This Christmas was spent alone. Our son's and families were in other parts of the country far away from our east coast home. Casey had recently taken a promotion at the television station in Tennessee,managed to spend a few days at Thanksgiving with us along with Cindy his wife. Neil ,Amy and our four grandchildren will be arriving sometime this week. After a recent promotion he too is spending more hours devoted to work. What choice did we have. I swallowed and accepted , only hoping that this was not the future. Holidays somehow are not the same with the absence of my children and grandchildren.
We somehow managed to get through Christmas, presents, dinner, annual Monopoly game... Chris had spent the morning searching the internet, had found a radio broadcast from his old Parrish in southern Indiana from Christmas1975. We were at that mass. A classmate of his deceased brother had a "Old Time Radio" site. Preserved were his recordings of midnight mass from so many years ago. A synopsis of the program listed "What Child Is This" sung by Paul his father's closest friend. Chris's dad passed away almost three decades ago. I only knew Don a few years, but he had many friends. Paul was a frequent visitor to there home. He always had Timmy his then teenage mentally challenged son in tow. He went everywhere with Paul. We listened that evening to his rich baritone voice, closing my eyes I could see Paul and Timmy. I wondered if his three daughters knew of this discovery. To be able to hear there father singing again. Tears welled in my eyes as the service continued. I pictured us once again at Saint Simon's. My husband grew up in that Parrish. He served many midnight masses. We had returned home that Christmas . Married less than two years with a young son, that Christmas one of the last spent with his father. Soon Bernadette Paul's oldest daughter sang a solo. As they introduced each song my husband was reminded a little more of his past. Choir members who's children he went to school with.
He was once again back at Saint Simon's on Christmas Eve. The hour went by quickly. We sat and reminisced about the families who had touched our life's, Paul and Fran his wife now in heaven. Timmy and his sisters. How many years we traveled home to his mother's at Christmas with our family. Going to midnight mass together, family gatherings. I felt not alone anymore but full of wonderful memories of people who have touched my life and made me a better person. Of all the friendships I have maintained through decades and people who I love and love me. Christmas is such a special time of year. I feel so blessed to hear that voice from the past, alive in my heart.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
Uncle Bud
I first met Bud 36 years ago. Christmas at my husbands family home in southern Indiana. He had a large family, many cousins, uncles and aunts. We were married in November of the same year, after knowing each other just a few months. At 19, feeling very intimidated, this would be a long weekend .
My husband's family tried hard to make me feel welcome. I was a stranger to them, looking back I understand what they were feeling. Having a difficult upbringing we were poor not my parent's fault, but we were unloved and abused. Life was a struggle, but somehow I was able to escape and now for the first time felt safe. I am sure my new family sensed this, though I had always tried so hard to let the past be just that.
I had never been surrounded by people who loved and laughed and enjoyed each other. Uneasy to say the least. Christmas gifts were piled high underneath the tree, homemade noodles, cakes, cookies, sock monkeys sewed by grandma in her eighties for all the kids. Festivite love. My mother-in-law and all her sisters were all graceful beauties, dressed to the nines, every hair seemed in place. I never had more than one pair of shoes at a time. One gift if we were lucky under the tree. Christmas was not a happy time growing up, I wondered what I did to make Jesus so angry at me.
Now my new family was everywhere, the house was full and noisy, and happy. I sat afraid to move, would I say something to embarras Chris or my new family. Uncle Bud was the only son amongst four girls. He looked just like my husband only older. Bud was in a wheelchair, car accident left him paralyzed a few years earlier. He pulled himself next to me '' don't let this bother you kid, they're nice once you get to know them". He continued to tell me about himself, he smoked like a chimney but I didn't care. He asked me about myself, how we were doing. His once red hair was gray, just like Chris's today. When he smiled he smiled with his whole face. Soon we were laughing and talking , forgetting my insecurities. I knew he had a hot temper, just like my husbands, but he was kind and gracious and made me feel ill at ease.
I would learn he once raced cars, was a truck driver, loved to fish and hunt. He was involved in the Teamster's Union, and after his accident, Jimmy Hoffa made sure he would be taken care of. Other family members soon made there way over by us. I did not feel alone or afraid the rest of the day.
Tomorrow we lay Uncle Bud to rest. He will be cremated . My family will gather to talk and eat and drink and remember. It has been many years since that first Christmas. I am no longer a timid 19 year old hiding in the corner. Many years have passed, through some difficult times we have stayed married and I love my husband more today then ever. I managed to obtain my nursing degree, raise three boys and have four beautiful grandchildren. Uncle Bud was right, I gave it a chance, they were more than nice. They taught me family values and love. They saved me Uncle Bud.
