Time to Cry Tuesday – Welcome to the Family

This weekend, a young woman made not only the love of her life happy, but his entire family as well.

My nephew – the firstborn grandchild – asked his girlfriend to marry him. Not to get all Sunrise Sunset on him, but this one is huge for me. He was the first little guy to win my heart. The first baby that I held and felt my own blood run through his veins. The first little person that made me stop and think, holy crap, this procreation thing is something I could definitely subscribe to.

My brother and I vowed to not let long distance prevent us from being a big part of each other’s kid’s lives. When they were young, we took the trek back and forth as much as we could, to make sure the kids knew each other. And it worked. The four cousins have a bond that will carry them through a lifetime. And a not so great memory of always having to go to the bathroom on the Staten Island Expressway.

Now the gift of one more amazing young woman has been given to us in his bride-to-be. Corny? Shit yeah! And I don’t care. For she is all I could hope he would find in a spouse. Times 10. The look on his face when he is with her, the way they share their lives already, the respect and joy that you feel when they are around… that is the foundation you dream of for the ones you love.

So, Matt and Carolyn, I wish you a wonderful life together. I love you both to pieces.

Time to Cry Tuesday – Love Ever After

I saw this post on Kickstarter today and it made me cry… because you know, it’s Tuesday. AND Valentine’s Day. Double hit.

A book by Lauren Fleishman, Love Ever After will share the love stories of couples who have been married for at least 50 years. Inspired by a letter her grandfather wrote to hergrandmother during World War II (and rediscovered after he passed away in 2007), she began photographing and interviewing couples in the New York area as a way to preserve their stories and to illuminate our universal experience of love.

After just spending a few days in Florida visiting my parents who have been married OVER 60 YEARS, I do believe in love ever after. Listening to them talk about the way they feel about each other after all these years is the main reason I remain a hopeless romantic. (Yeh, this shot is a killer, right?) I can only hope that Gary will refrain from running me over with his car for the next 34 years so we can hit that milestone.

 

LUVMYWIFE

Is it me? Tell me that no one else sees these things on a regular basis. It is uncanny how they present themselves to me; and so often in the early hours of the morning when Mel and I are walking (note her little paw in the bottom right corner of the photo).

The owner of this van was about to get into it when I stopped him and asked if I could please photograph his license plate (yes I actually asked this time). He sort of smiled sheepishly and told me that women love this. I asked who ordered it, him or his wife and he gave me a sweet little evasive smile.

I sent it to Gary. This was our conversation later in the day:

Me: Did you get my email?

Gary: Yeh.

Me: Funny, right?

Gary: Did you ask the guy if his wife was carrying his penis around in her pocket all day?

Gotta love my husband. Or should I say LUVMYHUSBAND.

Time to Cry Tuesday – Valentine’s Day

Danny at 8 years-old, maybe

Scene: Sitting in a client meeting in the middle of an extremely busy (out of the basement) day.

Phone rings.

Quick glance and my son’s number comes up. I excuse myself for a moment and explain I am concerned as he rarely calls. Texts, sure, but call… this could be serious.

Me: Hey man, everything ok?

Danny: Yeh, sure.

Me: Wassup.

Danny: Just called to say Happy Valentine’s Day.

Time to Cry Tuesday… enough said.

Time to Cry Tuesday – If these walls could talk

Home. It’s more than just a house. Sometimes it is not even the ‘right’ house. Certainly not the dream house. But definitely home. With its drafty windows, ancient kitchen and not enough space… I still take comfort within these walls.

This is the place where the kids came home from the hospital and now come home from college. Where I walked the floors with them as teething, croupy, bronchitis babies and walked the floors again alone waiting to hear that garage door open when they started to drive.

And now this house – that has been so quiet these past months – is starting to come back alive with laundry and the smell of bacon. One kid home, first with a stomach virus and then a with her boyfriend. (21-year-olds get better quickly). And the other kid will be home before Tuesday comes to a close.

Not only have my children been gone, but their friends have been missed almost as much. I cannot wait for the door to open to those man-boys who love yodels and hug me till I almost fall over. Who initial the fruit and leave notes in the cup cakes and whose humor keeps me laughing all night long. I long for a foyer full of big sneakers and the shouting of video games in the basement. I can’t wait to have a late night kitchen full of  young women who want to bake and hear all the plans of the lives they will soon enter when they graduate. I am thrilled to line this house with air mattresses and make breakfast for the masses.

