END OF LIFE DECISIONS

You go through your whole life taking for granted the things that seem to occur everyday: your health, your family, maybe your job. Friends come and go and so do enemies. You go through the days one by one and say such things as: I can’t wait to be a teenager, or I can[t wait for Friday or the next vacation.

Then one day something happens and you realize it is getting late! You need more time, more time to live, to take in the experience of life more slowly. A friend dies, maybe a child moves away, or a parent falls and needs help.

Mom is 94 years old. I visit her everyday and see how she is progressing. We all are hoping for her to leave the nursing home and go home to her own world once again. But we realize her world is now shattered, not the same anymore. Since Mom fell, her children are taking over slowly a little at a time.  It is killing her that if she goes home, she will need some assistance at night, she is very fragile and needs help. Her mind is sharp and responds with the same expressions both physically and verbally.

The hard part of being her child now is telling her she can’t do what she would like to do, that because of her physical limitations, her children are creating rules for her for her own good. My sister Joanne took on the task of telling her she needed to pre-plan her own funeral, and why. I started the process days ago and she was upset with the thought, but said that when she got home she would consider it. It was her way of saying: get lost.

So I went to the funeral parlor and spoke to one of the directors. A very young man with many years ahead of him, who worked with what we wanted to do, my sister Joanne and I. I was a tough job but we did it. We had to go back to the nursing home and tell mom how much it costs and what we did.

Mom was sitting up in a wheel chair, eating lunch that Henry, her boy toy brought her, and as she was biting into his grilled cheese sandwich, I laid the price down on her. Her eyes squinted and a face I never saw before was made. To relive the tension, I mentioned the juggling act she was also providing along with a some clowns that will climb out of a very small car. She started to smile, and didn’t say anything. I found there are tow ways to break news to Mom: one is to tell her straight out and stand back, or with humor. Humor works best, standing back doesn’t always work best because she does have a good reach with a wooden spoon.

And so a very distasteful job is complete, she didn’t ask for the details and I won’t offer unless she does. I have ‘Power of Attorney’ but make her sign the check to the ‘Pre Plan’ as they now call it in the state of New York.

So soon Medicaid will rear its ugly head and we want to be above board, transparent and honest, we will do what we need to do for her sake, and her sake only. All her money will be spent on her, in her final years no matter how long that is.

My sisters all agree with that, so I am proud of them for doing so.

MAKE ROOM IN THE AISLE

She got even better with age!

Friday mornings on the LIRR back in the 70’s were happy mornings. People were more lively and friendly, and looking forward to the ride home that night to launch their weekend. Unlike Monday mornings, where the faces are as long as the ties worn, joy abounded.

Somewhat sleepy from the night before, I was also nervous. Having seen the engagement ring, the look on TLW (The Little Woman) and the idea of having to hold it until a month later for Valentine’s Day to announce our engagement, life was becoming complicated and uncertain, and TLW was about to board the train. I had a plan in place as she came aboard.

Greeting her that morning, her nose red from the cold and looking sleepy, she took off her coat on the overheated car and sat down. Wearing a maroon suit, she was unsuspecting as to what was coming next.

Without saying a word, I reached into my inside pocket of my three-piece suit and gave her the ring. There was shock on her face and suddenly it lit up.

“I thought you were going to wait until Valentine’s Day!?” she said.

“Nah, why wait?”

Suddenly she whipped the ring on and jumped up to show everyone on the train the ring, parading down the aisle as she stuck out her hand and showed it off.

Coming in for a landing she says:

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to do this, I would have dressed better!”

And so I have been second-guessed ever since, amen. End of story. End of me.

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF DELBLOGGOLO…

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Many years ago.

It was today, January 14^th, 1971 and a big evening was planned. TLW (The Little Woman) and I had made a prior announcement that we were getting married, and so were planning to go to the diamond district in Manhattan to pick up her engagement ring, where we had gone previously to select the combination of diamond and wedding bands. It was a special day for TLW since she was taking a misguided gamble on commitment to me. I on the other hand was informed to not waste a breath, or movement, or a moment’s time in marrying her, since she was such a great catch. My father-in-law had an Irish accent, but I understood.

The plan was simple, get the ring and on Valentine’s Day, we would make it official, ring and all.

I met TLW at her building on 42^nd Street the Mobil Oil building after work, where we would walk over to the Diamond District. Since both of us worked in Manhattan, her executive’s secretary and me a designer we knew the city. Having an in at the jewelry center for diamonds, she had picked out what she wanted and I paid for it. Tonight we would pick up the ring and I would take it home until February 14^th.

