Book Review - Heaven Is For Real

Hi folks, I write occasionally about a book I've just read. Sometimes I write because it's terrible and sometimes because it was good. This time it's because it was good and touched me.

I just read Heaven Is For Real: A Little Boy's Astounding Story of His Trip to Heaven and Back written by Todd Burpo & Lynn Vincent.

I'm a Christian... more specifically, I was raised Catholic and now... I find myself believing in Christ and doubting the church. I'm confused and I'm empty because I feel as if I'm missing something spiritually in my life. I believe that is fellowship. However, Catholics really don't have much by way of fellowship. But regardless, that is neither here nor there.

This book helped to reaffirm for me that God is good. That Jesus is my savior and loves me. That the Holy Spirit is with me always. And that truly, childlike innocence is the most beautiful gift in this world.

I'm glad I read it. It put a smile on my heart and I look forward to my life and my future... trying to figure out God's plan for me... working my way until one day, he holds me in his protective arms and tells me all is well.

Also, God, thanks for taking care of Papa. I know he's up there with you and you are filling him up with love.

Weekend Was Tough

This past weekend was really tough. Friday night, Paul and I had a couples massage scheduled for when I got out of work. I was really looking forward to some one on one date night action before he moved back to Boston. Instead he called up all his friends and asked them to come out for drinks. Instead of finding a place and sticking to it, we wandered around the city disappointed in each bar. I was 2 minutes away from hailing a cab and going home. I felt aggravated, frustrated, disappointed and in a sense, not good enough for Friday night company. I know Paul wanted to see his friends, but really?

Well there was still Saturday right? NOT! Friday Paul's Mom emailed me regarding his sister's birthday in PA. Paul so happened to forget to ask me about it. In the end we both thought it was only right that we attend. I love this sister of his. I love all his siblings, particularly the one's in PA. The relationship has been strained from the start (no fault of Paul's) and bridging this gaps are a good start on forming an ever closer bond. Unfortunately, the party lasted all day and we weren't home till past midnight. I had to go grab a Papa's car because Paul was taking mine. In the end, we went to bed and at 5AM Paul was out the door moving to Boston.... on the anniversary of my grandpa's death... only 2 years ago.

So yeah... I was sad all weekend. I was upset in the morning. I was worried how I'd be emotionally. With my mom not talking to my sister and me, my sister in FL and my grandma in VA - I was just ... alone.

I got through the day with little drama but lots of anxiety. I was sad about my grandpa but instead of really - REALLY thinking about him, I ended up thinking about my Mom and my little brother and sister. They were at church and when I went to them to say hello, my mother shunned me. I didn't let it stop me, I grabbed her cheek and kissed it hello. I will be respectful - and then whatever she does... you cannot pin that on me. What hurt me was my brother and sister who so fear my mother's wrath, actually ignored me and turned away from me. They were headed to my Uncle's for a BBQ. I was invited as well... and I went. I didn't care if my Mother ignored me, I was going to breath in ever second I could of my brother and sister before she again took them away from me.

Paul's Mom was with me at church and was invited to the BBQ as well. She stopped by for an hour or two. While there my Mom put on a fantastic show... as usual. She put her entertaining smile on and began to schmooze like only plastic can do. She even addressed me... of course only to boss me around. It's pathetic... this life with my family.

But I was happy... because I got to see my brother and sister and soak up hugs, stories, smells... love.

I went home and eventually went to bed. Monday morning means work... and it was a day filled with wedding talk, work talk, and tiredness. I felt I needed a much deserved manicure and pedicure but while sitting in the nail salon my grandma called. She got some bad news from the doctor. They want to perform an angiogram and put in a stent. She doesn't want the procedure done. She wants to discuss it with me... likely because she has no one else to talk to with my Mom not talking to her, her eldest son turning his back on her, and her youngest being stubborn and controlling. My sister falls apart and gets upset and angry every time she shares bad news... so it falls on my lap. But my lap is full, my heart is strained, my mind is confused and by supporting so many... I'm left unsupported.

I called Paul hoping to get some support - hoping for some relief, but he only made it worse. He was trying to tell me what to do. He was comparing my situation to that of his parents. He was fighting with me. Instead of just being there. Instead of just being supportive. Instead of just reassuring me that I'm not alone and that he'd help me every step of the way in any way he could. Instead of just saying... it will all be okay. Instead he finished with "Just face the facts! You are the only one! SO JUST DEAL WITH IT!"

Yep, you heard right... that is what he said to me after I pleaded with him to just please be quiet, not try to tell me what to do and instead just support me. And that sent me over the edge. That sent me spiraling down. I cursed at him and hung up the phone. No - not the best course of action. But, it was all I could do. I couldn't control it anymore. I hung up and cried.

Before I even spoke to him... I signed up and got pre-approval from my mental health insurance. I need to go back. I need to talk to someone who will actually listen. It's sad that I need to PAY someone to do this rather than having someone who loves me enough to try and do it on their own. But it's okay. I'm willing to go back. Right now ... it's all too much to bear and I feel myself falling apart and feeling sorry for myself. I can't continue to step in and be strong for everyone if I can no longer be strong for myself.

So far no calls back from any doctors in the area that can help... but I'll keep on trying and hopefully I'll find someone at a convienient location who can help me.

