Mother's Day

I love my mom.  That’s actually a song. “I love my mom”. Funny song.  True song.

Today I write for the celebrations of Mother’s Day. Happy Mother’s Day.

 I also write today a long letter of deep condolences to all of my friends who have lost their mothers perhaps recently, perhaps many years ago. (I suggest the tissues be near)

When I was a little girl, I would to pray to God that he not take my mother until I was able to care for myself.  I thank God every day that he knows I cannot yet take care of myself still at 44.  (And, just so God can be clear, it looks like I will need her for at least the next 50!!!)

She is and always has been a terrific mother.  Although I am not the type to call multiple times per day or even everyday, I need her in my life for sheer survival.  Somedays I feel I need her more now than I ever did when I was a little girl. On the days I cannot breathe, the days that life is so overwhelming, she is my oxygen tank. I have always known this to be true and, through my life’s endeavors, she has yet to let me down. After seeing the movie, “The Titanic”, with a boyfriend  I remember him asking me a hypothetical question.  “Titanic’s going down, lifeboat only has room for one. Your mom or me?”  Ha ha! Without hesitation…-my mother. Because you just can’t ever get another one of those.

Mother’s Day also happens to be my alarm clock: time to make mammogram appointment.  I schedule the appointment usually around Mother’s Day, which is a bit symbolic.  I usually try to take the day off of work.  It’s an emotional day.  The mammogram itself is not painful (although extremely uncomfortable). The worst, of course, is the wait. 

“See you next year.” Sweet words.

After hearing them, though, I sob.  I sob because I know.  I know that some woman perhaps on that very same day and perhaps in that very same radiology building will hear different words, words that will change everything she knows about her life as she knows it now.  She will be someone’s daughter, someone’s aunt, someone’s sister, someone’s wife, someone’s mother, someone’s grandmother.  My own grandmother, Rose, a woman I never had the chance to meet, met her match in her late 30’s: breast cancer.  She was buried before her 40^th birthday. She left her three young children behind.  Motherless children…… I guess we all get there just at different times.

  So to you, my friends who have lost their mothers, (their cheerleaders, babysitters, advisers, best friends, care takers, life lines), I am so, so, so, so, deeply sorry.

My favorite author, Anna Quindlen often writes about the impact of losing her mother at a young age.  I remember once she wrote about how being motherless is somehow defining; like it’s one of those pertinent pieces of information that another person must know about you before going any further.  As if the greeting would look something like this. “Hello, my name is Anna and my mother died…. when I was 19.”  It tells a story.  A sad story.  It tells who you are and what you’ve lived through. This makes sense to me. 

 

  When I hear for the first time that someone I know is motherless, a physiological reaction rumbles through me.  And of course my eyes swell.  I cannot control my deep sadness.  Sometimes, this can happen with a complete stranger.  Sometimes, it’s when I hear from someone I know but I guess didn’t really know.  “You lost your mom?”  ….”How old were you?”

”How do you do it?” “How the hell do you do it?”

Two stories.  Both about mothers. Both featuring Italians (Gotta give it to the Italians, no holding back on the emotions.)  Meet Mike and Anna. Read their parts with heavy Italian accents and you will achieve the full effect.

Mike is my good friend’s Uncle.  He is from Italy.  I had seen him a few years back at a family party my friend was having.

Me, “Mike, it’s been a long time.  How are you?”

Mike responds with head down seemingly in mourning, “I ya ok.  Ya know…. My mother passed.”

Me, “Yes Mike, I know. I am so sorry for your loss”

Mike’s mother passed about 9 years earlier.  Apparently he’s not planning on letting go anytime soon. No judgement here.  In fact, perfectly understandable. 

Then there’s Anna, a woman who lived next to my grandmother.  My mother ran into Anna  somewhat recently.

My mother, “Anna, how are you?”

Anna, “I ama sad, Leenda.  I amma no good.  Ya know, Leenda, I wassa robbed you know, ROBBED!” 

