Places

Some places just feel different. Many people don't like to visit hospitals or people in them. I can understand how funeral homes and cemetaries feel different than other places. Chuckie Cheese can be paradise or hell depending on how the consumer feels entering this wonderland.

When I say that some places feel different, I am referencing something a bit out of the ordinary. The place gives you a strong and unusual feeling that you don't really expect. For example, I got a strong sensation of sadness the moment I entered Graceland's foyer. I haven't been able to explain the meaning behind it, but it was as if a blanket of someone else's feelings wrapped itself around me. I got a similar, but not as strong feeling, one time when we were looking to buy a house. Again, it happened the moment I entered the door. Later, I learned that the couple who lived there were splitting up, but I don't think that was the reason for the sad feeling. It seemed to come from something else. What? I dunno.

Walking around Stonehenge one January day gave me a feeling that some important type of ceremonial happened there. Well, duh...you might say. But it gave me a regal, but scary sensation. It felt like I was walking on some kind of revered place and it was okay that I was there. Strange, though. When I visited Cancun I climbed INSIDE a Mayan pyramid to see a treasured jaguar statue. We made our way up a crowded tiny stairway in the dark. I'm sure my claustrophobia was working that day because I could hardly breathe. As soon as I got to the tiny spot where the statue was, I had to run away. The overwhelming feeling of some kind of violence or hatred broke through my claustrophobia and sent me flying back down the crowded stairs. You can bet I won't go there again.

Am I weird or what? Has this kind of thing ever happened to you?

I remember talking with someone who visited the Holy Land and spoke of how he felt he was walking inches off the ground at some of the holy places. I'm sure this is why people go on pilgimages, but that seems to be centered on their faith, not some gut feeling when you walk into a room.

As my husband complains of every so often, I enjoy visiting writers' homes. After I drag him through a few, he has enough. I can't get enough, especially if the place has period furnishings. Perhaps I like the feeling of kinship, or maybe I'm just hoping that something will rub off on me.

Strange, isn't it?

Monday Musings

Well, I knew that my emotions were in for a rough ride this holiday break. I am thankful for everyone's thoughts and prayers.

Our Emma perhaps put it best after her Nana's Anniversary Mass: "I wasn't ready for Nana to go."

Neither was I, Emma. Neither was I.

I want to especially thank Cindy, Tom, Marilyn, Stan, Joe, my husband and children for supporting my sister and I, and of course, my Dad, through this emotional experience of a one year anniversary. I am so blessed that they are in my life.

Love never ends, you know. It might change a bit, but it never ends.

We all went to Norm's to eat after Mass. They have great Sicilian pizza if you are interested.
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I want to write a story about the Mintz/Calderoni Mary Statue. John, if you are reading this, we have to get together at your sister's place soon.

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I also have been wrestling with an idea about "Time-Turners" right before I go to sleep. I'm writing this idea down here so I don't forget about it.

Gotta get back to grading papers. Over and out.....

Flushing

Well, it's officially Thanksgiving Break. Dreams of Macy's balloons, drumsticks, and a ride on I78 are floating about our heads. Thank you for Thanksgiving.

The girls and I went to see Flushed Away and enjoyed the film quite a bit. Emma makes a sound exactly like the cutie-wootie slugs in the film. She entertained us all the way home. If you get a chance to catch this fun movie, please do. I haven't enjoyed a CG movie more than this one.

Many movie critics are complaining that there are too many animations on the screens now. The movie profits are up, and they are complaining? Interesting. I like to read reviews, but I often take them with a grain of salt.

Dare I say that I despise many of the story lines in many popular movies? If I can guess what's going to happen next, why should I pay to see it? If I retch from the gruesomeness, I refuse to pay. If the piece is just a bunch of car chases and bedroom scenes...heck, I live in Reading, man. I don't need to pay to see that 'cause I can just turn on the TV or go to the mall and see it!

Sometimes I like movies that make me think, or transport me to another time or place, or make me laugh...really laugh. Make some more of those. Make some more movies that my kids and I will both enjoy.

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Please keep Tony's cousin George in your prayers. He suffered injuries in a car accident and may take several months to recover. Also please pray for Adam's friend's fifteen year old son who has life-threatening cancer.

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Thank you, Lord, for all the good things around us. Protect us from the bad ones.

Is It Thanksgiving Break Yet?

After Monday, I'll have a little time off for Thanksgiving. THANK YOU!!!!!

