2009: See Clearer

I looked back at the posts I made last year before the turn of the new year before I wrote today. I wanted to see how cyclical our thought patterns become right around 12/31 of every year. How we promise to ourselves to change everything that we don’t like, re-arrange the things we think could be better and overall, lay the path down for the new life we’d like to forge. And then… somehow, despite these very lofty and positive aspirations, by the December 31st, we end up cursing the year. Wishing it good riddance and looking forward to the next. I see a lot of people spitting upon 2008 on their way out as they usher in 2009 with their latest goals and hopes / resolutions. I was on the brink of doing the same. In all fairness… 2008… was a very bad year for me; emotionally – mentally – physically – spiritually. But what I realized when I really looked at it… I’ve been living one long continuous year since about 2000. One year rolled into the next, then into the next, then into the next… No real goals, no real plans… just trying to survive. Come out on the other end alive. And be thankful for that. I’ve treated the New Years as really just another day in that continuous span. Hoping that the goals I set long ago would achieve themselves without any further work or dedication from me outside of speaking wanting the goal. Praying that I’d wake up one day and realize that everything had changed for the better w/o any active participation from me. Thinking that smiling and keeping a happy outlook would ultimately make the sad parts of my world melt away.

After 8 years of this kind of thought process, I realize that 2009 has to be the end of this chapter of my life. I’m very tired of feeling that I’m living in a dream. I sat on the edge of my bed this morning, not quite completely convinced that I was all the way awake. I think often of the dream world that I phase in and out of and wonder if that version of me is getting anything accomplished either. I’ve tied myself up with a lot of busy work to feel that I’ve been productive. But actually – busy work is just that. I’ve looked busy. I’ve maintained a busy demeanor, but the real work I need to do ON ME, FOR ME, is piling up. 2009, I pray to tackle those items in force.

That dream that I had a few weeks ago really opened my eyes. It has been a very long time since I turned to myself and asked ME what I wanted. Thought about me first and did what made me happy despite what others would think and feel. So much so, that I’m not even IN TOUCH with what I really want anymore. By the end of 2009, I want to be able to say that I did at least 4 things that were truly on MY OWN LIFE’S agenda. Independent of anyone else’s timetable. Free of anyone else’s expectations of me or judgment from the masses. As of this year, there’s no one left that I’m living my life for (to say – that I’m not looking to impress or make anyone else proud – the people who birthed me did all they could and have moved on. Although they’re watching me from above, I doubt that it’s often and I hope that this “Better Place” that I’ve had to relegate them to in my mind would capt their attention more than the going-ons down here). That being said – I don’t care what anyone else thinks anymore. This is MY life and I have to do for me. I see what living your life completely for someone else can do (case in point: my mom). It withers you away. You cry at night all the time. You attempt to numb endlessly so that you don’t feel the erosion of your dreams.

THE ONLY PERSON IN EXISTENCE WHO HAS YOUR BEST INTERESTS IN MIND FIRST? IS LOOKING AT YOU IN THE MIRROR.

2009 will be about getting in touch with her, finding out what her plans are and what she’s lacking and fill those needs. By any means necessary. Period.

My new vision is on the way.

Fare thee well, 2008.

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Baci

“Remember that Baci is Italian for ‘kisses’!”
Perugina Chocolates

I have a recurring wonderful Christmas memory. I searched my blog for some mention of it and was AMAZED I’d never written it down. So, I decided, the next few days will be pretty hectic for me. I might as well do it today so that it can be documented once and for all.

One Christmas, I gotta say I had to be about 13 or 14, it was one of THOSE Christmases. Not a whole lot of gifts under the tree. Not a whole lotta cheer cause Grammy moved away to Florida so she was so far when we were wanting her near. It didn’t snow… you know… the whole… Dry-kinda-Christmas feeling. Except for one thing. Mommy had off on Christmas day. My mom was a nurses aide at Physician’s Hospital in Jackson Heights and any of you who have family members in the medical profession understand that there are UNDERSTANDABLY? no days off. Not real ones. You could schedule just so… but you can’t close the hospital down and expect the patients to care for themselves. So someone always has to be there. It was a rhythm… if she had off on Christmas one year she’d work New Years that year, but have to work on Christmas the next year but have New Year’s off – you get the idea. So we knew it was going to be great because she’d get to be with us all day. And for me and my brother… that was pure Christmas ANY DAY mommy had off. Life was just better with mom around. Happier. Quieter. Wonderful. So to have her there on Christmas DAY? was like four Christmases rolled up in one. Despite the lack of presents.