I miss my Papa... and I miss who my Grandma was before he passed away. I miss the life we lead before this all happened. I miss the family that only lives in my memories.

RIP Papa 08.29.08

Dad's

Today ... this made me cry. No, my father isn't in the military and no I'm not waiting for him to come home from war... but separated from everything I've ever known to be a father... I am.

Breakfast with Papa

Yeah, exactly what it sounds like... I slept at M.Y.'s again on Saturday night. I woke up a little late ... showered, through some laundry in the wash, hopped in my car, picked up some breakfast and parked my car at the cemetery. I grabbed my trusty blanked out of my trunk, threw it next to papa's head stone and parked while I munched on my bagel and drank my coffee, talking to my grandpa.

At 1st I was talking out loud, but then fearing the crazy coming on, I just kind of thought out my words. It was nice... a little birthday chat, a little morning conversation, a little peace and alone time to feel what I've been feeling... a sense of emptiness since his death. I know he's not far away... but it takes some convincing when you think back to the days I was able to physically have him by my side.

Thanks for my morning company yesterday, Pa! I really appreciate it.

And thanks, God, for my uninterrupted Papa time. I was able to sit there in peace with not a soul walking by to bother me... not a soul walking by to judge me, and not a family member or loved one coming through whom I'd need to share him with.

Papa, I miss you!

Happy Birthday, Papa!

Papa passed away... a year and a half ago. It's still fresh. It's still sad. It still sucks.
But today is his birthday...
and I won't dwell on him not being here...
I'm just happy that he was here...
that he raised me...
that he was my father when I had none...
I would be a far worse person without him....

Happy Birthday, Papa! Thank you for everything you've done for me. May God bless you, take care of you, and allow you to rest in peace. We love and miss you down here. You will never be forgotten.

Missing you!

Today is on year to the day that I took off from work. To pack our things for our pending move out of NYC and back to Queens. We'd already painted, scrubbed and scoured our new home. As I sat in my cluttered apartment I thought of all the things I still had to do: pack, clean, organize, carry, visit my grandpa (who just got back from vacation with my family) and stay up all night to do more packing.

I called my Grandma who told me to save visiting for later in the day or even tomorrow. My Mom hadn't left her house yet and she wasn't talking to me. My Grandma didn't want to sour my Grandfather's good spirits with negativity which is so evident from my Mom - she wears her heart on her sleeve - or more like her scowling eyes, pursed lips and harsh words.

I relented and stayed home ... packing. Later that night I got a phone call - My grandpa was back in the hospital and was not doing well. I got in the car immediately and headed to LIJ, where I found him in the ER, my Grandma crying, my sister falling apart, my grandma with a oxygen mask on, my aunt and uncle and 2 cousins crying and distraught. I knew then it was worse than him being overly weak. I know it was more than him not breathing well. I knew this wasn't a false alarm.

It was then that my Grandma, hyperventilating, asked me what to do. The doctor had asked her to sign papers, as his chosen person, whether to put him on a respirator if he were to stop breathing on his own. This was a weight no one wanted to carry on their shoulders. I didn't know what to say. I talked to my Uncle and we all concurred that he was tired, that he didn't want to do this anymore, and that keeping him alive via machine was immoral and not what he'd want. Eventually the papers were signed by shaking hands and that was done. We were told to prepare ourselves, it was only a matter of minutes or hours now. So we did... we talked to him, asked him to push through, told him we loved him, and held his hand. My other Uncle came along with his girlfriend. They were both in tears. We were all in disbelief.

Then he was transfered to a room. So we all went upstairs to wait... and wait and wait. Only 2 of us were allowed in at a time. My Grandma should obviously be there. We took turns seeing him, but then my Mother came. She hadn't yet seen him in the hospital and spend some time inside. It was already close to 1AM. My Papa asked to see Amanda & Kyle - so they were woken up and brought upstairs where they sleepily said hello to my Grandpa. Amanda knew this wasn't good but didn't quite understand how bad. The hospital knowing this could be our last moments together, allowed all of us (14 of us) enter his room and spend what felt like only minutes with him, but was actually maybe an hour. We then said good night and left. My Grandma stayed with him through the night. I retreated to my Sister's house where we slept in an extra bedroom not wanting to be too far just in case.

The next morning, I called my Grandma who had stayed all night, with no food, no insulin, and no medication. I was worried, I didn't want to lose them both because she wasn't taking care of herself. I convinced her to let me bring her food and medicine when she all of a sudden said - no you're right, come get me and Lauren will stay here. I will go home, shower, medicate and come back. So that's what we did. I went, Lauren and Paul went upstairs and stayed with Papa and Paul walked my Grandma out to the car. Her cell had died, my phone was left at Lauren's, and we were completely off line. At home, my Grandma showered and I got her things together when the phone started ringing. It was Rommel who now changed his mind - he wanted Papa to fight and do whatever it would take... but that required dialysis - which would prolong his life but not save it. His liver was failing, his kidneys were failing, and his heart was not pumping enough oxygen into his blood stream. He was tired- and we all needed to understand this.