I have so many things to do right now, I find myself forgetting all sorts of mundane things that I don't normally forget. I told my 8 am class I must've left their corrected papers somewhere else, and guess what? I HAD THEM WITH ME! I tried to call my in-laws and I called Stan. I guess I'm just off my groove a bit. Some yummy roast turkey and a day or two without driving to school sounds like the antidote.

Yesterday, we went to a Boy Scout Pack Meeting. Sorry, but I don't really enjoy Boy Scouting. The leader needed to speak to "the parents" while the boys watched a movie. He lectured us about all the things he wanted the pack to participate in. He handed out a list that included activities at least two weekends a month for several hours at a shot. He lamented about how no one was interested in skiing. Then...here's the kicker, folks. The leader said that we all needed to volunteer more, and that he needed us to take over the running of one of these many activities. Hello? This guy just announced that he'd like the boys to sing Christmas Carols on BCTV on Dec. 20! Nobody wanted to do it, but he cajoled the kids and parents. Now he wants somebody who doesn't want to do this activity to "step up" and run it.

My eyes involuntarily rolled during this evening. I've been trying to stop that because it is so rude. Why do control people feel the need to tell me what family activities I "need" to choose to do? My son likes to "hang out" with his Boy Scout buddies. Does this mean that B.S.A. runs my life? Sorry, pal, but the answer is a loud, resounding, eye-rolling NO!

Whew, that felt good. Thanks for listening to my rant. I have three kids in different activities, so I needed to vent.

Elena marched in the Reading Holiday parade today. Emma and I enjoyed watching it. Tony and Tony are...you guessed it...with the Boy Scouts at the Jesuit Novitiate marching around. Now the girls and I are hanging out at home, getting ready to go see "Flushed Away" for some comedy relief.

Keep smilin'. Five more days to Turkey Day. Yahoo!

Hot Anger and Cold Anger

Hey, Angry People. Did you know that anger can be bad for you? No surprise, I suppose. A recent study has shown that one is more at risk for a heart attack or stroke or any other number of serious health problems for up to two hours after an angry outburst. I'm guessing that this doesn't mean when you raise your voice a little. I'm talking about a flat-out "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore" rampage of at least a few minutes or more.

Some people are more predisposed to anger than others. These are the people who really need to watch it, as the more outbursts you have the greater risk to your health...seventeen times greater, as a matter of fact. Wow.

Yeah, we should be angry about injustices in our time, but having a fit about it doesn't help anybody. Auntie Helen always used to remind us that "you'll catch more flies with honey than with vinegar." She was right.

These kind of outbursts are called hot anger. Cold anger is another thing altogether.

All anger comes out of not being able to control a situation or be in control of a situation. Cold anger is more of a passive-aggressive form of an angry outburst. Cold anger is when you refuse to speak to anyone for a day or even the rest of a lifetime. Cold anger is all about your inability to forgive.

Cold anger probably eats away at your soul or mind for a much longer period than hot anger. It can be just as damaging to your physical and mental health. The only thing we really can choose to do in this life is to forgive others and hope for forgiveness from others.

How many families won't have a relaxing holiday because of both of these types of anger? How many people will be subjected to hot and cold anger just today....or just this hour or minute?

A wise person told me that when you make a mistake or discover what you did got someone upset, apologize. Apologize once. You don't have to spend the rest of your life apologizing. Sometimes people are not willing to forgive. Forgetting is another matter than forgiving, too.

Learning how to deal with anger, both yours and another's, might be a great area to explore. Think about it.

Cruisin' For A Bruisin'

Okay, Okay...I admit it. I read The National Enquirer now and again as a guilty pleasure. I grew up reading copies hanging around my house or relatives' houses, so maybe I'm trying to recapture my youth...I dunno. Do I truly truly care about celebrities more than other people? No. I just like to think they deserve the harassment in some cases.

It would be great to use fame to inspire or teach, to do some good in the world. Unfortunately, not too many famous people believe that is part of the agenda they call their lives. I know many un-famous people who inspire me greatly. You probably don't know them, but these people could be sitting next to you.

That brings me to poor, mixed-up Tom Cruise. I won't even harp on the fact that he left a seminary and ended up believing in some kind of science fiction movie as a higher power. I think it would be petty to mention the lifts he wore in his shoes. Couch-jumping isn't one of my favorite spectator sports, so we won't touch on that.

I enjoyed Top Gun and despised his version of War of the Worlds. His need to control everything within his reach puzzles me. I hope that his children will be able to cope with this aspect of his personality.

Now...onto the wedding...I can't help but wonder if it's all real. A fairy tale Italian castle notwithstanding, I have to point out that a wedding needs to be between two EQUALS. I'm afraid Cruise's intended is a bit too brainwashed right now to make a healthy choice. I want to be like that robot in Lost in Space that runs around yelling "Danger, Danger, Will Robinson!" Oh, wait...her parents have already done that. Sheesh.

