Ramblings of an Old, Romantic Soul

It's funny how we hear/read/see things exactly when we are meant to do so. This morning I wrote in my journal 'my life is so unexciting. so mundane.'  I then picked up a book called "Life is Messy", by Matthew Kelly - a small, easy to read book that I picked up from the back of church. I opened and read the following: "Cherish the Ordinary  It was the ordinary things that saved me. I have experienced enough extraordinary to know that I would choose the ordinary over the extraordinary all day long. Learn to cherish the ordinary. Make a list of twenty ordinary things that bring you joy when you experience them consciously. Here's my list: breathing. sleeping. waking. water. nature. food. reading. thinking. conversation. music. ar. seasons. friendship. children. kindness. chocolate. laughter. hugs. holding hands. home.  Allow the ordinary to heal you." Wow. Not the extraordinary! The ordinary! The simple things that are a part of my daily life. The ordi...

Yesterday, the 2nd, was six months. Six months that Mom has physically been gone from us. Odd thing, I was not aware of the date until a dear friend sent a text, saying she was thinking of me on this six month anniversary. When Dad died, I was so aware of each month, every 13th I mourned his loss. Not so with Mom. Why? Is it the fact that Dad was the first to go? I don't know. I miss Mom just as much. I think of her every day, and the 1st was a tough day.  Yes, when I got the text, I felt a bit guilty that I had not remembered. Did that mean I didn't love Mom? No. It simply means the grief process with Mom is very different than it was with Dad. And that's okay. As my sister, Sue, said 'This may not sound right but it's all good! She's with Dad and that's what she has always wanted.' True words.  Wise words. Time heals and life goes on. Feels like yesterday though, not six months. 

Tomorrow, Mom will have turned 92. I’ve been struggling with what to write, how to honor her memory. At the memorial mass, my eldest sister, Mary Jo, shared a beautiful reflection of her memories, of many things that most people didn’t know about Mom. So, with her permission, I decided now is a perfect opportunity to share with all of you. To Carmella - the myth, the legend! Happy birthday, Mom. You are loved, remembered, and missed every day ❣️ THIS IS A TRIBUTE TO A WOMAN OF STRENGTH, ENDURANCE, AND LOVE ~ MY MOM A wise man recently told me that “your personality is God-given, but your temperament is a learned behavior”.  On the surface, the two may not match and may contradict one another, which can be confusing to say the least to yourself and those you love. But with the help of the Great Physician, it doesn’t have to stay that way.   As I prayed and reflected on what I was going to say today I struggled through many emotions before finding the right words. Like many moth...

Reality: Mom is gone. Miss Marplestein is gone. Dulcinea is gone. We have three hearts grieving for our losses in different ways. But more on that in a bit.  We celebrated Mom's life with a beautiful mass on Friday, 8 October 2021, at St. Augustine's Church in Elkridge, MD. It was the last church Mom attended before the strokes, broken hip, and move to Florida. After the memorial, we had a luncheon provided by the church (with a small donation). The Helping Hands ministry did a marvelous job - handling the setup, the meal prep, and the clean up. Amazing.  Sunday, 10 October 2021, we laid Mom to rest with Dad. All my siblings were in attendance. A very simple gathering. A tough goodbye to our parents, with the sad realization that we are now orphans; and that this may have been the last time all seven of us are together. I will cherish the photos that were taken that day.  I spent three and half weeks in Maryland, visiting family, friends, and bonding even more with my sis...

 5 June 2005 - 28 September 2021  On August 1st, I wrote one of my saddest blogs ever - the death of our Dulcinea, Miss Marplestein's sister. "Death seems to be ever preset in our home these days." And he hasn't left.  Death chose to take our sweet, sweet Miss Marplestein yesterday, the 28th of September.  We noticed a change in her, but we thought it was grief for her "Noni", and her sister.  Perhaps she had a UTI. We certainly did not expect to hear that she was in the end stage of renal failure. And nothing much we could do. Sure, we could hospitalize her, they could poke and prod and give her needles; but none of that would cure her. It would only prolong the inevitable. We decided to keep her home. Just like Dulcinea, we wanted her to be where she was most comfortable, most loved and cherished.  Have I said Miss M was sweet?  Well, she was. Dulcinea was the diva and could be standoffish, but not Miss M. She loved people. She loved her brother, Hen...

  What does it mean when people say 'try to be strong'? Why? I am not weak because I cry, because I miss my Mom, my Dulcinea. I miss Mom's smile, her laugh, her hugs, her unconditional love, her presence. So many things I want to tell her - and yes, I've heard "she hears you". But right now that is not enough. In time it will be, but not now. And that's okay.  Every morning, every evening, I look for sweet Dulcinea - I listen for her meows, her pawsteps. I long to have her lay on my chest, gently kneading, and listen to her soothing purr. But she is gone.  Two souls, so long a part of my life, are no longer present.  I am numb. I am lost. I am no longer needed. Will I find my way again? Of course I will. A path will be made clear and I will sing and dance again. But not now, not yet.  Grief is strange. A very dear friend told me "there is no way through but through" - and that takes strength. It takes strength to confront the tears, the lonelines...

Dulcinea 5 June 2005 ~ 1 August 2021 Death seems to be ever present in our home these days. First Mom, now our beloved Dulcinea.   The look of death is the same, whether human or animal. And it isn't pretty. It matters not if they died peacefully, that empty look of death is the same - when you know the living soul that dwelt within is no longer present.  We had the gift of Dulcinea for 16 years.  We chose her (and her sister, Miss Marplestein) from a bunch of feral kittens at a farm. I held them in my arms, singing and bonding with them; telling them how precious they were.  When we brought them home, they were two small, frightened, sickly kittens. But we thought they were beautiful. In fact, Mom was the first person to meet 'our babies'. We were boasting and googling over them. So proud. Later Mom told us she thought they were the saddest looking creatures she had ever seen but didn't have the heart to tell us so. We were in love. And have been since that day...