My Baba's arms hung and so did everything else for that matter, but that's what made her even more lovable, like a big cuddly bear.  I think she is the person responsible for my passion and ability to love.  One night around 12:00 I awoke to some horrible noises.  My Baba was having trouble breathing, my mamma was crying and ran to call an ambulance.  I sat on my Baba's bed, telling her it would be OK shaking.  Then I went outside and waited for the ambulance with my distraught mother.  When we got to the hospital we were escorted into a private room. We were told my Baba didn't make it to the hospital.  I didn't understand what they were saying.  Why couldn't I see her.  Surely they were mistaken.  We all left in a fog, not realizing what had just happened.  I couldn't stop the uncontrollable tears and I don't think I ever will.  Words are not good or strong enough to express what I lost that night.  There will always be a sadness and a yearning for my Baba.  The woman who gave me so much and never asked for anything in return. The last time I visited her grave I went with my cousin.  I do believe people who have passed are still with us.  Just in another form.  While I was talking to her, my cousin was standing next to another tombstone. All of a sudden the tombstone my cousin was standing next to fell over.  Scared the living, out of us.  We didn't know what to do, so we tried to pick it up.  Have you ever tried to pick up a tombstone, don't.  It weighs a gazillion pounds. Anyway, we reported it, and they were going to take care of it.  I know she was there with me that day and she gave me a sign.  Thank you, thank you, thank G-d for you, the true wind beneath my wings!           

Daddy's Little Girl

When I was just a little girl, my daddy used to carry me up and down the street.  I was told he was so proud of me.  I always get melancholy around the holidays.  Unless you have lost a loved one, you have no idea what it feels like.  I have a brother and a sister, but I know I was his favorite.  My brother and sister probably think they were his favorite.

My daddy worked hard to support his family.  He and his brothers owned a towing company.  There was nothing he wouldn't do for us.  I used to sing, and he never missed a performance.  I used to see him standing outside before the shows smoking.  He was just as nervous as I was, maybe more.

It was a different time.  Neighbors used to sit outside in the summer while their children played hide and seek or some other game.  Nobody locked their doors, you didn't have to back then.  In the winter, Gwen, one of my neighbors used to make grilled cheese sandwiches and hot chocolate after we went ice-skating at the pond down the street.  I still remember how amazing those sandwiches were.

There were no cell phones, computers, or electronic games back then.  There were children to play with.  The Forest Theater, Crest, or the Ambassador theater were the places to be on the weekends and I'll never forget the Ben Franklin Five And Dime.  I used to buy my gold fishes there. They always used to jump out of the bowl.  So sad.  There were many toilet burials.

When I got older my daddy used to take me to school in his tow truck.  I made him drop me off down the block, because I didn't want to be seen in a tow truck.  I would give anything to ride in that tow truck one more time.

Sunday mornings were special in my house. Breakfast was always white fish, revelation, bagels, eggs and all the trimmings.  Best breakfast ever!  My daddy loved my children beyond words.  He couldn't have been a better Pop Pops.  I went to see him a couple days ago, before the holiday.  It's all so surreal.  I still can't believe he is gone.  Sometimes, I hope it is a nightmare and I will wake up and he will be there.

Happy New Year Daddy.  Rest In Peace.  I could go on, but you get the message. There are so many special memories.  Now there are so many if only I hads....

Tomatoes

While trying to figure out what I want to do with the next chapter of my life, my daughter suggested that I write a blog, so here I am.  We all have our book of life stories to tell.  I hope you like mine.  My life like every one's has had its ups and downs, but I wouldn't have changed any of it.  Through the good, the bad and the ugly, I feel it has made me the woman I am today.  

There is so much about me that has changed.  I feel so much more open and alive.  I appreciate every day, and love every new adventure and experience.  I feel so very blessed, and a strange excitement about life that is different.  There is a confidence about me I have never felt before. I hope you can follow my analogies and sometimes my subliminal messages.            

When my kidlings came to town for three weeks, they went to the Hair Salon with me.  While we were there, we met and chatted with a nice YOUNG man, who had an adorable dog.  Before he left, he said he wanted to take me to dinner. I had to look around to see who he was talking to. I was shocked, and the first thing that came out of my mouth was, I'm married.  He said that's o.k., bring your husband.  I have no words.  Anyway, I gave him my number and my e-mail address. 

To make a long story short, he texted me, and we met yesterday for lunch.  It was a two and a half hour lunch.  We shared three dishes, and we each got a Berger cookie sundae with two huge scoops of ice-cream and a selection of berries. Don't worry, I had them hold the whipped cream. 

It was so special to hear the amazing life story of this kind stranger.  We talked about everything, including the fact that his favorite tomato was an heirloom.  When the check came, he would not let me pay.  He said, "I invited you!"  Again, I have no words.  We said goodbye, and when I got home there was a text thanking me, for having lunch with him!  Out of all of the beautiful YOUNG (there's that word again) girls in the world, he chose me.  How special to get a break from all the hate and division in the world.  How nice to spend a moment, just one moment in time with a stranger, enjoying a special conversation.

I started thinking about tomatoes after our lunch.  First let me say, when I was a child, there was nothing better then a tomato sandwich.  Very fresh white bread, lots of Kraft mayonnaise, and sliced ripe, sweet tomatoes.  Heaven!  Tomatoes are a lot like people.  There is nothing better then a big, ripe, juicy, sweet, succulent, full-bodied (oh, sorry, that's wine, got carried away) tomato.  But sometimes tomatoes can be deceiving, like people.  They can look so good on the outside, but once you take a bite they can be mushy, or even rotten.  I discard the rotten ones.  But when you find that special tomato, there is nothing like it.  Make sure you enjoy that tomato, because really good tomatoes are rare, hard to find, and oh so flavorful!