There is now life in rooms that since the summer laid silent. And if these walls could talk they would tell the tales of a family that has grown up here. The years seem to echo in these walls, and as I walk through them things catch my eye that make me smile. For instance, the photo above brings me back 20 years. That would be a drip of Baby Tylenol on the wall in my daughter’s room. We have painted it twice since then, but it would appear that Tylenol trumps Benjamin Moore and it keeps bleeding through. It is a reminder of the strong will she had as a baby that serves her so well as a young woman.

If these walls could talk they would tell you that maybe this family never got to upgrade their house, but they have certainly built themselves a warm, solid place filled with love that they can always call home.

To my beautiful kids: don’t believe what they say…. You can ALWAYS go home again.

Happy Thanksgiving all. May you and your families feel at home no matter where you may be. And may your turkey not be pink when you carve it.

Time to Cry Tuesday – And in the end…

… the love you take is, is equal to the love you make.* – Lennon/McCartney

I heard this today. For perhaps the 1,000th time in my life and yet in the context that it was quoted I had never heard it quite so clearly.

In our busy lives we often forget what is really important. We jump from task to task, place to place, moment to moment without stepping back to just ‘be’. And part of ‘being’ is to make sure that we nurture the people in our lives that need it most.

Hopefully at the end of the day, week, month, year… life; it all evens out.

This Tuesday I would like to try a little experiment. Indulge me, if you will, and make an effort to even things out so to speak. Stop, smell the coffee, the roses or whatever else finds its way up your nose and make sure you let someone know how much they mean to you.

The inspiration for today’s post comes from a woman who touched so many and prompted a son-in-law to utter those lyrics… in the end.

Let it Bea!

*(The End is the final song of  the sixteen-minute medley on side 2 of Abbey Road, the final Beatles album).

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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Will you marry me? (Jordan Feil proposes to Heather Goodman in the NYT!)

Here is something you may not know about me. I am a rabid reader of the Sunday Styles section in the NYT. It is kind of funny for a woman who cares little about fashion and certainly does not fall into the category of a traditionalist.

But the Vows column always gets me. I love to read the stories of the featured wedding. And of course the other couplings always entertain me. ‘The bride is completing her second PhD. in clinical canine psychotherapy (the first being in neonatal brain patterning) while training for a marathon and chairing this year’s most prestigious charity event. Her husband is a hedge fund manager, brain surgeon, olympic medalist who makes jewelry in his spare time and created her engagement ring. All four of their parents are Nobel Prize winners!”

Seriously, don’t any waitresses marry any auto mechanics in New York?

Today, as I finished reading this section I came across the proposal above in the bottom right corner of the page. Yes, ladies and gents, it would appear that Jordan Feil has popped the question to Heather Goodman in the NYT today! I am on pins and needles for her reply. I googled them and so far nothing. How will I find out if she says yes? Heather, please, I beg of you, throw me a comment here.

In case you are wondering, no I have no idea who these people are. But I am a hopeless romantic and I love the whole idea of this. That is if she says yes, of course. If it is a no good old Jordan will be needing a drinking buddy.

This particular proposal gets me all misty-eyed as it falls on the eve of my wedding anniversary. Yes, ladies and gents, May 11th is the magical date that Gary agreed to put up with this crazy bee-otch, in sickness and health, till death do us part. (hoping there is no meat cleaver hiding under the bed, I have been unusually cranky lately with headaches and a sore throat – a terrible patient)

Happy Anniversary Gary! To the man who is always up for any adventure, may you never lose your love of life and spontaneous nature. You are always a good sport and ready to jump into whatever antics I ask you to partake in. Thanks for always being there (especially when there is a dead mouse in the dog food) but mostly for loving me…

no matter what.

More than life itself, baby!

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog.

For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone

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Time to Cry Tuesday – Loss and the 300th post

Yes, this my 300th post. Hard to believe and usually a cause for celebration in the land of blog. But today I am here to write about loss.

And oddly what I have gained. 

It is hard to explain to those who are not part of this world of blogging and Twitter what a true community has been formed through a medium that would seem to be highly impersonal. 

I come from a generation where the openness and sharing of this world can be a bit overwhelming. For my age group privacy was cherished above all and there is a thread of paranoia about having one’s life out in the open. This makes the world of the mom blogosphere a bit foreign at times. But this week, once again, I have seen the power of the social web and what it can do for those in need.

I am fortunate to live in a community that takes care of it’s own in times of trouble. I have known this kind of support more than once and I am in awe when I see that sentiment replicated on the internet – amongst strangers! 

