The Peter Pan Story

 

I was about 5 or 6 years old when my paternal grandfather passed away… he wasn't that old, maybe 58 or 59. I really didn't understand at that time that I would NEVER see Pop again. At his wake (my Dad was Jewish through his mother, not his dad), I had no idea what was going on – and I snuck into the room at my aunt's house where the coffin was, climbed up on a chair, and tried to wake my grandfather. I was shaking him in the open coffin when it was discovered where I was. My aunt scolded me and stopped suddenly; I saw tears in her eyes. My parents took turns holding me and explained that Pop wasn't going to wake up.

 

I wasn't allowed to go to the funeral, I think a neighbor watched my sister and me. My sister (5 years older) gently tried to explain about death and its finality, I think I began to catch on. But when my parents came home, I saw Daddy crying – I didn't think that fathers ever cried. That's when the explanations my sister tried to tell me really hit me… and I was terrified.

 

Daddy wiped his tears, held me, and asked why I was so scared. I told him in my own juvenile way that I realized that growing up meant that our parents would die. I knew that my Mom's father had died long before I was born (I'm named for him) and that reinforced my terror. I cried long and hard on my Dad's shoulder while he tried to comfort me. I kept on yelling that I didn't want to ever grow up.

 

Daddy hugged me, his arms were always so strong and safe, and he asked me if my name was Peter Pan. I stopped crying and looked at him, I had no idea who Peter Pan was. He told me that Peter Pan was the boy who never wanted to grow up. I told Daddy that I agreed. He chuckled.

 

We sat in his chair, he put me on his lap, and he told me, it's true, as we get older, we often lose those who are older than us. Daddy said that's the way it's supposed to be, and then he told me that even though losing people sometimes hurt, he would never change a thing because growing up also meant that you would meet new people and have families of your own. Daddy said that if he and Mommy hadn't grown up they never would have met, and they never would have had "the most beautiful daughters" in the world. And he told me that even though he and Mommy would one day leave this earth, he knew that we would both find others to love and maybe even have our own beautiful children.

 

Daddy died a little more than 17-years after he lost his own dad. My sister had already married and had a son, a grandson who was the pride and joy of both of my parents. I had also gotten married to a man I loved so much. Mommy and Daddy were thrilled with both of their daughters and the "sons" we had brought them. During the days after he passed, I heard Daddy's voice, ACTUALLY HEARD IT, telling me that he was glad I had decided not to be Peter Pan and he was excited about the life I would live.

 

Although my husband and I lost all 4 of our parents just a few years after our marriage, I still feel blessed. Today, more than 46 years after marrying the love of my life, we have two beautiful grown children, a daughter and son, and two wonderful in-law children. We've had adventures and many joys. My sister and her husband had a second son, two daughters-in-law, and 4 grandchildren… and their first GREAT grandchild was born shortly before my sister died.

 

We grew up, and just as Daddy told me, I wouldn't change a thing. I am so glad I wasn't Peter Pan.

 

What does FAMILY mean?

 

Family is more than just a biological connection. It's love and friendship, it's being there when you are needed… and sometimes when the other person doesn't even realize how much they need your comfort and support.

There's the nuclear family, the one you are born into, usually parents and children. Sometimes you are born into the hearts of your parents (adoption). When you are little, this family seems to be your whole world. If you are lucky there are aunts and uncles, cousins, maybe grandparents… As you grow your family takes on other forms, a marriage, your own children, in-laws, and sometimes close friends.

So how do you cope when the people you count on to be there for you as family turn their backs? How far do you push when the other person has no interest in BEING family? It's never easy to close the door on someone you called family, sometimes though they leave you no other options.

I have friends who have been abandoned by those they thought would be there for them in times of turmoil and it's sad. They've told me stories of being excluded from these people's lives and sometimes even getting arguments because they didn't acknowledge an event that they were never even told about.

Sometimes a person whom you accepted as family (maybe they married in) and continued to think of them that way even after the actual blood connection has been lost, may feel the need to "divorce" themselves from that side of the family. It's heartbreaking to lose yet another family member, but there is really nothing you can do about it.

Cling to those who hold you dear and don't waste time on those who seem to have simply forgotten you. Focus on the people who surround you with love and caring, and who allow you in when they need some love and caring as well. THAT is your family.

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Authority Figures

If you’ve ever felt paranoid when a police car is driving behind you EVEN IF THERE ISN’T A RULE IN THE BOOK THAT YOU ARE BREAKING, then you are having the most typical reaction to authority figures.

 

FACT: “People on average will obey authority despite their own moral objections.”

 

I laughed the first time that I read that statement. Way back in 1977 I got an early morning call from my sister telling me that my dad had died suddenly. He had been at work in New Jersey, she was on her way to the hospital to do the legal stuff of identifying him. Meanwhile our mom, at home in the Bronx NYC, was sick and the police officer who delivered the news to her had told my sister that he was worried about her condition.

 

I was in Rockland County, NY, at least 40-minutes away and it was a miserable, rainy day. Nonetheless I got into the car and I knowingly did much more than the posted speed limits. (I was remembering a story of my dad rushing home because mommy wasn’t well and he actually received a police escort across the George Washington Bridge… I guess I was hoping for the same advantage) Maybe it was because of the weather, but no one stopped me so that I could ask for an escort.