She wanted a pear-shaped diamond on white gold, and the stone stood up proudly on the white gold band when I saw it for the first time. A nice size stone about the size of the hole in my pocket, but who was complaining, I was getting a wonderful gal. Her dad had a way of saying things!

Getting to the jewelry store where the diamond ring was made, she excitedly tried it on and it fit! She waved it around and after a few moments of happiness, we placed it in the box and I put it in my breast pocket until February. As I did so, sadness came over her eyes as if she was losing an old friend. I felt bad and thought I should really give it to her immediately, but I got the better of my emotions.

Off we went to Penn Station and the Riverside Restaurant, where they served the largest platter of ribs you could imagine! The place was packed and the din was continuous, but I was in love, those ribs were BIG!

That evening I kissed her goodnight and went home, parking the car in my parent’s driveway, I checked my breast pocket for the umpteenth time to make sure the ring was still there. Locking the car door, I made a decision.

TOMORROW: MAKE ROOM IN THE AISLE!

RUNS IN THE FAMILY

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It seems that we have all been on TV, the DelBloggolo family that is. After Wednesday night’s People’s Choice Awards, it got me thinking how we all seemed to make the “tele” as the Brits say.

#2 Son, Michael

Many years ago, #2 Son was captured on the screen by channel 12, at a 4^th of July parade, standing in the street waving a miniature flag! He was maybe 2 years of age and he had a sailor’s suit and hat on, standing along the main street of Patchogue. 

The lovely and beautiful TLW.

Then there was the day the TLW (The Little Woman) was interviewed by Channel 12 News about Memorial Day, as we visited the Viet Nam War Veterans Memorial and she gave her recollection of vets in her family.

Then there is yours truly. On 3 different occasions, once on 20/20 and John Stossel’s segment, where they came into my office, viewed me working, once on Pat O’Brien’s HOW THEY DO THAT, where I was designing a brochure and once on the Joan London show, all so many years ago that I forgot why!

Where he goes, she goes.

But none of that compares to seeing #1 Son and his cohorts winning a prestigious award! The kid is dynamite and I AM SO PROUD!

WOW!!!

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My son the writer did it again!

He used to make the National Junior Honor Society, the National Honor Society, graduated from UNC and went to work for TV, then to make things even better, married a wonderful girl! Although he was successful academically and socially, he was not a nerd, used to walk around with a baseball glove in his hand, and a smile on his face. He could trace every college in the March Madness charts, knew all his baseball, football and basketball players and probably still does.

As a little kid, he used to go to work with me into the city, and later in life at my job at PCH, where he then got one himself and I got to be Joe Del Bloggolo, Senior Art Director/Art Supervisor before he came to Anthony’s Dad after he impressed everyone including me!

The People’s Choice Awards were on a few night’s ago, and I had to write this blogue after because I am beside myself with pride. I want to write something that will be understood, that is cogent and to the point, and still I can’t!

I know this: my strategy worked while raising him, I used to tell him as his father, his parental guardian, the man that led the little blond kid to decisions based on a single mantra: “Go ask your mother.” It really paid off!

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PnTGW-7WdwU

So please bare with me, all you who know him will agree, he’s a simple guy with a great appreciation of his fellow writers who make up this incredible staff of award winning writers, and he often reminds us of that fact. I’d want that attitude on my team too.

After The Big Bang Theory won the People’ Choice Award, I went to bed and I thought back about 5 years ago when there was a writer’s strike, and he was having self doubts about himself. Somehow he felt the loss of what he loves to do, write, and I stayed with him until he found himself, and got back to who he really is, a good kid and a great son.

Congratulations, Kid, your mother, brother and I are very proud, and yes we know there were other great writers and actors that contributed to the show, but they are all special talents, and you walk with them.

Love, Dad

Touch a palm tree for me.

MOM! GO TO YOUR ROOM!

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It is really getting bad. Mom is behaving like I should, and who needs that? The other day I enter her room at the nursing home, and she is not there, but her boy toy is, and he is presiding over her lunch tray that was just deposited on her table.

“Hey Henry, how’s it going?”

“Oh, hi Joseph (very formal relationship)

“Mom still in therapy?”

“Yes, should be back any minute.”

Suddenly she arrives, being wheeled in by a therapist who promised to come back after lunch for more therapy for mom.

“Olympia, your lunch is here. But I brought you some soup from home, and I got you brownie COOKIES, they’re soft to chew on!”