Beyond comprehension, 2 young babies publicly lost their lives this week.

The first, Maddie Sphor was the 17-month-old daughter of a fellow Silicon Valley Mom Blogger. This darling of the internet whose mom, Heather, chronicled her difficult pregnancy, premie birth and fight to thrive has been followed by many through her blog and twitter. This baby’s infectious smile has haunted us all as we try to accept the tragedy of her sudden death. Within hours funds were set up to help the family with expenses, over $30,000 was raised for March of Dimes and walks in her name were organized. 

One by one, twitter avatars turned purple in Maddie’s memory to show support for her family. These past few days those haunting purple avatars have shown me how much I have gained from the experience of the social web. 

As if this were not awful enough, just days later Thalon Myers, the 4-month-old son of another momblogger lost his life. 

The unthinkable. 

And yet from all misery comes good. The legacy of these families will live on as evidence that humanity is not lost.

As proven during the tragic plane crash that almost cost the Nielson’s their lives, and the overwhelming outpouring to find a kidney for The Domestic Diva‘s daughter, the social web shows us once again that we are made up not of nameless faces banging the keyboard.

We are all people. Sometimes acting more human than you could believe possible.

Love, prayers and thoughts to the Spohrs and  Myers families. May you find a shred of peace in knowing that the world grieves for your loss.

Time to Cry Tuesday – Lifelong Friends

I collect people.

Seriously. I have people in my life for decades. I always thought this was common, as my husband does too, but I have come to realize that most people are not fortunate enough to have friends in their lives that they have known since they were young.

Me? I still have my best friends from 7th grade. Three of them. I was late to the party as they have known each other since kindergarten. They are the place I go when the world is too much. Or when I want to laugh to the point of tears.

I can be 16 with them, when being 16 is completely out of the question because 4 of our collective 8 kids is older than that already. They will never tell me what I want to hear, but they will surely tell me what I need to.

There are code words and phrases that we share like a secret language – or twinspeak. Our own intimictionary of vocab that would have an outsider shaking their head trying to figure out what we are talking about.

Months can go by with little contact, no more than a passing “I would freak but i don’t have time” kind of conversation. But still our love for each other is undying.

The decades pass. We fall, we get up, we live to the point of tears and then we trudge on thinking that if we have to live one more day of this crazy life we will surely scream. Then we stop and spend some precious time together. And laugh so hard we forgot that was possible. 

That is when I realize I am the luckiest person on earth. Not one but three! Each of whom would drop everything at a moment’s notice to be THERE. Wherever and whatever THERE is. And believe me, THERE wears many costumes.

Three words for you girls:

Love. Love. Love.

(and no Ali, we did not have any fun without you this weekend ; )

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog.

For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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Time to Cry Tuesday – Three Mugs

We have these three wonderful mugs in our house. I am not sure why we bought a set of only 3, but they strike such a beautiful balance that it seemed ok. 

Gary loves the shape of these mugs. He loves their size and how the handle is perfectly formed. Mostly he loves that he can drink his *earl gray with honey* in a mug big enough that he does not need a refill (anyone who has ever eaten with my husband is surely smiling at this comment). This drink is like a religious experience for him. 

I was quite sure he never looks at which mug he grabs. He only cares that it is one of these perfect sage green ones. As a little test I asked him tonight what the three green mugs said. “um, joy?” No sorry, hon. “peace and love?” good call. “happiness” forget it babe. Do you care which one you drink out of? “yeah,right!”

I bought them for both their form and their decoration. These three words seemed so perfect.

Success. Peace. Love.

I love words. I guess those of you who read me regularly know that. I have words pinned up to bulletin boards, etched in rocks, inlaid in mosaics, stuck to the fridge, you name it. There is something comforting in being surrounded by them. 

So it would seem fitting to drink out of a specific one of these word mugs as my mood changes. This makes sense if you are insane in the same way that I am.

Success. In these crazy economic times, especially after waking to the unsettling morning news, I drink my coffee out of  Success, figuring I need all the help that I can get.

Peace. During times of turmoil, both global and personal, I will reach for his mug and hope that it will calm me to drink from it. I usually drink tea from Peace. 

Love. When I miss my little girl or right after I watch my boy walk out the door as the man he is becoming, I drink from the Love mug. It reminds me how lucky I am to have built this beautiful family. 

In a world gone crazy, at a time when nothing seems within our control, it is nice to keep small rituals that feed your soul.

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog.

For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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