I'm sure that we will be entertained with wedding details soon by the ever-alert media. (Psssst! Wanna know a secret? We don't care anymore. We're sick of the antics and gimmicks and gimmes.)

Now, excuse me. There's an inspirational story outside the window. Gotta go.

When Was the Last Time You.....

When was the last time you

danced just for the heck of it?

smiled at the red sky at morning?

waved at a baby in a shopping cart?

read a good book?

jumped in a pile of leaves or snow?

stepped in a pile of ....you know....?

ate with your fingers?

thanked a doctor, nurse, teacher, priest, rabbi, soldier, policeman?

sang without the car radio?

made an animal friend?

helped someone across the street?

held your tongue when you really really really wanted to say something?

gave a gift to somebody you didn't know?

left a coupon in the store?

enjoyed a cuppa (tea, coffee, hot chocolate) in front of a fire?

played with your kids?

hoped for the best?

If you didn't do any of these things in the past week, what HAVE you been doing?

Just curious....

Grandmother's Gift

Before I was born, my father's mother died at the age of 28. He was an only child and undoubtedly close to his mom. He obviously was the apple of her eye--she even entered him in a beautiful baby contest! (I know this because of a copy of the application was found not too long ago.)

My grandmother's beauty is remarkable and quite clear in the many photos of her. From what I've heard over the years about her personality, that was quite beautiful, too. I know that my life would have been very different if she was alive when I was born, but that was not meant to be.

I share my first name with my grandmother. What's interesting is that she CHOSE her name. She was born with the name Mary or Marianne, with the middle name of Branislawa, which I think is quite striking. I guess this wasn't American enough for her, so she became known as Mamie or Marie. Her vibrancy comes through in her name choices and the stories left behind.

By the time she met my grandfather, both of her parents were deceased and one of her older sisters was named as her guardian. I know this because of the copy of my grandparents' marriage application I found at the Luzerne County Courthouse. If you think life seems short now, think about how it was early in the twentieth century...much much shorter.

My grandfather's sisters, Helen and Josephine, adored Marie and they were fast and true friends. Her generous spirit, ready laugh, and passion for life charmed them all. Marie's sister soon became ill with the scourge of the time: tuberculosis. Marie cared for her through her illness, and sadly contracted the disease herself. My father, although he didn't totally "catch" it, still tests positive for tuberculosis. Her love for him probably saved his life; I can't imagine why he didn't succumb from the illness, other than she protected him.

The journey of Marie's illness will be left for another time. My grandfather's grief over her death will also be left for another time.

Marie gave what little jewelry she had to Helen and Josephine, with a promise to pass on to her grandchildren, if she had any. These two sweet women kept that promise...and more. They passed on her memory, her spirit, her story, her legend. All of these I hold in my heart, and pass on daily to many others, especially my children.

According to my definition of a saint, my grandmother is a saint. She lives on through my children. There is no greater tribute than that. There is nothing sweeter than that.

Do You Hear That?

I can feel my ears relaxing...do you hear that? That's right! My phone isn't ringing, my TV isn't yelling, my mailperson's load is lighter, the newspaper is a bit thinner, the signs are disappearing. Could it be? Yes, it is...the end of the election.

It's interesting to observe elections year to year. This year was more annoying than interesting. Who knows? Maybe I'm just getting older and less patient.

I'm always glad when different parties have little pieces of the power to govern. That kind of situation makes the economy better for the middle class because sheer numbers of opinions need to be considered.
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Helicopter Parents

I read an article in the Reading Eagle yesterday that once again bemoans Baby Boomer parents. It seems that some parents are contacting children's employers during the interview or performance review process. EGADS!! I'd be SOO embarassed if that happened to me. My theory here is that these parents are the "children" of the sixties, where shouting loud was considered a good thing. Now these same people feel the need to carry on this grand tradition by taking over their children's lives.

This kind of action is training kids to be passive. That is not a good option.

At the same time, though, I have to say that maybe my theory is wrong. Maybe these parents are simply "enablers" and there are such people in every generation. I know people in their thirties and forties who have mom do the shopping for them, or buy all the food/drinks for parties at the kid's house. Other people financially drain their parents or grandparents and that's still not enough for their dreams.

That's not good, either. Children do need support from their parents throughout their lives. Don't create a monster that always yells "Feed me" at every turn...whether that feeding is emotional, financial, material or whatever.