“OOOH! Let me have the soup first.”

Now there is chicken soup on her tray from the kitchen, a chicken salad sandwich and a nice fat piece of ginger cake with a little salad and a cup of tea.

Henry pulls out the soup and opens up the thermos handing it to her with a spoon. Mom happily digs in and makes a face.

“What kind of soup is this Henry?”

It looks like paste and is going down like it is too thick to handle.

“Oh that is clam chowder Olympia, I pureed it first. Makes it easier to handle: no chunks”

She finishes up the soup and says” “OK get me those cookies.”

“Ma! You didn’t eat your sandwich!”

“I’m not eating that!”

“Now Ma, you have to eat lunch!”

“Not that!”

“Ma, if that was me doing what you are doing you would be yelling at me and getting out your wooden spoon!”

She gives me a Cheshire cat grin and reaches into the bag of cookies, bites down into it, her eyes rolling about the ceiling like she is going to give me an estimate for a paint job.

Henry leaves leaving just the two of us. The nurse comes by and takes her tray away.

“Oh, Olympia, you didn’t eat, aren’t you hungry?

“Not really. Henry brought me something.”

Nurse, she is a bad girl, she doesn’t eat her meals, just the desserts!”

“All I know is that when she wakes up in the morning, some gentleman is standing at the foot of the bed, a roll and coffee waiting for her when she opens her eyes!

This woman I call Mom has got to be stopped! All the stuff about eating healthy isn’t ringing true in practice. I could have very easily eaten just desserts but always had mom’s face in the way.

If she weren’t already in her room, I would have said: “GO TO YOUR ROOM AND THINK ABOUT IT!”

SISTA-TANJ-GERINA

I had lunch with a few old high school classmates the other day. It seems we are all going to Washington D.C. in April and we are also looking to have a 50^th high school reunion soon.

What shocked me was that it was 50 years ago in March that we had a devastation of a school fire that thank God everyone survived!

As I sat down next to the good sister: Sista Tanj-Gerina, a white envelope was handed to me without a word. This is how nuns work, they don’t say anything, especially if you are bad and will be dealt with later. 

The good sista at a party for My Cousin Vinny

I open the envelope and find baby pictures!

I wonder who these kids are, and start to over-think this. Looking at Sista Tanj-Gerina, who is deep in conversation with someone else, I surmise that there is an underlining message here. Then it strikes me!

“Carol-if you think you are getting any child-support from me, I want a blood test first!”

I get a sharp right hand to the shoulder.

“Madonna Joe! Those are my nieces and nephews!”

“Oh!”

CHANGING COURSE

It is funny how life can change course on one. Going from the child to the parent or guardian! Going everyday to the nursing home where mom temporarily resides, new revelations become apparent at every visit.

My sisters and I worry about her, and my older sister (much older) Tessie and I visit her everyday, doing what we can, either advocating with the staff and correcting something, or just getting her a cup of water, we do our duty. It requires a few hours at least every time.

It is kind of hard for me to leave her there everyday in the nursing facility. I hope it is temporary, but I’m not fooling myself into thinking it really is. In the back of my mind sits another scenario that is not agreeable. Coupled with the fact that she is fiercely independent, and that she is telling us without any dressing that she wants to go home. You see, her mind is sharp, she has a great memory and can reall things that happened 60 years ago in the minutest details.

At 94, you don’t want to upset the lady, nor put any unnecessary duress on her. Yet for a whole week since she fell, causing her to be where she is, she has worn a rather long face, one that feeds the guilt that both Tess and me harbor. The doctor, her GP was the one who made her go to the nursing home before my sister and I spent a whole day finding the best suitable place for her to recover.

Mom, me and Tessie and Mom's Aunt Jenny

 To me, it seems unfair that people that have lived so long, surviving cancer, a poor childhood, being placed in a boarding school because her mother was too ill to care for her and her two sisters, the Great Depression, World War II and her having a rotten son, that they should have any issues in their old age other than whether or not to wear a sweater for the day.

My sisters and I are lucky to have mom so long, she is a fixture in our minds, someone we looked up to and yet we are treating her like a child by protecting her from some of the daily events of her life while she stays in the nursing home.

I decided to take her for a stroll in a wheel chair and explore the facility a little, hoping to lift her spirits in a round about way. I felt that if she sees the people that are permanently residing in the facility. How sick or incapable of caring for themselves, she might feel better about her own situations.