My husband's family tried hard to make me feel welcome. I was a stranger to them, looking back I understand what they were feeling. Having a difficult upbringing we were poor not my parent's fault, but we were unloved and abused. Life was a struggle, but somehow I was able to escape and now for the first time felt safe. I am sure my new family sensed this, though I had always tried so hard to let the past be just that.
I had never been surrounded by people who loved and laughed and enjoyed each other. Uneasy to say the least. Christmas gifts were piled high underneath the tree, homemade noodles, cakes, cookies, sock monkeys sewed by grandma in her eighties for all the kids. Festivite love. My mother-in-law and all her sisters were all graceful beauties, dressed to the nines, every hair seemed in place. I never had more than one pair of shoes at a time. One gift if we were lucky under the tree. Christmas was not a happy time growing up, I wondered what I did to make Jesus so angry at me.
Now my new family was everywhere, the house was full and noisy, and happy. I sat afraid to move, would I say something to embarras Chris or my new family. Uncle Bud was the only son amongst four girls. He looked just like my husband only older. Bud was in a wheelchair, car accident left him paralyzed a few years earlier. He pulled himself next to me '' don't let this bother you kid, they're nice once you get to know them". He continued to tell me about himself, he smoked like a chimney but I didn't care. He asked me about myself, how we were doing. His once red hair was gray, just like Chris's today. When he smiled he smiled with his whole face. Soon we were laughing and talking , forgetting my insecurities. I knew he had a hot temper, just like my husbands, but he was kind and gracious and made me feel ill at ease.
I would learn he once raced cars, was a truck driver, loved to fish and hunt. He was involved in the Teamster's Union, and after his accident, Jimmy Hoffa made sure he would be taken care of. Other family members soon made there way over by us. I did not feel alone or afraid the rest of the day.
Tomorrow we lay Uncle Bud to rest. He will be cremated . My family will gather to talk and eat and drink and remember. It has been many years since that first Christmas. I am no longer a timid 19 year old hiding in the corner. Many years have passed, through some difficult times we have stayed married and I love my husband more today then ever. I managed to obtain my nursing degree, raise three boys and have four beautiful grandchildren. Uncle Bud was right, I gave it a chance, they were more than nice. They taught me family values and love. They saved me Uncle Bud.
JACK
What was I thinking when Jack came home. We already had two very spoiled dogs, Augie and Hobbs a pair of miniature dachshunds. Barky and bossy describes these two, but we adored them and gave into there every whim.
I had lost my beloved dog Molson two years ago. Moey as we called him had survived multiple adoptions, being taken by my eldest son while at college. Living in an apartment with young males(thus the name Molson there favorite beverage) he was not formally trained in everyday "dog" living.
He came to stay with us when Neil's new apartment owner no pet policy was enforced.
After many encounters..no you can't eat at the table... off the table Moey..garbage is off limits..not on the bed Moey....he quickly became my dear friend. My husband always said Moey knew he hit the lottery when he came here. I loved him till he died in my arms at age 14. He is in my closet upstairs and as morbid as it sounds I want his ashes placed at my feet where he always slept, when I leave this earth.
So what brought me to think that this big black hairy Lab named Jack needed a home?? His picture on a local rescue site just haunted me. He was 17 months old with piercing brown eyes that reached out and sent an arrow through your heart. He had a good dog soul, could see it on the Internet. He had been through dog cell training. What is that I thought? Housebroke, trained in verbal and hand commands. Why did he need a home.
Filling out the application was somewhat like filling out adoption papers. References, home inspection, background check for a dog.What next fingerprints. Wasn't even sure I wanted to do this but after talking with my hubby we started the process, could always say no, we have two dogs already.,
I was absolutely taken aback when we were contacted on Thursday to meet in a neighboring city at 10am Saturday as Jack was on his way across three states..delivered with a group of 10 other rescue dogs to meet there new families.
We were unsure how this would work. I am somewhat of a compulsive clean person, so immediately replaced my 10 year old Dyson animal with a new Dyson , no dog hair please on my floors. We purchased a giant crate that took up half of the laundry room, dishes, bedding, food,collar, lead..gee he was getting expensive.What was I thinking. Hubby somewhat worried about the two little dogs, would Jack realize they are off limits and not chew toys. He really wanted a yellow Lab, Jack was coal black. My husband is such a dog person, I concluded over time, he would allow Jack a place in his heart.