 

 What really struck me as odd, and now in retrospect actually makes me chuckle, was when the coins I threw into the Tappan Zee Bridge hopper didn’t register, and instead of my just peeling out and hopefully attracting a police escort, I sat there honking my horn until the toll-taker a few booths over manually reset the light. I could NOT bring myself to go through the stop light even though I was certainly breaking the speed limit.

 

We are (mostly) conditioned to accept and obey authority figures… at least to a limit. So here I was, knowingly breaking every speed law in the rush to get to my grieving mother, and yet when it came to going through the STOP sign at the toll bridge, I froze, I couldn’t do it.

 

Especially in this day and age we’ve seen several instances where folks have ignored authority figures selectively. Many of us will “respect” and comply with authoritative directives unless our moral obligations are stronger, and we believe the authority is wrong. I guess I was able to justify the speed in which I was driving, and yet I was not prepared to burst through a red light at the toll booth. It sounds funny now, so many years later, when I clearly remember my annoyance and impatience at that toll basket and yet my foot remained frozen on the brake pedal.

 

Months after that horrible day I told my mom about the way I froze in-route to see her. She chuckled and told me it was all the years of her and daddy telling me there were rules to be followed. She joked while patting herself on the back reminding me what a good mother she was in teaching me to be a “good girl”.

 

So many years later (and no longer living in Rockland County!), many of the lessons that my folks taught me still remain, and not always in the BACK of my mind.

It’s My Life

As I wrote in my post “Heritage” I’ve been researching my genealogy. I feel so blessed to have made connections that I never had any idea about before. I’ve met cousins (often 3^rd through…) and we’ve shared stories which are amazing!

One of the most astonishing things I’ve found are so many similarities, so often I find we think alike and even share favorite expressions — even though we’ve never met before, and often the generation before us had no interaction either. Our mutual likes, dislikes, and even political views really makes me believe in genetic memory!

Now I admit I am not the first one of my relatives to have pursued building a family tree. Many years ago, about a decade, a cousin on my mom’s paternal side tracked down and recorded EIGHT generations! It was a monumental task. Ironically the family tree showed a connection to a person I had known for a few years… talk about a small world.

But there are more trees that intertwine to make me who I am and I have started researching more on my mom’s maternal side. To be perfectly honest my mother was raised in the same small town where many of these people once resided and so many of them remembered her as a child (unfortunately she passed away several years before this cousin reached out to my sister and me). But I’ve formed precious friendships (several through the convenience of the internet).

My dad’s side was quite a bit more challenging as he grew up in a broken home (and again, he passed away rather early as well) so it hasn’t been easy to find out much. Unfortunately the few generations before me have thinned and not a lot of information has been available. I recently found out that my paternal grandfather had a sister but aside from having the name of the man she married I couldn’t find out anything else about her.

Surprisingly, the one grandparent I had little hope of tracking, my dad’s mother, has recently been the newest “tree” in my history. Thanks to that DNA test I took (23andme) I connected with a lovely cousin. We are close in age and grandchildren of sisters. She and I have shared several wonderful conversations about ourselves, our (current) families and so many of the family names that have repeated themselves in both of our lines. This cousin has been involved in a rather extensive family tree which, to my surprise, actually included my parents although neither my sister nor I were known about.

I never could figure out how one figures out anything beyond first cousins – so whether any of these lovely folks I am connected to are related two generations, or longer, ago, we have just all chosen to drop the numerical value of “cousin”. Trying to figure out the number of “great(s)” that comes before a mutual grandparent AND figuring out if you are of the same generation or not gives me a headache. I just prefer to call each relative COUSIN.

Aside from having this yearning to find out more of my roots, I am hoping o compile a bit of a book which I can pass down to my own children, nieces and nephews to help keep the family story very much alive. I know I have a lot of work to do but I am looking forward to this task because, well, THIS IS MY LIFE!

Reason for Thanks

As a child I wanted to be an actress or a police officer… at some point I think I wanted to be a wild cowgirl riding horses for a living. What I remember wanting the most was to be a child forever in the loving and protective arms of my parents and always tagging along with my big sister.

I was just six-years-old when my paternal grandfather died and I saw my father cry. I crawled onto his lap and cried on his shoulder telling him I never wanted to grow up if it meant losing people you loved. (Daddy called it The Peter Pan Complex) He hugged me so tight and told me that he had no regrets about growing up because it meant that he met my mom, married her, and they had my sister and me. He said that growing up was a good thing even though sometimes you might have reason to cry because I would have so many more wonderful things come my way. He told me to enjoy everything that life brought to me and to treasure every memory that came before.

Truthfully I had a fantastic childhood. We never had a lot of money, but I always felt that I had everything I could want. I remember having a terrific dollhouse and furniture — the dollhouse was a big cardboard box, the furniture was plastic throwaways from the manufacturing company where my dad worked, the window curtains were remnants of cloth left over from the school clothes my mom handmade for us, and while the dolls that “lived” there didn’t really fit, it didn’t matter, I loved it. My sister was my best friend and she let me tag along with her friends and I always had fun because everyone treated me so nicely, I was everyone's "little sister". Our parents always made time for us whether it was watching TV (in costume!) with my dad or baking cookies with my mom, and so many more things.