The “robbed” Anna is referring to is her mother’s death. She is having a hard time.  Anna is well into her 60’s.  Her mother passed in her 80’s. While Anna was married and had children, even grandchildren of her own, and lived most of her life with her mother, she still feels that her mother was taken from her too soon.  She was robbed……. at 65.  Why of course she was.

Well said Anna.

With the exception of Mike and Anna, I am amazed at how the motherless do not seem to be angry with God, and the universe, and whomever they may think is in charge.  They seem to move on gracefully and have thankfully come to terms or made peace or whatever people say.  But I want them to know, that they have every right to be angry and that they have been wronged, and one day when they get to heaven, they really should give whoever the powers that be a good piece of their mind, because that was wrong…. Very, very wrong.

To my friends who were robbed at 58, at 40, at 36, at 34, at 29, at 26, at 18, at 9, at 3, I am so truly sorry.

Happy Mother’s Day ….. to your mothers wherever their souls may be. Which I hope is somewhere inside of you.

And to my friends, Sabena Rhee Jones and Carrie Ashford, young mothers who never made 40, whose young children were robbed as young as 8 months old, I will kick your asses someday for leaving too soon. 

Thank you also for reminding me how lucky I am to still have my mother, and an extraordinary one at that.  I may roll my eyes, or get agitated, or lose my patience, but because of you, I promise I will never take for granted how lucky I am.  I love my mom.

Mother's Day 2013

My mom's pride-It is truly joyous to watch her as a grandma.  Her only two grandchildren ADORE her!

Giana turns 11 today. And with this birthday is the arrival of all the sass and attitude I knew was attached to the number. She thinks she knows everything now for clearly she is wiser than she was a year ago and besides that, how much is there really to know about life anyway? :) She will begin to tell me that I don't know anything - after all "mom, you're a teenager of the 80's" as she often loves to remind me- whatever that has to do with anything. Things she once thought were funny are now suddenly incredibly annoying especially when it's me doing it. She will tell me she hates me ....starting soon. It will hurt.

But it's ok because I know she is about to begin a new stage in her life. She will still love me and need me despite her deep belief that she doesn't. I know this all because I did it to my own mother who I of course love so much and need still at ripe old age of 43 (although I swear it was a brief stage and started much later). So my vow for the next few years is that I will try to keep my cool, not take anything personally and remember always that she is my star; the strong, creative, unique little person I always dreamed of knowing. I will kiss her and hug her and "love her up" as I always did. Happy Birthday Butterfly! Thanks for all the joy you have brought and will continue to bring to my life. I love you so much xoxox.

A Decade's Worth of Living

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 Dear Giana,                                                                                                  January 27, 2013

Today you are 10 years old.  You have completed your first decade of life. 

I will never forget “our” birth story.  Holding you in my arms the first night, afraid I was not really prepared for this moment, euphoric, high on hormones, weepy.  I said my first prayer over you.  “Dear God, Please make sure the world is kind to her, my little girl!” 

Funny that’s what I said.  After knowing you these last ten years how would I have ever known that it would be you to grab hold of all that the world has to offer, take no prisoners, be true to who you are, and unleash your own wrath of wit, love, and determination.  And, while I wish I could take one tiny piece of credit for all that you are, I cannot.  For you are everything I aspire to be when I grow up. 

Blueberry Picking- 5 Years old

What I want you to know......

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I love you so very much.

I do not love you for your finesse on the basketball court or your wisdom and leadership on the softball field. I do not love you for your school success or your test scores (Lord knows not those spelling tests!!).  I do not love you for the amazing artwork you create on a daily basis.  I do not love you because you are a creative and skilled writer. I do not love you because you are the only 9 year old girl who knows as much about football as any NFL analyst, or because you have perfected a layup or throw a darn good spiral.

Of course you are all these things. 

And as proud of all this as I am, I would love you the same if you were none of them.  I love you  because of WHO you are: a kind, compassionate, loving, beautiful (inside kind and outside) amazing, fearless, bold, unique little girl.  