The phone rang again, and thats when I got the worst phone call of my life.... Paul, yelling at me that I'm not picking up my cell phone, that it's an emergency, and I needed to get back NOW! He yelled and yelled and yelled so I got my Grandma and said, it's an emergency we need to get back now! She began freaking out, crying, running, skipped her medicine and we ran to the car. I drove faster than I ever had before, peeled into the ER parking lot and told her to get our and go. A lady saw me frantic and asked if she could help - I told her I was leaving the car, keys and all and a boy named Paul would be running out to get the keys. I told her that if she could watch the car and not let anyone take it unless their name was Paul. Without even caring about the car, I ran away, door open, keys inside, ignition running, and found my Grandma, walking fast, but in circles. I grabbed a wheelchair and put her in it and literally RAN her to my Grandpa. When we got there, we saw his door was closed. When we opened it, I noticed all the monitors off... and Lauren holding his hand crying saying over and over and over again... He's gone.

My grandma broke down. This was nothing short of a disaster for her. Her husband of 47 years and 53 days is gone. She yelled and yelled "Why couldn't you wait for me. I only left your side for a moment. Why wouldn't you let me say goodbye." I knew why he waited... for her to leave. It was all in his last words to me, "Lil, take care of your Mommy Yolly, okay?" He held on all night never giving up because he wanted to make sure my Grandma didn't experience watching him die. Even in his last moments he was trying to protect her. He knew Lauren would be strong. He knew he felt comfortable with her. He knew she was his favorite. He knew it was time. He told her he was tired... laid into her and let go. The doctors came in and unplugged the machines allowing him to take his last breaths in peace.

My Grandma's cousin arrived soon after we did, thinking he was coming for a visit. Once he saw what had happened, he called the rest of the family to have them come. All thinking they were arriving to say goodbye, realized it was too late and broke down. But at that moment we all sat and talked about how much we loved him, with his body still warm by our side. Until we knew it was time to leave, pray, make funeral arrangements, and tend to Amanda and Kyle, children experiencing their 1st death.

Tomorrow - the 1 year anniversary of his death and I still cry. Writing this, my eyes are puffy, and my breathing short. Tomorrow we have a mass dedicated to him at 5PM followed by the rosary at their house, then of course food. I set up the alter last night and felt like he past away only yesterday. I miss him. I miss him every day. The sound of his voice, his silly history channel, his preaching, his food, his hugs, his company... all of him. I really do miss him with all the fibers in my being.

Happy Birthday to Me? in June?

Just an update - Lori and I had a great night on Friday. Dinner was to die for! We ate pound after pound of the perfectly cooked succulent shell fish... stuffed ourselves to the point of excess... and proceeded to have a mud pie for desert! Followed up some aimless driving, adventure, friends, drinks, and nice weather. I couldn't have asked for more.

The next day I spent shopping with my grandma (dress shopping for the wedding ... Lauren's not mine) and then exchanged my too small bridesmaid dress.

After a shower and some refreshing, I was back on my way to her house to meet my 2 cousins and Uncle to have a father's day dinner in my Grandpa's honor ... at the SAME restaurant Lori and I were at the night before.

And we out did ourselves - ordering 3 platters for 2 of 3 different varieties and 2 appetizers. We again ordered a mud pie and were stuffed to oblivion.

Sensing my grandma's loneliness regarding this particular father's day, I decided to sleep over. The next day we had breakfast with Lauren and Bryan... went to Church, went to the cometary, again went dress shopping and had a nice BBQ at my other Uncle's house. Fun was had by all.

Yea my other Uncle didn't come to any events and didn't bother to speak to my Grandma because he is immature... jealous... self centered - but we moved on. Yeah My mom didn't call, answer calls, show up, or even act as if the day was important to her - but we moved on. And I'm grateful to the family I have who can move forward... positive... loving... loved

Happy Father's Day

A very happy father's day to the best father I could have ever had... Pa, you are missed and thought of every moment of every day. We love you!

Your Lil

Grizzle Dizzle

Today is perfectly dreary to match my mood. Our dog is being put to sleep today... It just plain sucks.

He isn't himself... hardly playful, hardly happy, hardly eating. He went from 98lbs to 54lbs and the vet tells us it's time to say goodbye before he really begins to suffer.

Years ago... young, excited, pet-less... our Uncle Edwin took us to Northshore Animal Shelter where Lauren fell in love with a chow chow mix... it had a purple and pink tie-die tongue and it was love at 1st site. We went home and begged and begged but my grandma said... NO, no more pets!

An aunt convinced her to just go and take a look... I wasn't home, so Lauren, my grams and an aunt went and it didn't take much convincing... they came home with Grizzly (the chow chow was already adopted - yey for us).

Griz is an all black Labrador retriever. He looked like a teddy bear and thus was named Grizzly Bear. He was the love of everyone's life. He loves to swim, play, go upstate, run, and hang with people and other dogs. He thinks he's human, always wanting to sit upright in a chair. When he's sick, we've even fed him with a spoon... he is much to sophisticated to eat strait out of a bowl.

A Few years ago we found a fatty tumor on his side. He had surgery and it was removed. We were told it wasn't cancer and he'd be okay... but he wasn't. He has a softball sized tumor in his neck which threatens to block his air passage, throat, and the nerves that help him to move. The tumor has grown over the years and the doctors don't think its safe to operate. He has also developed other small tumors throughout his body. As it turns out, our Grizzly does have cancer after all.

Today my family will accompany him to a vet for him to be put to sleep. He will be cremated and placed in an urn, just like our precious Sheba before him. We love our pets like family, and treat them as such.