Both of my parents passed away shortly after I was married, so did my husband’s folks, and I cried. But I remembered my dad’s words to me and I looked forward to what the future would bring. We struggled to have children, a couple of miscarriages and then our daughter, and another miscarriage and then our son was born. As is our custom to name after the deceased, our daughter is named for my mom, and our son for my dad and my mother-in-law (a niece is named for my father-in-law). Watching our children grow to be adults has been a joy and seeing them happy with their own spouses is so fulfilling. Daddy was so right, I have so many memories to treasure and so many wonderful things that came into my life.

My mom used to make a huge Thanksgiving feast for the family, including aunts and uncles and cousins, each year and I swear I can still remember the savory smells from her tiny apartment kitchen (I marvel at how much food she was always able to cook for so many!). Life is different, the family schedules are tighter and distances are greater (and two of my four children work on Thanksgiving), so we don’t always have the same gatherings, but the sentiment is still there. This year my husband and I (we’ll be married 44-years next month) went to a grand Thanksgiving feast at our community association — our first since we moved here last December — and we enjoyed ourselves immensely.

Thanksgiving is a time of appreciation and gratitude, and I have so very much to be thankful for. I am thankful for the love of my life, the man who is a hero in every way (and yes, the man who influences my concept of every romantic hero I write about), I am so grateful for our children and their mates, and my pussycats and grand-fur-babies. I am so happy to still have my sister (who is still one of my best friends), her husband (who is more like a brother to me), and their sons and families. I am also blessed with great sister-in-laws and brother-in-laws, and nephews and nieces and their families. I'm grateful for my readers and their support.

And most of all what I am thankful are my dad’s wise words to me, to look forward to life and all the joys it can bring my way.

My wishes for all of you — have a truly wonderful and meaningful Thanksgiving.

Wishing you a Happy Thanksgiving!

Daily Prompt ~ Distance ~ #MondayBlogs

I found a terrific writing site (thanks to my friend Sugana) — The Daily Post: Daily Prompts provides a NEW daily prompt every day to give every writer a way to put a spark in her/his creativity. I decided to join this group every so often...

Today's Prompt is DISTANT

Definition of Distant: [adjective] far away in space or time, "distant parts of the world". synonyms: faraway, far off, far, far-flung, remote, out of the way, outlying, extrasolar, "distant parts of the world"; long ago, bygone, olden; ancient, prehistoric; literary of yore, olden, "the distant past"; away, off, apart, "half a mile distant".

What does the word DISTANT make me think of? Distant memories come to mind.

There’s the distant memory of a mother’s comforting kisses whenever a boo-boo made my child-self cry, or her comforting embrace when teenage angst seemed like the most tragic thing in the world. There’s also the distant memory of my father being able to fix anything in the world no matter how shattered the toy might be. As I reached my teenage years and entered adulthood my dad always managed to say exactly the things I needed to hear. I was just a newlywed when my parents passed away and I do miss those memories.

Now as an adult reaching my golden years with my own grown offspring I think back to every time I tried to sooth their aches, whether physical or in the heart, and wondered if my hugs and kisses were as magical as my parents’ were. And though they are now adults and more-or-less have no need of mom and dad to fix their problems, they are still my kids and always will be. Every time they make a turn that I want to give some advice about I go back to those distant memories and wonder what my dad would have said. Luckily most times I think at least twice and try to keep my mouth shut. I wonder if my children will one day have distant memories of those times that I didn’t meddle?

Life is made up of distant memories that influence all of our actions today and tomorrow. Distant memories can seem so sweet, some tug at the heart, and others that once felt so monumental now seem so insignificant. Our memories can sustain us and guide us and maybe sometimes embarrass us… but I wouldn’t trade those distant memories, those are my keepsakes forever.

A Matter of Privacy ~ #MondayBlogs

On one side of my family all of the older female relatives literally celebrated, via phone calls, every related teen-girl’s first menses (kind of ala The Red Tent). The other side of my family keeps things so private that even emergency hospitalizations aren’t shared outside of the immediate household until there’s a casual conversation after the release of the patient.

There has GOT to be some middle ground.

I truly believe that families have the right to know about serious health issues and semi-major family crises. You certainly don’t need to share bedroom “stuff”, salaries, spats between household members or things that are told to you in confidence by another family member (unless of course someone’s safety is involved). And when things go awry in life it definitely helps to talk out your angst with someone you can trust.

It was even suggested that if you really need to talk about something that is making you lose sleep, pay a therapist to listen instead of calling your sibling or a close cousin! While there is a time and place for therapy, most worries just need to be aired, a chance to vent, a chance to be coddled for a few minutes. I am not talking about calling a relative to overrule something the spouse wants to do, getting permission or plotting — I’m talking about keeping yourself from being tied up in knots with worry and upset.

I know of couples who won’t allow their spouse to even go to the doctor’s waiting room with them for an appointment, and I also know of couples who will only make appointments when their spouse is available to go with them to talk to the doctor together. Sadly I also know couples who won’ even share the results of crucial medical tests with each other. I used to ride an ambulance as an EMT and a few times I responded to a call where the other household members had no idea what medical conditions the patient had or why they were taking medications… undeniably sad and even a bit scary.

How much sharing is comfortable for you? How much privacy do you need?

I’ve often wondered how many of the “emergency contacts” on forms and in our phones actually have information about the person they are supposedly able to answer for. And why for gosh sakes would someone’s offspring think that mom and dad no longer worry about them even when they live out of the house?