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Your next decade will be filled with amazing growth.  Soon you will be a tween, then teen then onward to early adulthood.  All in the next 10. You will learn to drive, choose a college, vote.  You may get disappointed, fail a test, get confused, fall in love, break a bone (I hope not!).  All in the next 10.   Sometimes it’s so hard to believe or imagine or even think about. 

Here’s what I need you to know as you head into your next decade.

Mommy's 10 for Your Next 10!

1)    Know what you have already started to learn: dedication and hard work pay off in ways you may not even expect. 

2)    Choose your friends wisely.  You are off to an amazing start.  Choose friends who share the same interests, and choose friends who will broaden your horizons.  Choose friends who are good-hearted, good listeners, and can make you laugh. 

3)    Take good care of your brother.  You are his favorite person in the world.

4)    Eat more vegetables.

5)    Eat less chips.

6)    Don’t worry about spelling.  (I know you already don’t)

7)    Continue to make your beautiful artwork.  Perfect the human face as you have been striving for all of these years.  Your human connection through artwork will continue to amaze.

8)    Care so deeply you cry.

9)    Rely on your family.  We will always be here for you.

10) Be who you are always.  Remember there is no one else to be but your special, unique self.

“Dear God, You have added a special light to the world.  She will shine as you intended”

Love you

Mommy 

Giana almost 3, Johnny 6 months

Almost 10!

How Will I Know?

I’ve been thinking lately much about life’s decisions and how you never really know if you are ever doing the right thing.

Recently my son, age 6, asked two good “how will I know?” questions. 

The first, after a developmental level coach pitched baseball game, Johnny asked, “Mommy, how will I know a pitch is the right one to swing at?”  I know this is a pretty good question because I spent a bit of time coming up with my answer.  (My daughter has yet to ask it and she has been playing softball now for a number of years—I am sure most baseball/softball players DON’T ask it.  But surely, they wonder, no?)

“You’ll learn over time,” I responded.  “Your eyes and mind and experience will help you to know.  You will swing and miss at many bad pitches but each time, you will learn.  And soon you’ll recognize most of the good ones.  Well,…..and then there are these tricky ones….” And on and on I went. His eyes first filled with interest, then anxiety, and then he started playing with his cars.  I doubt he got an acceptable answer but he is relieved he won’t have to worry about it until next baseball season. 

            I realized that life is a series of decisions both large and small, those with enormous impact and those whose “impacts” are relatively inconsequential. 

Should I swing at this high pitch?

Should I dive into the water?

Should I change jobs?

Should I have another child?

Should I stay? Should I go? Should I just stand still?

How will I know what to do?

In any given day, from the moment the alarm goes off, we are faced with possibly a 1000 choices. (Probably many many more).  Maybe it goes something like this- Do I have time to hit snooze? What should I wear? Should I put some laundry in now? To headband or not headband? Breakfast at home or work? And so it begins.  Of course, each decision has its consequences-good or bad. So I did hit the snooze button, hair now in a ponytail, skipped breakfast-not enough time, crazy busy at work, starving by 10am.

No big deal at the end of the day.

But each time we are faced with a choice and it’s decision time, either a slight or ENORMOUS leap of faith is required-That this will somehow be the right one. 

            Yes, it’s so obnoxious and easy to look back and calculate all of the bad moves we’ve made over the course of the day, the year, a lifetime.  Nothing like a Monday Morning Quarterback—Hindsight is, in fact, 20/20 and damn-if I only knew then, what I know now!!!!! It’s called regret and this type of reflection can do no good.  Because, as we know, the time travel machine has yet to be invented: we don’t get the do-over. For whatever reason, this is the very time and very place we need to be in.  We must live in peace with our choices. 

            Thankfully, most things we decide upon have minimal impact but the bigger the decision, the larger the amount of faith in a higher order, faith in a higher power, belief in God is going to be required.  You say, “I make this choice today.  God, please let it be the right one.”