Last night, Lauren, Edwin, Paul, Bryan and I all went to my grandma's to have our last moments with Grizzly. He was definitely not himself. He was tired, having trouble breathing, and irritated with his condition. He even smells sick. I've come to accept that it's time. I rather him die peacefully then suffer. Unlike humans, he is unable to complain, or tell us what he wants us to do. I hope we are making the right decision. I hope we are being humane. I hope we aren't killing a being who wants to live.

So today at 4PM my grandma, uncle and Lauren will all be with him and watch him take his last breath. A traumatizing event I'm sure.

He is the dog who loved to bury himself in snow so only his little black head would stick out.

He is the dog who would jump in any river no matter how strong the current or how deep.

He is the dog that acted like a small puppy during any thunderstorms, always scared, braking furniture looking for a hiding spot.

He is the dog who would sacrifice himself for his family... he is a good dog. We will miss him.


I pray that we are doing the right thing.
I pray that my family gets through this.
I pray that so soon after my grandpa's death, they can be okay.
And I pray that in heaven my grandpa will enjoy his companion he hasn't seen since August.

Missing You

I miss him a lot. He was important to me. He was my father.... grandfather... friend.

I wish I could have shared this week with him... and every other week since he's past on.

I miss you, Pa.

A Good Friend

Is one who picks up your camera and
takes a picture of you because
he/she thinks you look that beautiful.

Happy Birthday

Counting my Blessings (Literally) (11-20)

11^th, I am thankful for my friends, though few, they are my confidants, my accomplices, and my mentors in life. Through their eyes, I see our futures and our pasts. I feel their presence within me when they are gone. I live and breathe in order to make them proud. They are my 2^nd family. They inspire me. They define me. They reflect me. I could not survive without them. They are all different… but together we bring balance to our lives.

12^th, I’m thankful for my self. Because of the people listed above, I’ve been able to live independently. I’ve been able to stay strong after many falls. I’ve been able to move past my irrationality and see what is truly important. I’m grateful to God for giving me strength of character and physicality. For providing me with the emotional stability needed to improve my life. For the mental capacity necessary to learn and achieve one’s goals. And for motivating me to move forward when all I could see was down. Mypassions are few but strong and at once there were all nothing… I regained that passion and continued to improve my life. I hope I continue to do so. I hope I continue to experience new and exciting things, to live life fully, and to work hard towards the goals I’ve set myself out to achieve.

13^th, this was the candle I had given Megan at my Sweet 16, which makes me realize, I’m grateful for my enemies or better yet, those who are no longer my friends. Without them, I would never truly recognize my friends. My enemies have helped me grow… grow thicker skin and grow a sense of self preservation. They’ve allowed me to realize that there is in fact good in bad in the world to all degrees. They’ve helped me be able to define myself apart from the qualities which I would not want to be preserved. They’ve tested my resilience. I truly believe in many of these situations I’ve come out on top. I don’t wish them ill (well most of them) because the way they live their lives is poor enough. They haven’t enriched their lives (non-materially) and therefore have not grown. I do not believe people can easily change their character but they can change and I hope they do. I hope that they find themselves and that person is someone they can live with.

14^th, I’m blessed to have a job… any job, but better yet one with stability. We’ve seen the economy hit some astronomical lows and some ridicules highs in our lifetime. We had the dotcom boom followed by its crash… 9-11… and the hypocrisy of Enron, Tyco, Worldcom, Lehman Bros, etc… Many individuals with 1^st rate educations and a wonderful work ethic are left collecting unemployment while going home to apply for any job they can from a financial assistant to starbucks barista. It was not there fault, but they are stuck and I respect them for doing all they can, even settling for a barista job. It’s not a great place out there to be stuck without a job, prices are going up, and paychecks are coming down. I might not always enjoy my job or the people I’m stuck with but I have one and I’m good at it. I appreciate the small challenges I’m faced with but sometimes I wish I had more. I’m glad for this career’s flexibility and for the doors it has opened for me. I’m glad all the hard work has paid off and I pray it continues to do so. I know that somewhere out there, I could be in a bigger office on a higher floor working longer hours and bringing in more money, but is that really what I want?

15^th, my plants. I know that sounds completely stupid but seriously, they’ve created a routine in my life that I’ve never really had before. I don’t think having a pet is fair since I am out of the house a lot and live in a 1 bedroom apartment, but I do admit to having about 20 plants and I take care of each and every one of them… though 2 are looking kinda dead right about now. These plants have been therapeutic for me. I’m proud when they grow and look healthy and I worry when they look sick. I do research to see what might be wrong and I try and take care of them. I think it helps me relax and it makes my living environment pleasant.