Yes, I do agree that there are things that needn’t be discussed, but there is so much more that should be. Families especially need to be able to rely on one another even if they are under separate roofs. Even unrelated roommates need to know somethings about each other such as where they work and if (and where) they are headed off for a weekend of fun so that is SOMETHING, ANYTHNG unexpected happens, at least the police can get in touch when they need to!

To quote John Donne, “No Man Is an Island” and we cannot create walls as complete insulation between us. We each live, work and play with other human beings and there needs to be just a bit where the lines we draw around ourselves actually overlap and mingle. Honestly you shouldn’t surround yourself with folks that you can’t even trust enough to share who you are with.

I’d love to hear your opinions about privacy…

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Hello Young Lovers ~ #MondayBlogs

When I was still a newlywed, we had a huge problem with a really pesky neighbor and it was very frustrating. Totally at my wits-end I telephoned my father and asked him what to do. We had a discussion, I don’t remember the exact words (it’s been a lot of years) — after hearing me out, my frustration and my crying, Daddy told me that he would always be happy to help me out BUT had I told my husband my feelings? I answered something like “Not really”.

Daddy didn’t renege on his offer to help me IF I STILL WANTED IT AFTER HIS ADVICE. The main thing my father stressed was that I was a married woman, an adult, who was married to a grown man; we were two adults who made a commitment to each other. While your parents would always be your parents and always care about you and do whatever they could to make your life easier, a married woman OR man should always be a team with her/his spouse. In other words, even if I had been the one to call my dad, I should have been speaking for the two of us.

I’m pretty sure that we have all heard the phrase “Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife, and they shall be one flesh” (Genesis 2:24) or “no one was ever intended to come between a husband and a wife” (Matthew 19:6). [Nowadays this should refer to ALL married couples, not just the husband/wife variety] What do these two phrases mean, what did my dad mean about my discussing things with my husband and we should basically speak as one?

When we marry, both sides of the couple, are making the promise to leave the shelter and dependence of our parents and be able to rely and support each other. We need to turn to our spouses first before running to Mommy and Daddy. Our circle as a married couple means that we are the primary relationship and we each need to see each other as our priority, Being a couple should be the MOST IMPORTANT bond. Dependence and dependability on each other not only fosters trust and respect, it also makes a formidable unit which can withstand opposition.

This primary relationship needs to be recognized by more than just the partners but also by the people around them. Parents need to recognize and respect their child’s spouse and need to understand that they should never, ever attempt to get in between that bond. As parents we want to always be there for our children no matter how old they are, we have a need to want to fix things for them, and of course we only want what is best for them even when what we think is best is not what they want.

The time for raising our children and teaching them responsibility should have been going on through all of their adolescent and teen years. By the time our children reach adulthood and enter into a committed relationship, hopefully we have provided them with enough foundation to actually be able to think and do for themselves. And parents can give themselves a pat on the back when their job has been well done and offspring can actually deal with real life. While we will always want to step in, we MUST respect and trust our adult children and that includes respecting and trusting the person he/she chose as a lifelong partner; you can’t truly respect one unless you respect the other.

Parents who nurture an unhealthy relationship are only damaging many lives: If you don’t raise and allow your offspring to act like grown-ups, one day may come when they have to think for themselves and make decisions and the parents may no longer be around; parents who think they need to control their grown child will cause self-doubt, lack of trust for one another and a dependency that may at some point become too heavy a burden for the aging adult; and parents who are constantly intervening in their son or daughter’s relationship run the risk of seriously damaging the bond and creating not only sadness for their child but also resentment against the parents. In an ideal world grown children and parents can have wonderful relationships and can be there for each other when needed but the respect has to go both ways INCLUDING the in-law child.

My dad passed away shortly after our first wedding anniversary and my mom just a year later – ever since those valuable words my dad said to me during that phone call I've turned to my husband (and he has turned to me) and we have always been there for each other. It’s been more than 40 years and my husband and I are still best friends, confidents, support, and the genuine other half — and I owe it all to the fact that my dad recognized that a married couple, even his daughter and her husband, should be the strongest bond and what hath been “joined together, let no man put asunder”.

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You May Not Know… ~ #MondayBlogs

The summer that our daughter turned 17 she made plans to join a youth group trip to Poland and Israel. An acquaintance confronted me with genuine concern and asked “How can you let her travel to such a dangerous place?”

Although we definitely worried about our daughter’s trip it wasn’t because of the location, it was the idea that she would be so far away without us by her side to “protect” her. We knew how important this trip was to her and how much she wanted the experience. We also knew teens who had taken similar journeys in previous summers and even more parents who had let their children go, and we were filled with stories of wonder, happiness and thankfulness for the experience.

However I did repeat the concern to the trip organizers during a parent-prep meeting. The response certainly opened my eyes. The young man I spoke to visited Israel and other parts of Europe several times a year, sometimes as part of his job and other times simply to spend time with friends he made through the years.

“When I am overseas and strangers learn I am from the New York City area they always ask me what it is like to live in such a dangerous place. Because of the way the media presents things they believe we all carry guns, fight off attacks every day, step over bodies in the street regularly, and have to live in secure fortresses for any kind of safety.”

His response certainly made me pause. He then asked if I was in contact with people in Israel and suggested I ask them what they thought about a group of North American teens visiting Israel (and yes he offered me contact info for some of his friends. He thought if I needed reassurance I should speak to people who actually lived there instead of some media copy that only painted a picture that would sell.