“Theresa, Joseph, I want to go home, be in my own house when this is over!” This admonition came from out of the blue, as she sat in her wheel chair in her room. “I don’t want to go to an assisted living place, I want my own home.” This declaration meant she was doing a little too much thinking, and she was very angry and depressed. We assured her that that would not be the case if we could help it. I spoke up:

“Ma, remember how the nurse came and gave you that little pill to ease your back pain?” Looking at me she seemed to say: “Yeah, what’s your point dummy?”

“Well Ma, you should look at this place as a big pill, one that if you cooperate and get better, will help you get home! You should embrace the fact that you have this place to help you. When you fell, you were not in condition to stay at home alone! If I were you I’d be thankful I have it. The staff is nice, we come everyday and worry about you, embrace all you do have, not what you don’t!”

The words were echoing in my ears: as the room seemed so silent, as even I listened to what I said after I said them. Suddenly I felt this sudden feeling in my chest, I spoken to my mother like a parent, I was overstepping my bounds! Feeling self-conscious I wanted to hide my face and be ashamed, but another part of me was saying: “Where the hell did you get that?”

My sister and I then began a joint lecture, and it seemed to get through to mom, as she looked somewhat sheepish and apologized. That made it worst, she should have just said: “OK” and I would have moved on. Instead I saw the face that raised me, taught me to help others and to do the very thing I just told her to do, and suddenly I felt very alone and old. Life was doing a complete change of course!

UNMOVEABLE MOM

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We all sat at the round table in the atrium. Mom, Tessie my older sister (much older) my brother-in-law Tom, my sister Fran and me at the nursing home where Mom is trying to mend.

Enjoying the get-together since Fran and Tom are from Connecticut, we joked and laughed when the dietician delivered a lunch tray to Mom.

“Well Mom, lunch is here! Looks good, no?”

“No!”

Mystery meat?

The lunch was a simple sandwich of mystery meat and motor oil (10W 30) on white sliced bread and some string beans with a soup, chocolate pudding pie, tea and milk.

“But Ma, you have a nice sandwich here!”

Shaking her head no, she says: “I don’t want it. What kind of soup is that?”

“Looks like a vegetable soup! Ma, do you like the food here?”

“No! I want to go home in my own house. I can’t wait to get out of here.”

“Now Ma, let me try just a corner of the sandwich, maybe I can figure out what it is.”

I cut and discover it is meatloaf in the consistency of a dark chocolate bar.

“Hmmmm, good!”

Mom looks at me like I’m crazy.

“Ma, you ought to try it, it’s good, but the next time have them remove the crust!”

“NO!”

I cut another piece and Fran says: “Look Ma, it must be good, he cut another piece!”

Sometimes you have to lie when raising a parent.

“Sure he did, he eats anything if it’s free!”

Well that is not true, there are some things I would pass on, but I do like to live on the edge sometimes. This was definitely one of them, and I may add very edgy.

I cut another piece and remark: “Gee Ma, you don’t know what you’re missing!” (May God forgive me for lying to my mother.)

I eat the last piece of sandwich and now I am getting the business from everyone at the table, when a resident sits at another table and puts down a tray of lunch, and goes over to the coffee machine..

“Hey Joe!” says my Polish brother-in-law: “I’ll keep him busy while you steal his lunch!”

THE NEW ME

The New Year requires a new me, so I decided to go off to the barbershop and get a haircut. There are two things I hate to do and they are: dentists and haircuts.

Entering the barbershop I see two new barbers, and the picture seems kind of odd. Cutting a man’s hair in one of the three barber chairs is a short round man and a woman who is sweeping the floor. Both are wearing black smocks!

“You give haircuts here?” I ask.

The New Prettier Me

The lady pausing: sweeps one hand toward the chairs and says: “Yes!”

The Old Me

The guy in the chair is smiling while looking at me, and the barber who also paused at the question points at one of the chairs and says: Yes! Yes! Come on in!” He finishes off the customer and points to the next empty chair where he will cut my hair. 

Sitting in the chair, he puts the cover over me and gets real close, eyeball-to-eyeball and asks: “Are you comfortable?” I respond: “I make a nice living.”

The lady, who I now suspect may be part of a husband and wife team stops sweeping the floor and sits down in the barber chair next to mine. I hear the snipping of the scissor in my ear, and an uncomfortable feeling that I am being watched. I sneak a peak into the large wall mirror and catch a glimpse of Mrs. Scissorhands staring intently at me! I try to not notice, but it IS killing me.