16^th, my home. It’s not mine per say since I’m only a renter, but we’ve really made it our own. Having not lived under may parents roof since I left for college I always treasured my space until my post John Paul life living in my 3 BR in Bellerose. I lost all control of my lifestyle and lived in a mess. My apartment was trashed with junk everywhere and I could not keep up with my self destructive lifestyle. So much for being on the cover of Good Housekeeping. I was always so neat, to the point of OCD and then it was gone. Meeting Paul, I tried to keep up a cleanly and neat outward appearance but couldn’t keep up with my laziness. A few years later we would have moved into our 1^st apartment together in Manhattan where I was forced to rid myself of more than 50% of my useless crap and I did… thank goodness! I was finally well on my way to ridding myself of all that extra baggage (sometimes literally). Our new apartment was small but beautiful and we kept it spic and span, because if you didn’t, you’d have no place to sit or walk. Eventually we moved yet again to our Kew Gardens apartment and I love it! It’s big and its home. I feel comfortable here. Its Queens (and I love Queens over all other Boroughs). Best yet it can hold all our stuff from furniture to snowboard equipment. Did I mention if I’m in one room and try and talk to Paul, he can’t hear me… that’s how big it is. I’m greatful… because it was a dirty mess when we looked at it… (hence the price) and we walked away. But soon after we saw its potential and changed our minds. After a LOT of cleaning, a few coats of paint and some love, we’ve made it into a great living space we can call home. Even after Paul moves north to Beantown… I’ll be keeping our apartment warm… and keep his side of the bed empty for when he comes home.

17^th, food. I’ve never had trouble with money. I know there are people out there who must clip coupons, eat pasta every night, or plain junk. I’ve never been in this situation. Having had a job most of my life and being a diligent saver, I’ve always been able to satisfy my cravings whether that mean a nice steak dinner, a night in, a 5 course meal, or a drive down to MD for some crab, I’ve been able to do it. And I’m lucky because eating what you want when you want it is a luxury.

18^th, freedom. I am truly a free spirit tied down by nothing but my own mind. I have the usual responsibilities such as my career, bills, loved ones, and well that’s about it. I’m able to leave my home when I chose, eat when I desire, travel when I feel it’s time. I’m able to wear what I like, be with whom I please. More or less, I’m free and many in this world are confined by both tangible and intangible boundaries which others or they have placed around them.

19^th, I draw a blank but this list does go on… maybe I’ll add to it as I think of things.

Maybe 19 should be my ability to read and write (again, some cannot) because I believe writing is the easiest form of expression…. But I’ll save that for another day.

Counting my Blessings (Literally) (1-10)

My blessings are not few… but I’ve glanced at the things I’ve written here again and noticed that aside from 1 blog, much as been written about snowboarding or just flat out negativity.

I have a full life and am blessed and though some things in my life cause anxiety, anger, confusion, loneliness, and upset; can’t we all relate to those common feelings in life?

1^st, I have my life and I arguably control it independently

2^nd, I have my grandmother. She is like the stock in a good soup, without it things would be dried out and flavorless. Nothing would come together. She is an amazing person… she’s gone through a lot and is resilient. She enjoys everyone’s company and tolerates a lot. She forgives everyone no matter how horrendous the offense and she does it before hearing the apology. She loves unconditionally and her actions speak louder than words. I didn’t hear the words I love you often as a child, but I knew that I was loved. I had a life better than most because instead of having 1 mother, I had 2 and for some time, even 3.

3^rd, I have Lauren. She is my frenemy… both friend, both enemy. She is both my opposite and my twin. She gives me balance. She reminds me what it means to be a good sister while helping me be a good mentor. She also allows me to be a kid. It is only with her that I can giggle uncontrollably about nothing at all, wrestle each other to the ground, speak in a foreign language, tease my grandma, and argue about nothing. She brings me back to childhood in every good way possible… and bad.

4^th, I have Amanda, my distant sister at one time, only relating to Lauren. She has grown to be quite some young lady and quite some friend. Now we can chat on the phone for hours, joke about things, she can call and ask me for advice regarding friends, events, sports and boys. Yes she finally plays sports and looks to me… kind of exciting. I’ve embodied playing the role of big sister rather than distant relative. I’ve even stepped up to play the role of 2^nd mother, handling business that needs to be handled and stepping up when my mother cannot. I try to be her rock and in a lot of ways she tries to be mine. She is well above her years and she is an amazing human being. One day, she will surprise us all by showing what I’ve been seeing all along – a truly selfless and talented person, capable of all things she sets out to do. She is my hero in many ways… and all before the age of 10.

5^th, I have Kyle, my little ski wonder and soccer super star. A boy after my own heart. He and I hit it off the minute he could crawl… I wasn’t that big of a fan of him as an infant – I have a thing about soft sculls and soft poop. He soon grew up to be a sarcastic, athletic, silly, heart warming jerk… my kind of boy ;). He resembles Lauren in many ways while Amanda resembles me… maybe that is why the dynamic worked itself out the way it did… Kyle and Lilia and Amanda and Lauren. This little bundle of joy has brought our whole family together and though he is a spoiled little brat, he never ceases to make us all smile. I’m excited to watch him grow and evolve into a young man. I’m excited to see what he does and says and I’m excited to be close to my brother, I’ve always wanted one. A true blessing from God, and for all 5 of the blessings listed above, I think God for them.

6^th, I thank God for my Mother. She is complex, somewhat hard, yet entirely soft. She’s struggled and still does today, and I want to help her. I want her to be happy and to get to a good place. I want to help her be a great mother and I want to be a good daughter to her. I’m thankful for her sacrifices and I’m thankful for the experiences she’s allowed me to have. Despite money being thin, we never had a shortage of activities, traveling, experiences, and events. She taught us independence and she fostered self discipline. She made me who I am today. Without her tough love attitude, I’d maybe be no where now. Without her endless criticism, I’d never feel the need to achieve. Without her example, I’d not know what qualities I wish to inherent from my family. I hope to take the good from everyone and include them in who I am today and who I will be in the future.