Unfortunately the world we live in has far too many incidents of violence and tragedies, but most people, thank goodness, live and work in cities and towns all over. No one is immune to the POSSIBILITY of being in the wrong place at the wrong time (even at home), but does that mean we should freeze in our tracks afraid to experience life? Practicing caution and being vigilant is wise but closing ourselves off to new adventures and possibilities is, well, not living.

She went to Poland and Israel and there were a few incidents of “concern” (more for her nervous parents than her) but she came home thrilled for having gone and changed by the lessons she learned by seeing the different cultures. She’s been back to Israel since and loves to travel… wherever. Her latest goal is to visit every continent at least once. And even now years later, even when she is accompanied by people who love and care for her, I worry each time she takes flight.

Our son is another test of a parent’s nerves, his adventures involve some travel but are more geared to physical challenges (mountains, skydiving, oy vey!). It is so true that no matter how old our offspring are, they will always be our babies — we look at the very capable adult and still see the infant cradled in our arms.

Sometimes you have to just pray A LOT and hope for the best, but always let life happen.

What makes a marriage? ~ #MondayBlogs

How do some marriages last while others simply seem to flare and then die out?

After being married for more than 40 years I may not have the ultimate answer, but I do know what has worked for me. A married couple needs to be many things to each other and for each other.

In my own marriage we have been (and are) lovers, friends, co-parents (2 and 4 legged children), business partners, confidants, “counselors”, co-conspirators, roommates, caretakers, tender hand-holders, escorts, and often devil’s advocate.

No matter how passionate, loving, and fun your union may start out, life happens, and when life’s changes and obstacles get in the way, your focus and needs can change as well. I believe the balance to a solid marriage has to do with being able to step in and out of the myriad of roles you’ve assumed so that even when you are too tired for sex, don’t want to find adventure, or need to adjust to the changing world around you there will still be something solid for you to hold on to.

Not every couple works together as business partners, but marriage still needs to be a partnership sharing the responsibilities, the decisions and the fruits together. No one said everything has to be an even 50/50; sometimes you don’t feel up to giving 50-percent and other times you believe you can take on the world. Your spouse needs to support you mentally and sometimes physically and financially. Trust me when I say it is fun to make dinner together, to go shopping together and share housework (in and out of the house). Joint ventures, whether it is running business or running your home, gives you a combined sense of accomplishment and camaraderie.

There are going to be disagreements and even anger, face it, you didn’t marry yourself (and you probably wouldn’t want to) so there will be differences of opinion. Sometimes you’ll get angry when it may seem as if the differences can’t get resolved. Chances are the anger and possible disappointment may affect your passion, your sex-life, or your comfortable companionship — these are the times to let another aspect of your relationship take over. Talk about decisions you may have coming up, the car you have to replace or even the candidate you plan to vote for; work towards a mutual goal like painting that room you’ve been talking about getting done; and this may be the ideal time to plan some family time with the children and a local amusement park.

The main thing to have in any marriage is unity, togetherness and mutual respect. No marriage is perfect and you’re going to go through rough spots. Learn to rely one of the other roles in your marriage to get you through so that you’re not feeling alone. You are a couple so act together, and be together.

The truth is that it is a very rare occurrence when one person can provide all the needs for another; this is what platonic friends are for, to help fill out the gaps. You should never let yourself rely more strongly on your friends than you do on your partner though. Too many young couples nowadays get married assuring themselves that if things go wrong they can always get a divorce. Some marriages may not be meant to last and separation or divorce may be the smartest option, but there should be no reason to plan on it from the get-go! Be a Jack-of-all-trades when it comes to marriage, be prepared to assume different roles for each other and you will find that your marriage will never have reason to fizzle out.

Being the Oldest Generation ~ #MondayBlogs

Both of my parents were gone by the time I was 25 and both of my in-laws by the time I was 27. All four were present at our wedding 40 years ago. Hubby and I miss them all but we were lucky to have very rewarding, rich and close friendships with each. I do feel bad for my children who never knew their grandparents (although our daughter was 14-months old when her paternal grandmother passed). A lot of time has been spent while we tell our offspring stories about their grandparents so that they should “know” them a bit.

Uncles and Aunts have also passed early-ish, on both sides, leaving us, our siblings and our cousins among the elders in the family. It’s a mind-blowing thought to know you are a part of the oldest generation in your family. There is an implied responsibility to carry the traditions forward, tell everyone stories so that none of your elders ever die a “second death” (EVERYONE suffers a physical death at some point, it is when you are no longer remembered that you die a second time), and to try to be the older, wiser sage without actually acting or feeling OLD.

I am finally old enough to officially apply and collect a (reduced) Social Security check, although I have no plans to file for quite a while — but I find this to be a form of accomplishment as hubby and I have both outlived all of our parents, none of whom were ever old enough, so I actually like to brag about my age. BUUUUT for some reason I remember my parents as being quite a bit OLDER than I feel and somehow I imagine our kids think of us as being just as old.

When I read stories about X-number of generations in one photograph, I admit feeling a tinge of envy. And when I hear about the elderly sitting by themselves waiting endlessly for at least a phone call from their children, I get a bit angry. If you are blessed to still have your parents (and/or grandparents) around, think of how lucky you really are. It would have been nice to have my mom, or my mother-in-law, around for some parenting advice as my kids “tested me”. It would have been great to see my children bounced on their grandfathers’ knees.