Chopping away with precision and confidence, Dr. Scissorhands continues, having difficulty maneuvering around my head because he is so short. I get this feeling that between the two of them I am in some kind of black comedy, even if it IS a haircut I’m getting.

Pointing to my beard he asks if I want him to trim it and then asks about my eyebrows and goes ahead and trims away, taking great care, going after single hairs on my head, and even in my ears. Actually, I shouldn’t let him cut those ear hairs since I want to use them for a potential rake over some day.

And so we come down to the final clips and combs, the stepping back and away to analyze his work, Dr. Scissorhands takes out the mirror and shows me his masterpiece. Overcome by the beauty of what I see, I completely miss the haircut he did, while stating: “WOW! How beautiful!” (That happens a lot!)

Mrs. Scissorhands then begins to question me: “You like the haircut?”

“Yes!”

“Not too short?”

“No!”

“Not too long?”

“No.”

“Just right?”

I pause to weight my response, since I exhausted two options, I didn’t want to be contradictory: “Yes! I guess it IS just right!”

“Good! Come back soon?”

“Well, let’s wait ‘til this one grows out first.”

CLEARING IT ALL UP!

Lois (Toots II)

For years I have written about Toots II, also known as Lois, and how much she looks and sounds like TLW (The Little Woman) a.k.a. Toots I. By the time you read this, Toots II will be gone, ensconced in her private world of retirement

There are many faces that are saddened as you read, both in members and co-workers, since she was a mother figure and a professional in her approach to her job. Her most important asset was her ability not to impose herself on anyone, either in words or deeds!

That is not to say she didn’t harbor a very funny and sarcastic observation that might suddenly appear out of the blue. She was the go to lady, the lady they all measured themselves against when a measure was needed.

His development has a significant effect on TLW, her look alike in that her work load will now double because of the need for a comfort level from members who preferred Toots II at the Wanna-Be-Bank & Truss Co.

I will have to be on my best behavior since Toots II AKA Lois has retired and may not care anymore and give me a noogy on my head as a member or customer of the Wanna-Be-Bank & Truss Co. when she sees me next! Former members who have given her grief would be wise to avoid her presence since she no longer has to take any crap. This fact alone would and should send shivers down the spines of the culprits as she will fix their wagons and then casually go back to her i-pad, like nothing happened.

From now on TLW will hear from some member telling a story to her that was really told to Toots II in confusion, and this will probably go on for some time.

The only benefit to losing Toots II will be that TLW could be sent home by mistake, ther supervisor thinking it is Toots II, while saying: “You still here? Go home!”

So a sweet and gentle lady will no longer grace the Wanna-Be-Bank and Truss Co., the place a little less inviting and fun for those who work there, and a little more imposing for those that need it.

So long Lois, it was a great time, stay healthy and happy.

FACING FACEBOOK

Or why do I do it?

A few years ago I got on Facebook on the recommendation of an old classmate of mine while trying to find classmates for a planned high school reunion. Since that day I have visited the page all too often, and with the same dedication as a Wall Street investor checking a ticker tape.

Now there is nothing wrong with Facebook that a good enema wouldn’t cure, but still I saturate my brain with: ‘Likes’ ‘Comments’ and ‘Share’ clicks. It is so bad I had to seek spiritual guidance in the form of an old friend of mine, JoJo Cardinal Chocolate’! He on occasion has taken to make spiritual announcements to help guide the misguided. Being how I am misguided, he leads me often.

The good Cardinal

One of the things that I find frustrating is the use of the same old thing, day after day, for instance the request to click on something within 3 seconds and see what happens. Maybe you need to find the ‘mistake’ or maybe you need to get a catchy saying or smart-ass photo off the Internet to prove you are savvy.

There was an awful (and I mean awful) amount of political posturing going on between the liberals and conservatives this past presidential election about how ridiculous the other side is. We don’t need Facebook for that: that is why we have congress.

“LOL”, “OMG”, and “LMAO” not to mention: “TTYL” have all taken hold in our ordinary lexicon thanks to Facebook! One cannot even escape the ads that now appear in the media without a reference to: “Check us out on Facebook” being included. I remember when only the reference to a website was a novelty then an everyday occurrence.

We have discovered old friends and enemies and have made new friends and enemies, ‘friend’ing and ‘unfriend’ing as we go. I even have friends and relatives that I never had before, and don’t know anything about them, but let’s face it, who cares?

I have seen the proliferation of under classmates and classmates who now have grandchildren, thinking they are too young for that, and I have all too often heard of the demise of one or two every few months.