            Not too long after Johnny’s baseball question, he asked another “How do you know?” question.  While sharing one of my all time personal favorite movies, he asked, “How did Elliot (Ewiot as he says) know that he and ET would become friends?”  It’s another great question and even though I have seen the movie multiple times, I never thought to ask.  How does a 10-year-old boy know it’s ok to take a strange alien that he met in his shed into his home, his room, and make him his best friend?  Thinking about this question makes the story of their unique friendship even more beautiful.  Let’s face it-both ET and Elliot took an enormous risk and I have no idea how they knew.  Ok Ok –it’s a movie so of course it worked out (Thank God for that because I cried my eyes out at the end as if I didn’t know it would all work out!) But how did they know? Intuition maybe? Chemistry? Magic? Love?  Lots of abstract possible answers here.

            Sometimes that leap works out.  Sometimes, it doesn’t.  Sometimes, you make a careful, calculated, decision and it’s still a disaster.  Sometimes, you decide in a tenth of a second-this is a perfect pitch and you hit a homerun. 

            So in this game of life, with its endless series of decisions, we will use our eyes, our minds, our intuition, our magic, our love and our FAITH to help us make the right ones.

Yogi Bera, in all his slightly off but yet completely on “Yogi-isms”, once said, “We made too many wrong mistakes.”  It’s a brilliant statement.  Because there is no getting around making mistakes, swinging at bad pitches, striking out, getting your heart broken.  Mistakes will be made.  But there are good mistakes too.  Our best hope is that at the end—your wrong mistakes were far less than your right ones. 

And it is important to remember that these mistakes and bad choices leave us great gifts, lessons, maybe, or a new path, one that leads us to a different road, a better one.

So how will you know?  You won’t.

 “Life begins outside your comfort zone” (Carla P.)

Go get em’  

And don’t forget to pray!

Birthday Wisdom-Safety, Chaos and Somewhere in Between

I am turning 42 on Monday April 9, 2012.  They say you trade your youthful looks for wisdom.  I can say I am definitely losing my youth, but right now the trade off seems worth it.  A few months ago, on Girls Night Out, the conversation centered on what age would you most want to be.  34 seemed to be the consensus.  (Not for me, I was preggo at the time.)  Then, I, who clearly didn’t understand the question, asked for clarification.  “When we go back to this ideal age, can we change our lives? Make different choices?”  Waa Waa was the response.  I buzz killed the question.  This was strictly about looks not about life. So for me, even in hypothetical land, I still choose to be this age.  The wisdom is worth the extra wrinkle (or two). 

My newest great observation with my enhanced wisdom from another year of living is this: life always seems to be in one of two perceived states—Chaos or Safety. Much like the game of Hide and Seek Tag.  You hide with a great uncertainty; unsure if you’ve chosen a safe spot, uncertain if you can successfully make it to homebase, afraid that you may not be fast enough or smart enough to outrun and outsmart whoever is so unfortunate to be the finder and chaser.  This of course, is Chaos—Questions and Unknowns.  “Ready or not, Here I come.”  That’s your cue.  You run quickly and arrive at homebase and wait.  Safety. Answers. Security.

A simple example—ask any college bound 17 year old about “next year”.  Clearly Chaos—“I am still not sure, I have narrowed it down to 2 but………….”  Questions abound.  Most unspoken.  What will college be like?  What will my roommates be like?  Will I make good, lifetime friends?  Will schoolwork be hard?  Will I make it?  You can hear it in the parent’s voices as well.  So many unknowns.  It’s scary…… but also exciting. 

Then before you know it, that kid is a junior and in the perceived Safeland.  But you know what’s coming!   Chaos is certainly about to erupt.  Job? Relationships? Home? Independent living?

Hike and Seek though is a game: it is concrete.  Unfortunately, the locations of safety and chaos are not so clear in the real world.  Afterall, college kid still experiences life and during freshman, sophomore and junior year, there will still be lots of highs and lows, and opportunities taken and missed, tests failed and passed.