7^th, though I should have mentioned earlier, I have my Grandpa. Though deceased, he has created for me a life most children could never imagine. He taught me wonder and helped foster my imagination, while keeping me grounded in reality. He allowed me to be a child yet helped me become an adult. He loved me unconditionally. He disciplined me. He helped me prioritize, he taught me about respect, the importance of education, and love. He helped me understand, tolerate, accept, and LOVE my family. Through him I’ve learned much there is to learn about sacrifice and tolerance… possibly my biggest short coming.

8^th, but definitely more than a single person, I have the remainder of my family. At times bonded together like cement and at others separated like grains of sand, we are still a family. When needed, we flocked together like geese never allowing 1 to fall and always helping each other fly. They are all different and they all have their good and bad. They’ve been both good examples and bad… and because of this I can see now what qualities I want to embody and those I want to leave behind. Through them, I’ve been held up when I was down and brought back down when I was soaring unreasonably high.

9^th, I have my health… at sometimes its suspect but I have no devastating diseases or conditions. My scoliosis is mild and the pain can be relieved with physical therapy and at times some drugs. My arthritis is much the same. I have perfect eye site, I have good hearing, all my limbs and organs are functioning as they are supposed to. All is well in the world of health.

10^th, I’m thankful my Paul, he is the biggest and most important individual in my life on a day to day basis. Aside from my family, he is all that helps me through encouragement and criticism. He pushes me in ways most people wouldn’t waste their time.
He tolerates me. He even tolerates my intolerability. He is there for me as much as he can be. He tries to understand me. He is kind, gentle, passionate, and he loves me. I’ve never met someone so self-righteous and so self –effacing at the same time. He is an enigma to me and every day I learn something new about him allowing me to fall in love with him all over again. I cherish our time together; for right now it is daily but will soon be only on the weekends moving back into our all too familiar world of long distance. We have a dynamic allowing for such a horrendous way to live (LDR). It consists of absolute trust and communication. There is nothing I won’t tell him and honesty is our key. We indulge in each other when we can and when we are apart we fast and yearn for next time. I will fight tooth and nail before I let this relationship end… it’s been a dream come true without leaving reality.

Consequences and Remorse

Certain horrible circumstances came to my attention today concerning a friend. It’s left me in a very low state. It’s brought me to think of many people in my life; their stories are all sad and all tragic.

My mind wandered to Ginamarie… or just Gina as I called her. She was a petite Italian girl with a timid yet confident attitude that made you want to hug her. She was my classmate in college and a study buddy at times. We never grew close enough to go out to the bars together or get to know each other’s outside of school friends/family.

Gina was killed in a DWI back on Oct 7, 2004. I got the phone call on the 8th and basically became useless at work and went home. I met with a mutual friend/acquaintance, Brad, who together with his girlfriend, helped me get through this. I attended her wake where I saw parents, brothers, and cousins screaming in agony. The driver was her boyfriend who called 911 and lied saying he wasn’t the driver as Gina and a friend were dying, crushed inside the car unable to get them out. How dare he think of a scapegoat while my friend sat there dying.

His lawyer later made a statement that his alcohol level must have been a mistake (2 hours after the accident) because witnesses claimed he had only had 4 beers and hours before the accident. They also contested that he is a diabetic and his blood sugar was very low, possibly causing the accident.

The State Police mishandled the blood sample taken at the scene of the crime which would have been the proof behind his blood alcohol level. He later pleaded guilty to Vehicular Manslaughter… a lesser charge than Second Degree Murder. Mind you this was his second DWI offense… at his first, he was let go with a fine of only about $300. He was driving home from a Chili’s in Long Island after drinks while watching the Yankee game. Southbound on the Wantagh Parkway at about 120 MPH in his Infinity 35 he lost control and veered into a tree crushing the car like tin foil after your lunch is done. All this while Gina and a friend sat in the car.

A judge sentenced him 2 years later to 2 1/3 – 7 year prison term. Do I think this is enough? At first I though yes, I mean the biggest punishment will be living your life knowing you killed a friend and a girlfriend; the friend just before his wedding and the girlfriend before even reaching the age of 24. But instead of mourning the deaths he caused, he sat in the sun, relaxed and tanned. Even took pictures grinning like the grim reaper holding a corona. It was this very picture that the judge waved while he gave him his sentence, saying “Only God knows why I was spared and their souls were taken” as well as “You've got Ginamarie and Matthew's lives on your shoulders, and every time you take a drink you despise their memories”

I cannot stop thinking of her and thinking of these creeps that cannot control themselves or their habits. I know everyone make mistakes and this could happen to anyone but he gives no true remorse. His actions were loud and clear when he picked up another drink… his words were deemed inconsequential to his actions.

Gina, you are in my prayers and you are missed. May God hold you in his arms and allow you to rest in peace.