Then there is ‘instant messages’. How do you gracefully end a ‘IM’ with someone. Actually they pop up and someone always writes: Are you there?” Well physically yes, but mentally, emotionally, who knows?

I’m not going to twitter about it, but you know what I mean

EXCEEDING EXPECTATIONS

I managed to get an appointment at the Toyota service department, a rather large building with a huge waiting room. Designed for the comfort of broken down owners, a kind of rehab or hospital for cars, I entered the place at 10:45 for my 11:00 am appointment.

I checked in and took a seat, and could clearly see my car where I parked it. Taking out my Kindle Fire, I began to read and on occasion check the status of the car. By 11:45 the car was still in the same spot I left it.

As I looked back at my Kindle, a sign was posted near the entrance of the waiting room: “WE EXPECT TO EXCEED YOUR EXPECTATIONS!”

Being as how I was a little annoyed that I was still in the waiting room and the car hadn’t moved, it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe they had taken the car and were done? Could this be? The sign said it was possible. Maybe they were done and were not charging me too? Maybe they felt the guilt they should have for making DelBloggolo wait, and all I needed was to get my keys and drive off!

As that last thought entered my head, a mechanic comes out and takes my car in for the service intended, washing away my dreams.

About 40 minutes later, I see the car reappear and I go in to pay for the new battery. The gal looks at the work order and says: “Wow! That is expensive for a battery! Must be a special battery. Oh, it’s a hybrid you have. That will be $269.”

Well, the sign made sense: the price exceeded my expectations!

MEMORIES

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New Year's Eve I went to my mother’s home to get her a few things to make her feel at home in the rehabilitation center. Since it is the Christmas season her home is still decorated.

I don’t usually roam about her house, but I took the time to leisurely stroll and take a look at things she displayed for Christmas and throughout the year.

That's NOT the baby Jesus she's holding

On a windowsill sat a manger, perhaps 70 some odd years old. By now it is missing pieces, baby Jesus was replaced and looms larger than his parents and the three wise men. The stable still has it’s straw roof and stone like painted walls, and one of the sheep has a missing foot but still manages to stand with some clever positioning. It took me back to Christmas’ past, the Brooklyn apartment, and the magic that once was as a child.

Along the way I found this wooden music box I carved for Mom so many years ago I forgot I did it! I opened the box and it still played! She always encouraged me to be creative. There is a bowl and pitcher and a vase I bought for her with my own money while in college. Money I could have used for myself, yet this made me feel so much better! I reminded me of the days I spent coming home from school or work, a hot meal sitting in the stove waiting for me, meaning she cared.

Of course one thing she never liked was for anyone to sit in her living room, and made a stink if anyone dared to. Coming from a dirt-poor family, her living room was like her bedroom and the bedspreads, a sign of ‘nice things’, her having something special that said she was of value. She didn’t need those icons: we are all feeling the pain of her aging everyday and have been for years. Being how she wasn’t around, I sat in the chair, respectfully, knowing if I were caught, a wooden spoon could come raining down upon my senseless noggin! I call that flirting with danger!

But the thing that brought the most bittersweet moments came when I went into her back bedrooms. There on one wall sat some pictures of her kids all together, smiling. It was something she arranged and it must mean a lot to her. On her dresser was a picture of me as a baby, maybe a year old. As I wandered there was yet another surprise, my wedding picture on her bedroom wall, TLW (The Little Woman) and I posing in a gazebo on Byron Lake in Sayville, over 41 year ago!

I guess one should suspect these surprises to occur, but she is mom, a higher authority, someone to love and respect, who taught and nurtured and established the kind of children she wanted us to be. I have four beautiful sisters with inner beauty as well, for that I am grateful.

And so someday, when God finally calls her, I will ask for some small object from her home, and I will place it somewhere in my house that is not intrusive, but I will see everyday and remember her. I think that is what she is like: not intrusive or attention seeking and quiet, and that is what she would want.

BATTERY NOT INCLUDED

As we sat in my Toyota Prius, Henry, Mom’s boy toy marveled at the simplicity and economy of the car. We were heading to mom’s house and were going to do a few things that were needed as mom was recuperating in the hospital.

Impressed by the gauges that told the driver everything he needed to know, Henry kept feeding me questions and I kept answering as we drove along. The drive back to the hospital was no different as Henry continued his bombardment of questions.