At about 13 / 14 you still are quite excited about Christmas (at least, I was). I was in the Handbell choir at school as well as the Adult Chorale so we had midnight mass the day before and the spirit was alive with me. It wasn’t about Santa so much… it was about a rejoicing. A rejuvenation of your soul. A closeness to God that you were able to proclaim audibly and not be judged if you did it… say…. July 20th. I just loved the whole essence of it. So I woke up relatively early. However, the rest of the family was just happy to be asleep. So I put my robe and slippers on… kissed my mom on the cheek as I passed her bedroom and sat in the living room. The Christmas lights were ablaze from the night before (Christmas Eve was the only night we left them on over night) so I sat and stared at the blinking lights and the shrubbery of our Christmas tree. We put Baby Jesus in his manger when we got home from mas so there he was… arms outstretched, looking quite aware for an infant and Mary, hands clasped over her heart, gazing down at him in amazement. I was taking in the whole thing and feeling very much at peace when I heard my mom’s footsteps shuffling in from the back room. She stopped in the kitchen to make coffee first and then brought out 2 cups. She came into the living room and set the cups down, put her hand on my neck and shoulder and said, “Merry Christmas, Vic.” I gleefully responded, “Merry Christmas, mama!” She went behind the tree and pulled out a gift bag – average sized gift bag and set it on the table in front of us and then sat on the love seat. “I got this at the grab bag at work yesterday, I thought you might like it.” So I tore into it thinking it was a gift for me. But it was a rather large box of Perugina Baci Chocolates. So I looked at my mom like… umm… chocolate in the AM? Can that be? And she gazed back at me and winked as if to say, “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

We opened the box and started each with one piece of chocolate. Wrapped in silver and blue adornment, when you unraveled it, a small piece of wax paper separated the foil from the chocolate and they had writing on them. Each little wax piece had a pretty expression of love written in 4 languages: English, French, Dutch and Italian. And then there was that sumptuous chocolate candy – sorta looked like a nipple, but I bypassed that because it was just glorious hazelnut draped in dark chocolate goodness. We savored the first piece… eyes closed and everything. When in the afterglow of our first piece, my mom picked up her wax paper and read aloud her love saying to me in french. I giggled and said that was pretty. And I picked up mine and read it to her in Spanish. And this process repeated all morning long while the men of the house slept. We reveled in our chocolate delight and adorned one another’s hearts with love sayings in many tongues. I never felt so close to my mom as another human being before. In between chocolates, we talked, she shared stories of her child hood with me. And I admired her more and more with every sentence and hung off of every word.

Eventually the boys woke up and ruined everything with their… boy-ness. LOL. But my mom hugged me closed and kissed my forehead. That was the sweetest love expression right then.

I kept the box full of wax papers for years, just to remind myself of how much I loved that day and love my mom. I don’t know where it is now. I sure wish I did. That was the BEST CHRISTMAS EVER.

I love you mommy. Te amo, mami. Je t’aime, ma mere. Ti amo, madre.

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Mommy? You made a GREAT choice

We sometimes don’t give it too much thought. I wouldn’t know initimately… but… when you look at your child and then look around for it’s “God Parents” (if that’s what your religion details). The person who is supposed to help in the child’s spiritual development. And in the off chance that you may pass, would be the care taker for the child.

Who knew the need would extend beyond being a “child”? I find myself in desperate need of a parent these days. Always reaching for the phone. Always having to remind myself that there’s no one at the end of that particular number and having to straighten myself up and fly right. Be a grown up. Be a WOMAN and stand on my own.

When all I want to do is collapse into a little ball of tears and just sob. I look at the picture of us that we posted when I gave tribute to my mom and see the bandage on my knee… and KNOW that at some point… she kissed it and made it all better. And I just didn’t feel like I had anyone to make me feel that way anymore. All boo-boos were up to me going forward.

I had a REALLY bad day, medically, yesterday. And I cowered in my husband’s arms, but it wasn’t the same. He’s there to protect me… but it’s very different. That’s a lateral protection. A mother’s protection comes from above. Almost in the same direction that divine protection comes from. So my Nininne (here’s the history on that nickname – in French, your Godmother is called “marraine” – the last syllable sounding “ren” you could see how a baby might say neh-nenne in stead of mah-renne) called me and did nothing short of kiss my boo boo over the phone. Even promised that she’d be here soon (which she will be in a week) and told me that everything would be alright.

I cried a little, because I’ve been trying so hard to be strong… when she was there… hand picked by my mom… for me to lean on.

Thank GOD for my Nininne.

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Sometimes… it takes nothing at all…

Saw this on tv yesterday:

and. completely. lost. it.

*sigh*

Go call your parents if you can

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