Jimmy Eat World - Hear you Me

Quite possibly my favorite song. I never realized that its from the "Cinderalla Story" - a Hillary Duff film, but if I ignore that fact, I can still call it an amazing song! I found it on youtube but its set to the movie, so don't watch it, just HEAR it - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vgvgOgC8Sk0


There's no one in town I know
You gave us someplace to go
I never said thank you for that
Thought I might get one more chance

What would you think of me now?
So lucky S
o strong
So proud
I Never said thank you for that
Now I'll never have a chance

May angels lead you in
Hear you me my friends
On sleepless roads the sleepless go
May angels lead you in

What would you think of me now?
So lucky
So strong
So proud
I Never said thank you for that
Now I'll never have a chance

May angels lead you in
Hear you me my friends
On sleepless roads the sleepless go
May angels lead you in

And if you were with me tonight
I'd sing to you just one more time
A song for a heart so big
God couldn't let it live

May angels lead you in
Hear you me my friends
On sleepless roads the sleepless go
May angels lead you in

May angels lead you in
Hear you me my friends
On sleepless roads the sleepless go
May angels lead you in

Fatherly "Love"

I know I’m being tested. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. A person doesn’t undergo stresses of astronomical proportions due to the loss of a VERY Close LOVED ONE, the failing health of a good uncle, the duties of being a sister to a very stressed out soon to be bride, a Granddaughter of a widow, a daughter to a soon to be divorcee, a girlfriend to a jealous boyfriend, a friend to a needing friend, an employee in a very taxing position, and then the daughter of a stroke victim, your estranged father.

So that’s the new news of my life, my father, a man I have spoken to twice in 5 years had a massive stroke (rating of 22). He is beginning his recovery process and is doing exceptionally well. He did have paralysis of the left side of his body, but can now feel his leg and even has taken a few steps with aid and a walker. He can feel ½ his arm and today, managed to move his fingers a little if he really concentrates. He can still only feel ½ his mouth but can now talk in understandable sentences, though still obviously struggling with word formation and pronunciation. But he has yet to regain any sight in his left eye. From what I understand none of this has to be permanent, and there are no answers. So for the moment, it looks good. Looks like God is giving him a second chance, I wonder what he’ll do with it. I won’t be getting my hopes up.

So now that I’ve got the technical BS down, it’s obviously pretty serious. Now death serious, but you never know. My 4th grade teacher had a stroke, and passed away, after being cleared, stabilized, and released to rehab. That hits pretty close to home. I think I now have a fear of rehabilitation facilities. I will be attending her wake tomorrow. I owe all my math skills to her, and I did end up being an accountant after all. She was a good lady and a good teacher and she will be missed. Many young minds will not have the privilege of being molded by hear and that is unfortunate.

It is kind of surreal you know. I spoke to one Aunt (My Dad’s sister-in-law) getting all the details. She called to let me know what happened, making sure to say “we were letting everyone know, and then I realized that no one had told you girls”. Clearly not just has my father easily pushed us to the back of his mind, but the whole family was able to do the same. I suppose its easier and better that way. At least she called. I called my Dad’s ex-wife (the 2nd one, and mother to Luke and Lindsay), to inform her of what happened. I knew she’d want to know, and I knew that I’d end up being the one to tell her. It was strange hearing her voice again, it’s been at least 9 years, and even then it was under uncomfortable circumstances. I then spoke to my other Aunt (My Dad’s other sister-in-law), and how strange that was. We spoke to 2 hours and 15 minutes. And we talked about everything from my feelings about my Dad, and hers, to just the regular catching up. It was good in a lot of ways, but sometimes it’s not good either. Sometimes you get your hopes up, sometimes you get confused, and sometimes it just makes you plain think too much. Its hard to accept people saying they understand how you feel when they haven’t been around… I guess they might mean it, and I guess they might not. I won’t try and dissect what they say for anything more than what it is, I guess.

I felt in the dark yesterday, I didn’t know what was going on and if he was okay. I also didn’t understand the severity of the incident. I called the hospital in hopes of getting more information and getting a better understanding of his recover. I was able to speak to my step-mom who definitely filled me in on the details. I then spoke to my Dad which was a harrowing experience.

It’s strange how not hearing his voice for 3 years still doesn’t allow you to forget how it sounds. His voice, though in tone and volume sounded exactly the same, sounded strange. He struggled to get the words out and stuttered at times. He had a difficult time pronouncing words. Of course he is upset and my Father, being a naturally emotional person tends to show his emotions easily. This is never such an easy task for me. I can remain calm through certain circumstances where the average person may not. I tend to greave in private.

My sister decided to drive to MD today to see him. I think its particular brave of my sister to do this, especially without me. She didn’t even attend his wedding ~7 years ago yet she’d run to his side while he lay on a hospital bed. Maybe I am more stubborn or maybe I just react differently, but I am in no rush. Not because I think I shouldn’t but because I like to avoid the hard things we have to endure in our lives. But I know I need to go see him. I know I’d regret it if I don’t. And I know I was raised better than that. I know it’s what Papa would want me to do, and my Grandma has said enough times that it is what She wants me to do. As a matter of fact, she’d like to come with me, along with my uncle. Not that my Dad necessarily deserves it, but I suppose he gets our support. With that being said, I am off to MD this Sunday to see my Father. I’m attempting to mentally prepare for this experience. I hope that I can hold it together.

Anyway – my mind is beginning to wander… its largely because my stomach acid is slowly eating away at my stomach lining … I’m STARVING and cannot think, so I will just end it here.