Emma puts it best....she must have heard it somewhere in her six year old travels...."Be nice to your kids. They'll choose your nursing home." She picks up the darndest sayings. Six going on thirty....

Enjoy your piece of the silence today.

Thinking About Thanks

On November 23, Thanksgiving Day, I'll be one year without my mom. It's hard to believe that the time has passed so quickly. I am still working through the grieving process.

Every year at the anniversary of my brother's death, I donate a book he would have liked to the library at St. Ignatius Loyola, where my kids go to school. It keeps him alive for me, when I worry that I can't remember how his voice sounds. Sometimes I donate books in the name of other folks who have passed on, too. These donations are joyous ones...What I mean is that to be able to do this brings me great joy. Kids (and sometimes adults) get to read a cool book, and I get to remember the people I love who are no longer here with me.

I haven't done that yet for Mom. Why? I don't think I can do it without still grieving. I don't think I can hand the book to the librarian with a smile on my face instead of tears in my eyes.

My kids have come up with a different, but time-revered way to remember their beloved Nana. They light a candle for her almost every Sunday at church. Sometimes they'll add a small request to their prayer before meals (God, please keep Nana safe with you in heaven. Tell her I said hi and I miss her.)

I know a family who keeps a lit candle on the table at every holiday, signalling a loved one who has passed on. Another family participates in special "walks" to raise money in a loved one's name. Almost every day, I see memorial notices in the newspaper. Someone in my neighborhood planted a memorial tree, another a rose bush. Somebody else cut a tree down and saved the wood to burn in the fireplace.

People leave items in caskets or on tombstones. Cups of coffee, cigarettes, balloons, chess sets, leather jackets...you name it, it's probably been used as a memorial somewhere.

Right now, I pray for Mom, but mostly I still miss her...a lot. Maybe at Thanksgiving I'll set an extra place and put one of the drumsticks on the plate...or I'll pass out CowTales Candies or burn a scented candle. That'll be one step in the right direction of grief.

Grief is no stranger to me, as I've been through more than enough traumas and dramas. I'll find a joyous place within this grief someday, but not real soon. I can't seem to say good-bye or even see ya later.

We're having a memorial Mass for Mom the Saturday after Thanksgiving at Holy Trinity in Wilkes-Barre. Mass starts at four. I'd love to see some familiar, friendly faces there. Wherever you are celebrating your Thanksgiving holiday this year, try to remember Mom in a prayer, and I'll be grateful.

Robocalls and Other Such Nonsense

Am I the only person who despises these taped announcements from candidates? I think not.

I don't like stopping what I'm doing and running for a phone when I am helping the kids with homework, grading papers, watching a TV program I haven't TIVOed, or taking a shower. The past few days I know that when my Caller ID says the call is from Wyoming, that I don't need to answer it in a hurry. Problem is, that call is then transferred to my answering machine, which I must erase.

Awful convenient that these calls are considered exempt from the do-not-call provisions...

How about those well-meaning folks who volunteer their time to support candidates outside of polling places? They hand me more campaign advertisements, as if I haven't seen or heard enough already, as I walk in the door. I just throw the things in the convenient trash can inside the door, along with everybody else's discarded advertisements. Tony approaches this differently. The candidates that he supports get their cards handed back to them, and the candidates he doesn't support get their cards trashed. Yikes...what a waste of time and effort.

If I were a candidate and I could afford it, I'd print my stuff on packets of oatmeal. At least I could lower some cholesterol or feed some birds that way. Yeah, I know some candidates use emory boards, pencils, pads or balloons, but oatmeal is so practical! If you are really concerned about your constituents, why not consider their overall health?

Maybe robocalls could be used to help folks too. For example, the phone could ring when a pollster comes to the door. Or maybe some tape machine in Wyoming could remind me to lock the door or fill the car with gas or get apples at the Giant. The calls could keep my animals from feeling lonely without human voices when I am at work. "Hello, Eliot, Lucky, and D.V. This is Blah Blah and I'm running for PA Governor. Are you good boys? The kids'll be home soon, so enjoy your peace and quiet...Oh, and have a nice day."

Ah, yes, it's election day.

Happy Birthday to my sister! Don't work too hard today, dear....and keep smilin'.

Jury Duty

I fulfilled my civic duty today and reported for jury duty. Luckily, we were dismissed before lunch, as the defendant opted for a bench trial rather than a jury trial...thanks, whoever you are.