Parking in the hospital parking lot, we got out of the car and I noticed the engine although shut down, the car was indicating some kind of pinging sound or bell that was trying to tell me something. So I got back into the car, restarted it and shut down again. Still the little warning was going off, so I tried once again. By now a driving cold rain and wind was making itself felt, running through my bones and all I wanted to do was get dry and warm. I thought I didn’t hear it warning anymore so figured whatever was the problem corrected itself somehow, and ran off to the shelter of the hospital.

After my visit with mom, I walked out of the hospital into the driving rain and cold wind once again. It was about 3:30 pm and the overcast day seemed even more cold and dreary than before. All I could think about was getting home, sitting in my chair and maybe watching a ballgame while I waited for TLW (The Little Woman) to return home form work so we could have a drink and either go out to dinner or eat in.

Reaching the car, I hear the sound of the pinging again and realize I may be in trouble! I get in and try to start the car and it won’t start, the indicators are going off and the lights flickering and bells ringing with little icons that are flashing! I try once more and nothing. Silence. Dead still. There is no power in my Japanese import. It is getting back at me for racist jokes I made many years ago on December 7^th.

I have to get out my wallet, look for my AAA card and call. They respond and send out a tow, telling me they will have someone there by 4:15. I get a second call telling me who will be coming. A third call comes from my tow truck telling me to be sure to pop my hood, and to look out for him.

Within a half hour of my initial call, the tow comes, and the guy walks over to the car with a charger and plugs into my battery and I start it and we are off and running. He asks me if the battery is the original and I say I don’t know since I purchased the car used a few years ago. I tell him my expert mechanic at home: TLW has been warning me that it is the starter, and the tow guy, obviously a mechanic himself says: “No, tell your wife it is the battery!”

I never changed the starter because I didn’t think it was, I though it was the way I was shutting down the engine since this happened twice before, and the starter was always immediate and strong.

As I drive away from the hospital, a little sadness overcomes me, as I think about TLW: she is losing her edge!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

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My wish for you is to enjoy 7 wonders of the world in 2013 that I love. These wonders are sometimes taken for granted, but when witnessed are greatly enjoyed. They are NOT the great 7 wonders of the world, but part of the many wonders of the world.

1.     The sound of a baby’s laugh.

2.     The elated feeling of the first beautiful day in springtime.

3.     The softness of a lover’s kiss

4.     Holding the hand of the one you love

5.     The sweet serenity of an ocean pressing the shore

6.     The playfulness of a puppy or kitten

7.     To hear the sounds of these words: I love you.

With these wonders, may they lead you on to the many more that exist in this world, helping you find the true prosperity that lies within all our hearts and souls.

2013 is filled with many uncertainties. We are all another year older, and hopefully another year wiser.  There is new music to hear and new art to appreciate, a chance to dance, no matter how silly or purposeful you dance. There are new things to smile about, and new faces to meet: and don’t forget those we love, their smile, kiss or comfort of being there for you.

Don’t be afraid to crouch down and speak to a child, and reach up and speak to the elderly. Listen to what they say and thank them for all they did to make this world better. Be patient with your mate, kind and loving, it is their sacrifice to live their life with you. that is a tremendous gift. Be giving, don’t take without leaving something good in it’s place.

Live for your significant other, not for yourself, and be devoted and gentle. To those that have wrong you, forget and move on, vengeance is a form of admission to defeat. If you can reach out to them, do so, and if they slap your hand away, thank them for their honesty with you, and move on.

I wish for you good health, and may your fortune be so great to share with all those you know and love, and for those that need you most: family, friends and strangers. I wish you a safe and joyous journey through the rest of your lives, and hope we can touch upon each other’s one more time.

HAPPY NEW YEAR AND GOD BLESS YOU ALL.

NEW YEARS EVE

I guess I’m really happy about the year ending. It has been a lousy year in that my family lost two wonderful people, and they can’t be replaced.

This New Year’s Eve I’m going to bed the regular time and don’t want to count the minutes or do anything that is any different than any other night. I could never understand the idea and never got excited about the calendar changing, signifying we are all getting older and are all mortal. Party pooper? Yes I am this year.

There are few New Year’s Eve parties I’ve gone to in my lifetime. The last one was in the Mediterranean Manor in Patchogue about 23 years ago! That was a full-fledged New Year’s Eve party with party hats, noisemakers and booze. You need to have just one in a lifetime and then move on. I will look over to the other recliner this year, wish TLW the best New Year ever, kiss her and head off to bed contented she is near.  As long as the Little Woman (TLW) and my children are healthy I am happy.

There are people that I will no longer see in life, the ones that disappoint me, make me see shallowness in them or just are users, I wish well. There are new people in life to come and the ones I know and love, you dear reader: that I write to everyday.