I love the great social experiment of Facebook.  I am a people-watching voyeur for sure. Sometimes, I look around on a complete strangers page out of sheer curiosity. It seems that the majority of people choose to portray their lives in Safety.  A few love to share their Chaos continually (you know who they are)  I love it though.  Some will move between the two states openly for all of us to witness.  It’s all just a perception of course.  None of it’s true.  These places of safety and chaos don’t exist.  You just move between the two; that’s the place.

Whether you think you are in Safety or Chaos, life is really in constant flux. It is always changing.  Always.  Like the ocean.  The tides keep coming; the waves rise and fall.  Even when there is a clear calm in the waters, currents are swirling, and dancing, and mixing everything up somewhere in the bottom. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Turning 30 vs. Turning 40

I remember the milestone of turning 30.  I guess it could be considered a time of chaos.  So many many questions.  Who would I marry?  Would I have children? What will they be like?  What will motherhood be like?  What will my home be like?  What about my everyday life—what will it look like?   At the time, I didn’t know any of these answers.  I got engaged a few months later and bought a house.  The kids came within the next 4 years.  My new Safe life was well underway. 

I cried for three straight days when I turned 40.  I suppose there were many reasons why but at the time, it was unexplainable.  I remember a colleague saying happy birthday to me in the hallway at school.  I burst into tears.  “You look great for 40,” she said to try to console me. That wasn’t the point of course.  And life was pretty good.  Husband, kids, home, career—all good, really good.  But still I cried.  Even in Safeland.

Safety isn’t a forever place especially because it isn’t a real place at all.  People who suffer from unexpected loss certainly know this.  You lose a parent, a spouse, a home, a job.  Your life is upside down.  But these major life events don’t even need to happen.  It can change in subtle ways too.  The foundation can always crack. 

“The only constant in life is change” 

“Change ain’t lookin’ for friends.” 

Two simple but good ones—can’t remember where I have read either.

My year is going to move towards a clear Chaos soon enough.  I feel sadness, fear, regret but also possibility and excitement.  I will remember that no matter what happens, I will be ok. 

I know the cycle of life by now: that it is saying hello and saying goodbye and saying hello again.  It will move from safety to chaos and back again.  It will continue to have high notes and low notes all along.  All of this is important to make the music of life beautiful.

It is better to have lived an opera--the ending is not always guaranteed to be a happy one but it’s a lot less corny and predictable than a Disney movie. Drama inspires.

Roseann Cetta Rappoccio on Facebook December 2009.

Happy Birthday to me and a toast to my “New Year”!  Cheers to gaining new wisdom, learning from Chaos and striving always for new Safety.

20 Life's Lessons from a 42 year old!

1) Buy the 64 pack of Crayola crayons, learn every shade of blue, then watch the summer sky turn every shade as night time falls.

2) Take a stand but always be open to listen to all sides.  Remember truth is really just a perception.

3) If you are running, do so with the wind behind you.  

4) Vote!

5) Stay away from Blue Jays as beautiful as they are.

6) Be kind.  Care.  Cry for others. Don't judge.

 7) Face the ocean at the beach-you don't need to turn your chair to face the sun.  Your suntan will still be golden and you won't have missed out on one of God's most beautiful creations.

 8) If you drop the ball, just PICK IT UP!!!

 9) Marvel at the moon in all its phases.

10)  Save your love letters.  Make a copy of the ones you have given. 

 11) Try to learn something new and get humbled by the experience.  In fact, be humble.

 12) Love and be loved

13) Smile....... a lot. It is good food for your soul.  So is ice-cream.  Plus you have to smile while you are eating it.

14) Notice that falling snow makes a beautiful although very soft sound.

15) There will always be someone better looking, smarter and richer.  Offer something else.

16) Learn how to communicate-tell people you love them often, share your ideas always, tell stories, share your needs and wants. Don’t play games. Contribute to other’s lives and allow them to contribute to yours.

17) Life is funny and ironic and wonderful.  It is also sad and cruel and sometimes terribly unfair.  Endure.  It all just cycles.

18) It is better to have lived an opera--the ending is not always guaranteed to be a happy one but it’s a lot less corny and predictable than a Disney movie. Drama inspires.