While waiting in the Jury Assembly Room we were subjected to a few hours of Fox News...most about the upcoming election tomorrow. One man actually said something like, "No wonder he said his party is ahead in the polls...if I were in his position, I would say the same thing the day before an election." Ugh...I guess we've sunk this low. This guy (who shall remain nameless and partyless) actually admits not only that he thinks somebody else is lying (no news flash there), but that he would lie if he were in that position.

I'm glad that some of the other potential jurors persuaded the staff to hit the off button on the TVs. We were all so sick of it after a while.

I got home in time to take Emma out to our favorite Mexican restaurant for lunch. By now, her class should have received their report cards via the parental conferences. Emma also got to take a trip to the post office to mail her Aunt Helen's birthday presents. She dutifully told the postclerk that it was going to the Poconos and described Aunt Helen's birthday gifts and card. What a cutie! She even wished the package a good trip to Aunt Helen's house.

Don't forget to vote tomorrow...and be an informed voter. It's our only chance. Reports from Fox News this morning indicate that although the economy is good, and unemployment percentages are low, the middle class is being squeezed by rising costs and inflation...DUH! The report continued that the economy is good if you are a major corporation or among the top 1% of wage earners. It reminded me of the situation before the Great Depression. The greedy ones at the top refused to allow a penny out of their tight grasps...then BOOM! Sigh. Doesn't anybody pay attention in history class?

I usually enjoy election night coverage. I'm not so sure I'll watch this year. Too much blathering for me.....

Well, enough for Civic Duty...I've got essays to grade, dinner to cook, and wrestling practice for two hours this evening. Ciao.

Watching Fulton Sheen

Somehow, I ended up watching a segment of Sheen's show last night on TV. This black and white clip from the early fifties intrigued me. I wanted to see how much the world changed in fifty years. Sheen talked about building character. Two of his "rules" were to believe in the best in others and the worst in yourself. Interesting.

I try to look for the best in others...I think we all do. Is this applicable today? For the saintly, yes. It is an admirable goal. Most of us are highly distrustful of "others" and often look for flaws that could easily rationalize our writing that person out of our lives. It's a self-defense mechanism in a world full of chaos. What Sheen had to say is applicable to our lives today in that we could use his character building rules in reference to people we know well. That seems safer somehow, doesn't it? For example, how about that cousin with the alcohol or drug problem....that person has good in him or her and you have a past relationship, possibly a good past relationship. You can't "write off" this person because of the problem, but you can enhance the good of the person in that person's presence and to other people.

Looking for the worst in yourself is something all of us do every day. Many people can only see the worst in themselves. We are important in helping all of those around us to build character. Think of that the next time you hear some gossip about somebody. I don't want to hurt anyone who already hurts enough.

Overall, I enjoyed the minutes spent with the earnest possible saint last night. He gave me a picture of how the world was and how the world is...Sure, I have to admit I snickered a bit as he lectured with his blackboard and his fancy vestments, but he won over my heart. He truly tried to help his audience and was/is an effective communicator.

God bless Fulton J. Sheen. I am sure I witnessed a future saint in action.

Saints and Souls

Today is my fifteenth wedding anniversary! I am grateful to have a partner in marriage like Tony. God sure blessed me the day I met him.
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Yesterday was All Saints Day and today is All Souls Day. I want to know if anybody up in heaven has seen a St. Catherine running about...or a St. Jack...or a Saint Michael or...well, you get the picture. Pray for All the souls and ask the saints to help!

I wonder how one becames a saint...in heaven, I mean. I know there's very strict rules here and the process is a lengthy one. Do you think it's the same way in heaven? How many miracles are necessary and/or are miracles necessary?

I remember reading somewhere about a woman who prayed for her deceased mother every day for seven years. She stopped praying after seven years because she figured her mother was now in heaven. How did she come to that number? Where did that idea come from? What happens to the prayers if the mother, say, gets to heaven after only four years?

I dunno. I don't think anybody knows for sure, so I'll just keep praying and hoping that those prayers get applied properly. I'm sure there's an angel assigned to that very task. Just don't ask me which choir the angel is in....I'm confused enough about that as it is.

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Emma is looking forward to Friday and Monday off from school. The first-graders' parents get report cards handed to them personally at pre-arranged conferences. Sheesh. I'm sending Tony to Emma's...I'll let you know how he does, as I'm sure Emma will have a stellar report card. Elena is participating in Decade Day at Holy Name today. She went to school wearing a poodle skirt. Tony Mickey is a tad disgruntled about the switch to the winter uniform this week. He doesn't like having to wear a tie. I'm hoping that someday the polo shirts would be allowed year round, especially with the trend toward casual dress in workplaces. Oh well, he looks cutie-wootie either way.
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