As I’ve gotten older my children don’t need me IN THE SAME WAY THEY DID when they were very young. They are self-sufficient and capable young adults. It’s nice to be around to watch them make lives and contribute to this world, and if I am lucky I will get more time to be here with them. I hope that I will never become the kind of parent that they will get annoyed with. If they come out on the other end thinking of me with half as much love and fondness as I had for my parents, then I certainly will be pretty lucky to know that kind of love.

But don’t cry for me, I’m not. You see one of the things my parents taught me was to make every day count, to always say I love you and never to miss an opportunity to be together. And we did. We lived a lot in the 23 and 25 years I had them on this physical earth. I still believe that they hear me, and sometimes find a way to answer me (simply because of how close we always were), when I need to “chat”. Don’t wait for tomorrow, today is here.

Tomorrow is not promised and
the past cannot be changed
 therefore live each day to the fullest and
know that every new day is a blessing.
Nishan Panwar

Unconditional Love ~ #MondayBlogs

Loving someone unconditionally does NOT mean loving them blindly. You need to really know a person in order to love them, faults and all. And it’s okay to not always LIKE them and still LOVE them.

Parents and offspring have been knocking heads together since Adam and Eve had their sons. Never, ever withhold love from a child. Never make them feel that you won’t love them anymore if they struggle in school. It’s alright to let your child know when you are not happy with his actions, that there are consequences for breaking the rules, but NEVER, ever make him feel that he has lost your love. Don’t crush her spirit, destroy his self-confidence, or make her feel alone. A child should always feel the security of her parent’s love.

There are many ways to love, family love between parents and children or siblings, love between friends, love between lovers or spouses, or even love for pets. Love can fill your heart with warmth and happiness; you care deeply about another living being. Love is not dependency although you can’t imagine a world without the one you love in it. Love is not a chore, although it is worth any work you put into it. Love is not a possession even though you want to claim it for your own.

When you love a person for who he or she really is, then you understand his faults and love him anyway. If you claim to love someone but won’t see who he really is, then you merely “love” a fantasy you created and loving only what you want to see. Love without conditions — without limits is a true love, it is deep and real.

Love is a wonder.

The Sentimental Menorah ~ #MondayBlogs

We go about our day, everything is normal, and suddenly something happens to remind us of times gone by and a tear falls…

Last night we lit the first Chanukah candle (there is the Shammos with eight candles, one for each night). To say our prayers and fulfill the mitzvoh (commandment), we light an open flame (in our home, candles) menorah, but we use an electric menorah in the window for display and safety reasons (curtains, shades, etc.).

Let me fill you in on back story here:

My family has the tradition of passing down the candle menorah to the oldest daughter by her first Chanukah in her married home. Somehow my mom received two heirloom menorahs so both my sister and I each received one. By the time I was married, and my parents gave me their second menorah, I wanted to replace a menorah for them; my mom was getting wary of the open flame and when safety is involved adjustments can be made, so I bought them an electric menorah which they used in December 1976.

My dad passed away suddenly in the spring of 1977 and later that year my mom (with the help of her daughters and their husbands) packed up the apartment. There were plans for her to move in with her children, but first she wanted to relax in Florida with her mom. She had a stroke and although we brought her back up north to be close to us, she never was able to come home; Mommy passed away in January 1979.

I’ve used the electric menorah we had given to my folks in my window since 1979. When my children were very young, before college, work and marriage, they used to take turns. One child would pick out the Chanukah candles to be lit in the brass menorah my mom passed along to me and the other child would screw in the correct number of light bulbs for the display. Mark and I have taken over both tasks in the more recent years. When my daughter married in 2007 we replaced the candle menorah for our use as the tradition carried forward.

Yesterday afternoon I took the electric menorah, a white plastic now turned yellow from age, from its box in the closet and hoped that each of the orange bulbs would still light; I plugged it in while standing in the kitchen to check if I had to replace any. All nine of the bulbs lit… then one flamed briefly and before I could pull the plug a circuit breaker switched off and half my kitchen was without power. I called out to my husband that “a fuse blew” (I’m old school and still call it that).

He reset the switch and came upstairs to see what I had done and there I stood just looking at the damaged menorah and, yes, crying quietly. He inspected it and confirmed my fear, the menorah bought 39-years earlier that my parents lit as they shared their last Chanukah together, was done. This simple gift I had given to my parents meant more to me than I ever realized. I mumbled how I had looked for orange light bulbs when I was in the supermarket just in case they were needed, but all that the store had was an LED menorah with little blue lights.

My husband, thinking swiftly, simply said, “Get your jacket on”. He drove us to the store and bought one of those LED menorahs with little blue lights and that is what was displayed in our window for the first night of the festival. Right after we came home and set the new plastic menorah in the window, I set the Shammos and one candle in the “real” menorah and Mark said the blessings as he lit them.

On the first night there are three blessings, the first one is Shehecheyanu where we thank G-d for giving us life and enabling us to reach this season. Seasons come and seasons go; life is forever moving forward. After 39 years the plastic electric menorah that I always thought of as my parents’ menorah has been retired and I admit without shame that I shed some tears as memories flitted through my mind. Now Mark and I will have new memories to make and share with a new display piece.

I hope that your holiday celebrations are fun and festive and whichever holidays or events you observe are warm and fulfilling.