19) Don’t allow fear to be a part of your choices in life.  Live fully and fearlessly. Decide who and what you want to be and don’t let anything stop you. You will recover from your setbacks stronger than before and wiser too.  It’s all good for you.

20) Write a list of what you’ve learned.

Shades of Blue-this color is called cerulean.

Goodnight Goodnight Moon

December 7, 2011

       Good Night Moon was written in 1947.  It’s beauty and appeal for children must be the colorful pictures that darken as the story goes on, the cadence of the words, and the simplicity of the message.  Of course there was a time in my life when I thought it would be impossible to endure yet another reading of this classic children's book.

             And so it went….. “In the great green room, there was a telephone and a red balloon.” Our copy was made of the thick cardboard: required book material for babies who like to eat books and toddlers who like to tear bindings and pages.

Giana chose this book nightly during her toddler years “And a picture of a cow jumping over the moon.”  We added to the story by saying good night to everything in the house, everything outside, and all the people we knew.  It went on and on. She would sit on my lap on the rocker and we would "read" together.  She would turn the pages while I read softly aloud (there was a goal here-to get her to sleep.  Oh yes and to instill a love of reading.) “And there were three little bears sitting on chairs.” At one point, I believe it was possible we read it 267 consecutive nights.  I knew every word by heart.  Ahhhh yes, by heart.

And then one day, it went away.  There must have been a “last time” reading but I cannot recall.  Was it a gradual weaning or did we quit cold turkey?  What I know is that, without ceremony, one night we said "Good Night" to Good Night Moon.

The next stage of reading, of course, was better than the first. I insisted that her Big Girl Bed be full sized.  How else would we be able to read together and fit comfortably?  This was my logical explanation for needing the BIG bed.  And so night after night, Daddy or Mommy (baby brother was here by now) would read stories as our little (not so little--big girl) listened and loved.

We read books with repetitive and predictable phrases, and rhymes and rhythms and beautifully illustrated artwork.  Next came the stories with adorable, funny plots, interesting settings and lovable characters.  We met the man with his Caps for Sale, Henry, Mudge, Max, Big Anthony, Strega Nona, Stella Luna and so so so many more.  Variety was the name of the game.  Even though there were clear favorites and repeats, the nightly routine was greatly improved. 

        Then my baby girl was not a baby anymore.  She was able to read simple books on her own. The next stage was the simple chapter books.  And so the journey continued.  Recently, we have been reading together in a more hybrid style.  She reads a page and then I read a page.

Suddenly, two night’s ago, she was the only one doing the reading....... silently...... and there I was, lying next to her staring at the ceiling.  

So last night, I grabbed my own book, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, laid down next to her and read silently while she read her own book silently, The Chronicles of Narnia.  

"That's a movie,” I interrupted her.  

"Yes" she whispered back, and "your book is going to be a movie soon too."  

We went back to reading. The only sound in the room was of my daughter and I turning pages.  I smiled and was pleased I did not miss this moment. 

Our definition of reading together has changed.  It was probably not the last time she will read out loud to me nor the last time I will read to her, but clearly we are moving in a new direction; heading to the next stages of life- the one where we are not so completely connected, not so intertwined, not always on the same “page”.   In fact, her pages now are starting to belong to only her.  That night felt symbolic. While we lay there next to each other, it was clear: we will move towards a parallel existence at some point, and we will have our own books and live our own stories. Hopefully we will continue to share, but this time, as two grown, adult women (much like my own mother and myself today).  I know I have many more years until that moment becomes real but I see signs of it everywhere.             

So tonight I declare a ceremony, a graduation of sorts.  The closure I never made.  To reflect on the end of an era, to celebrate the achievement of a goal, and to look beyond to the next stage.  Here is my speech;  Good Night Good Night Moon and the red balloon.  Good Night stars, Good night air.  Good night noises everywhere.  Time to go to bed.  You have done your job well.  The sun's rising will signal another day and another chapter (another book perhaps).  And so we welcome it.

Good Morning Sun.