So Jack came home one warm Saturday in Maryland . The drive home he just sat at attention, looking all around at cars passing. I wondered if he knew he was going home. The little dogs barked and nipped at him, Jack sat and didn't budge, just allowed there badgering. He walked into our home somewhat nervous, pacing back and forth. I hoped he would love us someday, and vice verse.
Almost to good, I thought. Doesn't bark, my little dogs bark at everything. Has not messed in the house , little dogs refuse to go outside especially in acid rain... a sore subject as they potty in hubby's garage... but Jack runs out in the rain and does his job. He is somewhat passive. Youngest dog Hobbs wakens him each morning nipping at his heels to show him out of his crate. Jack will stay there all night with the door open, never leaving until will tell him to.
Though Jack was fitting in, did he know this was his forever home ? Would he always be just a little distant or allow himself to become part of this family.
Yesterday he stayed in his crate most of the afternoon. When Chris came home from work, Jack did not come out to greet him. Unusual, he seemed fine as we coached him out, and we realized he had taken for the first time a rawhide bone into his cage. Jack has showed no interest until now in what the other two chew on daily. Then I realized, he knew this was his bone, in his den, his home. Jack figured it out, he knows. The little dogs yipped wanting the bone, he coveted that bone, his prize. Later that night he wandered into the family room, laying on the rug , soaking up the heat from the fire. I think I caught a smile in his eye. Like Moey, Jack knew, he hit the lottery. Animals teach us so much. Life is so uncertain, sometimes we just have to wait, after time we realize we have purpose, allow yourself the love we all deserve.
I had lost my beloved dog Molson two years ago. Moey as we called him had survived multiple adoptions, being taken by my eldest son while at college. Living in an apartment with young males(thus the name Molson there favorite beverage) he was not formally trained in everyday "dog" living.
He came to stay with us when Neil's new apartment owner no pet policy was enforced.
After many encounters..no you can't eat at the table... off the table Moey..garbage is off limits..not on the bed Moey....he quickly became my dear friend. My husband always said Moey knew he hit the lottery when he came here. I loved him till he died in my arms at age 14. He is in my closet upstairs and as morbid as it sounds I want his ashes placed at my feet where he always slept, when I leave this earth.
So what brought me to think that this big black hairy Lab named Jack needed a home?? His picture on a local rescue site just haunted me. He was 17 months old with piercing brown eyes that reached out and sent an arrow through your heart. He had a good dog soul, could see it on the Internet. He had been through dog cell training. What is that I thought? Housebroke, trained in verbal and hand commands. Why did he need a home.
Filling out the application was somewhat like filling out adoption papers. References, home inspection, background check for a dog.What next fingerprints. Wasn't even sure I wanted to do this but after talking with my hubby we started the process, could always say no, we have two dogs already.,
I was absolutely taken aback when we were contacted on Thursday to meet in a neighboring city at 10am Saturday as Jack was on his way across three states..delivered with a group of 10 other rescue dogs to meet there new families.
We were unsure how this would work. I am somewhat of a compulsive clean person, so immediately replaced my 10 year old Dyson animal with a new Dyson , no dog hair please on my floors. We purchased a giant crate that took up half of the laundry room, dishes, bedding, food,collar, lead..gee he was getting expensive.What was I thinking. Hubby somewhat worried about the two little dogs, would Jack realize they are off limits and not chew toys. He really wanted a yellow Lab, Jack was coal black. My husband is such a dog person, I concluded over time, he would allow Jack a place in his heart.
So Jack came home one warm Saturday in Maryland . The drive home he just sat at attention, looking all around at cars passing. I wondered if he knew he was going home. The little dogs barked and nipped at him, Jack sat and didn't budge, just allowed there badgering. He walked into our home somewhat nervous, pacing back and forth. I hoped he would love us someday, and vice verse.
Almost to good, I thought. Doesn't bark, my little dogs bark at everything. Has not messed in the house , little dogs refuse to go outside especially in acid rain... a sore subject as they potty in hubby's garage... but Jack runs out in the rain and does his job. He is somewhat passive. Youngest dog Hobbs wakens him each morning nipping at his heels to show him out of his crate. Jack will stay there all night with the door open, never leaving until will tell him to.
Though Jack was fitting in, did he know this was his forever home ? Would he always be just a little distant or allow himself to become part of this family.
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