Chag Sameach (Happy Holidays)

My parents' electric Menorah

A mother’s wish ~ #MondayBlogs

Siblings are often the first childhood playmates and friends; in some families depending on proximity and emotional closeness, cousins are the next best thing especially for an only child. Every mother and father can relate to the dull ache inside that is caused when these childhood buddies fight and hurt each other (emotionally) — if the fighting and hurt progresses to physical damages, the pain and fear becomes sharp and unbearable.

As our children grow into adulthood and parents, aunts and uncles get older, we worry that our dear, sweet children might not stay close and be there for each other during the good as well as bad times.

It’s a reality that not every sibling shares common interests with the other and perhaps, except for their mutual parentage, they might not otherwise be friends. Just like any longtime friendship life does change, love interests and spouses take priority, perhaps their own children enter the picture, and siblings become part of the extended family that time must be made for. When and if our children marry, or take lifelong partners, we do breathe sighs of relief that they will always have someone to stand by them, but we still hope that their siblings will also be there to love and support when we can no longer be there for them. The household (occupants), work, location, and other obligations can often put a major dent into the time each has for their brother(s) or sister(s).

When there are more than two siblings or there are several years of age difference, the dynamics can be very different. Two may be closer to each other than three or more. There may be an unequal distribution of common interests. Eventually mates might be friendlier with one of their in-laws and encourage that closeness between the siblings. Even couples who each have siblings they grew up with can cause a shift in family dynamics when my side/your side becomes an issue. And it can certainly cause undue strain when opposing siblings actually do oppose each other.

Maturity and life can also make siblings realize how much they like having a brother or a sister. On their own or in a relationship, grown siblings have their own “space” to retreat to which reduces the childhood arguments about possessions. Once teasing words lose their sting just a bit as the adults hear more than insults, or they learn to pick their battles and hopefully overcome the childhood arguments and hurts. Aging parents can bring siblings closer as they fear the inevitable loss and they cease their jealous vying for parents’ attention. Employment and recognition at different workplaces helps to feed egos and lets each feel as if they have escaped “the shadow” and constant comparisons. It is often easier for the adult sibling to become a friend to the other.

We moms and dads want to know that our children are set for life even when we are no longer present to help them, love them and try to soothe them when they hurt. There comes a time when parents can only hope that family love, years of growing up together and a common history will be enough to glue their children together for life.

Charlie issues his demands ~ Weekend Writing Warriors / #8sunday / 10/25/15

Hi! Welcome to another Weekend Writing Warrior and Snippet Sunday round. Every week writers post 8-to-10 sentences on their blogs from a published or unpublished book. Then we "hop" around and leave comments on each other's snippets. Whether our work is already published or in progress, the helpful comments help us become stronger writers on our next WIP. We welcome EVERYONE's comments.

See more at the
WeWriWa blog
& check out the
Facebook Snippet Sunday group

My entry this week is from Common Bond, Tangled Hearts. Layne Gillette’s world is turned upside down when a man she has never met shows up to lay claim as the father of her 6-year old son. 

Last week Justin was drugged on morphine and beaten until 2 ribs were broken, the PI his family hired to find Layne went missing, and Charlie had Layne and Dennis kidnapped and brought to his house in Philadelphia.

This will be the last week I'm posting from Common Bond, Tangled Hearts as I've reached the permitted limit... 

  (the following has been creatively edited to fit)  ...and now the eight nine:

Charlie had almost every toy a six-year-old boy could ever want, Dennis felt like he had been let loose in his own personal toy store. Layne regretted the fact that she hadn’t been able to provide a better life for her son so that he wouldn’t have been bewitched by the glitter.

Layne was waiting in Charlie's study just as he had instructed, he made it sound ominous.

Charlie finally walked into his den and closed the door behind him.

He tossed a large envelope onto the coffee table in front of her, "before we start our discussion I would suggest you look inside that folder."

She opened the envelope and gasped. Inside were photos, obviously taken through the fire escape window the night before, there were graphic shots of her and Justin making love.

"It's a shame that you and your lover didn't pull the blinds. Unless you cooperate, you will find yourself out on the street once again while I raise the boy without you."

For more WeWriWa Snippets, go to: 

www.wewriwa.com

About Common Bond, Tangled Hearts

Layne Gillette’s world is turned upside down when a man she has never met shows up to lay claim as the father of her 6-year old son.

Justin, the victim of a fraternity prank, and Layne, the subject of a forced insemination, have produced a beautiful child that they are both willing to protect… at all costs.

The two parents realize they can love each other, but when Layne’s abusive “ex-husband” shows up, they are torn apart by danger, kidnapping and lies. Justin won’t give up until Layne is returned to him. Layne uses her newfound strength, courage and knowledge to defy Charlie’s ugliest demands.