Keep my Dad in your prayers… if not that he gets better physically, that maybe he can find peace with himself and that he doest waste this 2nd chance he has at life … and in my opinion… my Dad is a cat, because this is more like his 9th shot at life… and last I checked, cats only get 9. He better use it wisely.

I miss you!

So I started this blog, maybe last week and have yet to write a single word or phrase. I’ve truly been in a rut since the summer started, having my grandfather fall ill and eventually pass away makes 2008 the worst year of my life. 2008 was filled with random adventures from living in NYC, skiing the Colorado Mountains, the changing and ultimate improvement of my lifestyle, the pending divorce of my mom, yet with this list of great things, I cannot help but constantly think of my Grandpa, my Dad, and most importantly, my Papa.

Today at 11:07AM marks the one month anniversary of his death. Its been an emotional weekend leading up until today. I must admit, I am not one to show emotion, I tend rather to isolate myself, keep myself excessively busy, or worse, get superiorly cranky with no explanation. I would say this weekend was a mixture of all of the above. Today however has just been depression, a down day. I wish I could have left work today, just to go home and put on some comfortable cloths and walk aimlessly for hours. I like to walk aimlessly, it allows me to think. I can’t say that I’ve done it in a while.

While Papa was in the rehabilitation center at Long Island Jewish, my favorite part of the day tended to be the long walk from the car to the center and back. Though, I usually had anxiety coming in and anxiety coming out for fear of seeing him still sick and leaving him alone at night, I also felt free, like I could finally breathe. While at his funeral, I kept the funeral director informed of my comfort level when concerning temperature, which usually meant the room was frigid. It helped me get through the day, as funeral homes can feel suffocating, between the emotion, the people, and the place you can’t bring yourself to look at, the coffin.

Now, I’ve been dealing with his loss for one month, exactly 31 days and 4 hours and 35 minutes, but I think it’s safe to say that we lost him on June 16th, the day of his heart surgery. He never recovered and was never again the same. His health began to fail noticeably in January of 2008, we thought it was a bad cold, maybe old age, but it was much worse. In the end, he couldn’t fight anymore, he was too tired, and he wanted to rest… he wanted that peace that was not attainable on this earth, he wanted everlasting rest with God.

I was never such a religious person. I was an alter girl once upon a time, but I must admit, I think I liked the idea of being one to see my friends and being one of the first girls in my diocese, and one of the first of my parish. While Papa was sick, my Grandma and I went to Our Lady of Lourdes for Sunday mass. When I went to visit him at LIJ, I told him that I went today, and he scolded me telling me that going on Sunday shouldn’t be a big deal, that I should have been doing this all along. That going to church is my obligation to God, and that I should never forget to pray. Since his death, I’ve never missed a Sunday. For the first time, I can’t imagine skipping mass for fear that he would know that I didn’t have a change to pray for him and to pray for his soul still in purgatory. I ask Jesus, God, and the Virgin Mary to pray for his soul all the time, I ask him to forgive him of his sins and to open the gates of heaven for him.

Before he died, we were told he had anywhere from 2 hours to 2 days. We were in the emergency room and they let my whole family, immediate and extended in the room despite how in the way we might have been. Its when you knew it was the end, they normally are pretty tight with that kind of thing. It was me who forgot my cell phone, who couldn’t get myself and my grandma back into the room in time to say good bye. It was me who forced my Grandma to leave the hospital so she could take her medicine. I don’t completely regret these things, I don’t know if it would have been better with my Grandmother in the room as he closed his eyes for the last time and took his final breaths, but what I do know is that I wish I could have been there, I wish I could have been holding his right hand, as my sister held the left… we were his little girls after all.

Because his pending recover turned into his swift decline, no priest was called to give him his last rights or the anointing of the sick, however, they did bless him after his passing. For a religious man, I know my Grandfather was still a sinner, as we all are. I also know that he made peace with his daemons, he made peace with God, and he was prepared for what was in store for him in the afterlife, which would be nothing short of love and forgiveness.

I miss him so much these days. I look at my grandmother and can’t help but think of them as a pair. I think of my brother, only 4, and how close they were… his little grandson… or as the nurses at LIJ knew, his youngest son! At four, Kyle will hardly remember the shape of his face, let alone the size of his heart as an adult. Even Amanda at nine will begin to forget. I know that I can’t let that happen, that forever, the stories that bring him life again will be told around tables, living rooms, parks and cars until people are so sick of hearing the stories, they begin to share their own.

Many people aren’t given a second chance, I had two chances at having a father. Having a poor relationship with my own since childhood, my grandfather took me as his own… never introducing him or knowing him as anything but Papa. He is a huge reason of why I am today, and I know that he is proud of who that someone is. I owe it to him, without him, I’d be nothing.

I will end it with this quote, the one I placed under his portrait at the wake and the one that helps be look at the brighter side of his death.

“Death is not extinguishing the light; it is only putting out the lamp because the dawn has come.” - Rabindranath Tagore

Actually let me end it with what is on the back of his prayer card, I carry it always, and read it daily.

“God saw you were getting tired and a cure was not to be,
So He put His arms around you and whispered, “Come to Me.”
With tearful eyes we watched you, and saw you pass away.
Although we loved you dearly, we could not make you stay.
A golden heart stopped beating, hard working hands at rest.
God broke our hearts to prove to us, He only takes the best.