The upcoming year will mark seven years of writing to you on this blogue, sharing my life and experiences, the good and the bad. Think of this blogue as a holiday letter that you get in a holiday greeting card, but one I send out everyday with my best wishes for you and your family.

There are things I need to do yet, unfinished business, and things I wish not to do, and dread and there are new places that I will go to, all part of a life experience.

So, goodbye 2012 and hello 2013!

And to you dear Reader: Have a safe and healthy year’s end, no matter how you spend the evening. Remember there are people in your life that love you, need you and want to see you safe.

Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?

HOW SAD!

I remember her vividly, holding my hand as we crossed Stone Avenue in Brooklyn. It was Halloween and the day was cold, she was wearing a fake fur coat, the collar fur waving in the cold breeze, her eyes squinting against the blast. Her Roman features: solid and beautiful lay kindly on my memory. She was carrying a box of cupcakes frosted in orange icing and black sprinkles for dessert after the night’s dinner.

Mom was quiet and not complaining, just doing what she did best, teaching me not to complain, to make the best of things, that in the end there are rewards for everything we do in life, if we try, even that cold walk held a lesson.

There were other lessons small like that, inconsequential maybe, but valuable non-the-less.

Yesterday as she sat up for the first time in the hospital room, a calm overcame her as she mused quietly, her two oldest children determining her future, making our presence felt. She had lost her youngest and sole surviving sister in April, and my older sister Tess suffering herself from the ravages of getting older when she lost a wonderful man struggled with her emotions as we all do when it comes to a mom who is no longer in control.

We have found mom a rehab center in a nursing home. A nursing home is where old people go, where they wait out their remaining years on Earth. Mom was always so vital, even in her 90’s.

Suddenly we were holding her hand, leading her across Stone Avenue, and it isn’t cupcakes we are holding but an uncertain future, a pending uncertainty that has no clues other than the sadness it projects in shadows and pained sighs.

Mom would always squint her eyes when I showed up, waiting for my punch line, some crazy antic, maybe some insane observation, a laugh slowly building, a smile forming on her stern lips. Today all I see is sadness, deep contemplation and acceptance.

Once many years ago I attended a dance at a wedding before I was married. I got to talking to this very sweet and attractive girl and we talked for along time. But as the hours wore down to minutes and I had to say goodbye, sadness was sweeping in like a cold weather front, I knew I wouldn’t see her again because I didn’t want to get serious just then. That feeling of loss hit me once again, that coldness, that sense of the clock suddenly came back, and I think mom senses it too.

I know many of you have lost a parent, and know what I am talking about, but whether it comes early on or late in life, it still hurts.

A LONG DAY

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Arriving at the hospital to see mom, I found her in her bed with my older sister (Much older) Tessie standing next to her. Tess is the shining example for all her sibs as what to do when it comes to elderly parents. Loyal, devoted and true, she watches that mom has all she needs and wants, will ask questions that Mom won’t or doesn’t think to ask, and is as always a great companion to her mother.

I arrived and we immediately had a sibs conference on the way to the cafeteria after I greeted mom, for a cup of coffee as mom was wheeled down to the x-ray room in her bed.

“Joe, let’s go to the cafeteria, for something.”

“There’s a coffee shop right there!”

“No, let’s go to the cafeteria.”

We start the long walk to the cafeteria, and enter me looking for coffee and Tessie, my older sister (much older) looking for lunch. As she dilly-dallies around the food I go get a cup of coffee and go to the checkout counter. I see her speaking to a uniformed worker as I wait on the checkout line. Who shows up at the register but the uniformed lady who was talking to Tessie my older sister (Much older). The lady looks at me and says:

“Do you work here?”

“No!”

“Well this cafeteria is for employees only.”

Awkwardly I stand there with a cup of coffee as she says:

“I sell you the coffee but this IS for employees only!”

I turn around to see Tessie my older sister (Much older) standing in the back laughing her fool head off at my expense.

With my head down and great shame I walk the long path back to where she is standing, embarrassed and ready to have one sister less within minutes.

But it doesn’t end there, no. We find our way to the cafeteria and she gets something to eat and as we sit at a table, some obnoxious lady is on her cell phone, speaking loud enough for the medical building down the road to hear her conversation which goes:

“DO YOU WANT ME TO DROP BY?”

Tessie, getting sillier by the moment shouts out: “No!”

If mom weren’t feeling so badly I’d get her wooden spoon and tell her to go see her daughter for a change.