Smashwords (multiple e-book formats)

Amazon.com (print)

Kindle from Amazon

Kobo

Apple iTunes

Barnes & Noble

 ~~~~~

Trick or Treaters stop by on Oct. 26, 2015. 

Meet the authors and stick around for the party and you'll have a chance to win some treats.

This is a Virtual Party on Facebook

from 7:30 AM to 5:00 PM (PDT)

I'll be there from 12:30-1PM to chat and give away prizes!
(that's 3:30-4PM EST)

Justin needs a plan - Weekend Writing Warriors / #8sunday / 10/18/15

Hi! Welcome to another Weekend Writing Warrior and Snippet Sunday round. Every week writers post 8-to-10 sentences on their blogs from a published or unpublished book. Then we "hop" around and leave comments on each other's snippets. Whether our work is already published or in progress, the helpful comments help us become stronger writers on our next WIP. We welcome EVERYONE's comments.

See more at the
WeWriWa blog
& check out the
Facebook Snippet Sunday group

My entry this week is from Common Bond, Tangled Hearts. Layne Gillette’s world is turned upside down when a man she has never met shows up to lay claim as the father of her 6-year old son. 

Justin returns to his apartment to figure out what to do to get Layne back... and to heal. He calls on Larry Davis, the family attorney; they previously had words about his pursuing Layne and it didn't end well.

  (the following has been creatively edited to fit)  ...and now the eight nine ten:

Justin went straight to his apartment, if he showed up at the office or at the house he'd have far too much explaining to do. His face looked battered, one eye was black and his cheek was bruised and swollen, that was just what was visible; his heart was battered beyond belief.

He made a phone call to Larry Davis, he needed Larry's help.

Justin peeled back his shirt to look at his side again, the angry bruising on his rib cage was just as ugly as it felt. He was downing another three Ibuprofen when his doorbell rang; if he were lucky it would be Larry, if it were an answer to his prayers it would be Layne.

Larry was at the door, he looked at Justin’s bruises, "what the hell happened to you?"

"It would seem that I pissed somebody else off," Justin said wryly.

“You left the message that you needed my services," Larry noticed Justin's grimace as he turned, "you really are hurt."

"I'll live," Justin sat gently, "Layne and Dennis were kidnapped this morning, although everyone would like to think that she went back to her husband."

"The PI’s report never said anything about a husband, by the way our PI is missing."

For more WeWriWa Snippets, go to: 

www.wewriwa.com

About Common Bond, Tangled Hearts

Layne Gillette’s world is turned upside down when a man she has never met shows up to lay claim as the father of her 6-year old son.

Justin, the victim of a fraternity prank, and Layne, the subject of a forced insemination, have produced a beautiful child that they are both willing to protect… at all costs.

The two parents realize they can love each other, but when Layne’s abusive “ex-husband” shows up, they are torn apart by danger, kidnapping and lies. Justin won’t give up until Layne is returned to him. Layne uses her newfound strength, courage and knowledge to defy Charlie’s ugliest demands.

Smashwords (multiple e-book formats)

Amazon.com (print)

Kindle from Amazon

Kobo

Apple iTunes

Barnes & Noble

 ~~~~~

There is a scene in my novel Karma Visited (one of the dream sequences) where the heroine watches a large group of bedraggled and soaking wet people entering a shelter after a devastating storm and flood ~ this scene was stolen in full from my own memory of Superstorm Sandy in October 2012.

A section of my hometown in New York's Hudson Valley was devastated by the high tides, pouring rain and violent winds. Homes that sat alongside the majestic Hudson River were literally washed away; other homes, more inland, suffered downed trees crashing through rooftops. In total nearly 100 residents had no where else to go and needed shelter to ride out the rest of the storm and to live temporarily until other arrangements could be made. It was heartbreaking.

As an Executive Board Member of our local ambulance corps it was my responsibility to liaison with the town and emergency services to set up a shelter for the displaced. The night the storm was at its worst, while my husband, son and daughter-in-law were riding the rigs and rescuing people from the high waters, I stood in the hallway of our building with other volunteers when a busload of frightened residents were dropped off and I watched them come down the hall - the memory remains burned into my mind.

Writers are often told to write what they know - I did. 

Superstorm Sandy wreaked havoc three years ago this week

And thank you to all the volunteers who left the comfort & safety of their own homes to help.

Annie was standing at the end of a long hallway. A group of people were walking towards her. She noticed tear streaked faces and vacant eyes that had already seen too much. One woman was holding a toddler to her chest; both of them were soaked through and shivering. A young girl was holding a calico cat; the cat clung to her, and both of them looked scared. Arms around the furry feline, paws around the little girl’s neck, both of them looked like all they had in the world was each other. Silent tears were rolling down the girl’s cheeks.

The destination for the mass of bedraggled storm victims was a rickety table. Two women sat there asking gentle questions and taking names. As the evacuees signed in they were ushered into the room behind the table. A man brought in a heavy wool blanket and wrapped the woman and toddler in it. Through the tears and anxious whispers Annie heard the words rain, tornadoes and death. The shocked expressions and quivering voices bore testimony to the fierce winds of the monsters that left devastation in their path.

Looking around the room now teeming with both the rescued and the rescuers, Annie saw trophies and photos of uniformed men and women marching next to fire trucks and ambulances. The local fire department opened its doors as a shelter for the survivors of the storm. Even the heroes who were doling out blankets, hot coffee and comfort looked scared and overwhelmed. Every now and then she saw a shelter worker offer a consoling and light touch on the arm, a hug, a shoulder – human touches that were beyond her ability. Annie wondered why she was there, what she could do to help them.

The evacuees clung to family members and friends who walked in with them. She heard people crying as they spoke about homes that collapsed around them. A few people stood and shouted random names with passionate pleas for any information. A shelter volunteer began handing out dry clothes for people who needed, others got blankets and toiletries, a few of the very young were given stuffed animals and toy trucks. A non-stop stream of coffee, juice boxes and cookies were offered all around. People sat at tables clutching their new possessions, an armful of material things that represented all they owned.

Karma Visited