Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts

Saturday, March 23, 2013

Jello Memories

In my last blog post I wrote about making new memories.  I think one of the things I love most about making new memories with Lilly is how it often brings me back to my own childhood memories.  I am pretty darn lucky that my memories are so wonderful.  I know how blessed I am to have had such a childhood because I work with children who do not always have good memories.  Or their good memories are so far from how I define good that it saddens me.  While I know that my childhood was not perfect, I have very few bad memories.

Yesterday I was making jello with Lilly.  A few years ago I tried making it but she refused to eat it.  I ended up eating an entire pan of orange jello.  It was more than a little sickening.   She has now decided that she likes jello.  She picked out grape (hello, purple!) and raspberry lemonade or some such newfangled flavor.  She was very excited to make it with me.  I obviously stirred it initially since it requires adding boiling water, but then she helped stir the jello powder until it disolved.  We talked about how it would not be ready until tomorrow (today) which is why we made it at night.

Waiting is a hard thing for kids.  Scratch that, waiting is hard!   Lilly was pretty okay with it.  She understands what finished jello looks like so she knew that this was NOT finished.  Without telling her what I was doing, I got out a spoon and scooped a bit of the cooled jello mixture just before I put it in the fridge.  I told her that this is what Nanny used to do for me and I gave her a taste.  It brought me right back to 188 aka Nanny's house, where she would give me a little taste of the not-yet-ready jello from the fridge.  Watching Lilly's face light up at the taste of the warm liquidy goodness was fun.  Watching her smile as she thought of me as Nanny's little granddaughter was priceless.

And you know what?  Knowing that I look back and see the good memories gives me hope that Lilly, too, will someday look back and see only the good, and forgive me for my mom-mistakes.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

****Sandy****

My Jersey Shore

I put off writing about this.  The truth is, I have not been emotionally able to do so.  I have been in a state of disbelief and sorrow.

How I wish that Hurricane/Super Storm Sandy was the flop that people were saying it would be.  How I wish that I never got to witness the greatest storm of my lifetime, maybe my daughter's lifetime.  I never, ever thought that I would be witness to such devastation in my home state.  There have been storms, sure, that have knocked down trees and power lines.  But nothing even rivals the destruction that Sandy brought with her.

Sandy has re-shaped the Jersey coastline.  The Jersey shore, as I know it, will never be the same.  My childhood memories were created in the sand and waves of  the Jersey Shore.  Ocean City, Avon-by-the-Sea, Ocean Grove, Seven Presidents, and Long Beach Island, to name a few, were all beaches I frequented.  My grandparents lived near Ocean City, NJ and so many a day I was covered head to toe in sand and spent hours at a time in the waves.  On hot summer days my mom would pack us up and we would drive down to spend the day on the beach, often meeting friends there.  I spent many, many wonderful times in Avalon with my aunts, uncles and cousins.  I vacationed on LBI, pretending I was Ariel, singing "Part of this world" as I floated on a boogie board.

Introducing Lilly to the shore has been one of the greatest pleasures of motherhood to me.  I have pictures of Lilly each summer down the shore and they are some of my favorites of her.  Seeing Lilly get as much pleasure from the sand and waves as I did makes my heart happy.  Here are some of posts about the Jersey Shore.  2012  2011  2011 #2 I am not sure this wil work, but this is a link to my facebook album from Lilly's trip to Aunt Cathy's house.  Let me know in the comments if it doesn't!

August 2012, Normandy Beach


Leading up to and through the storm I was able to follow what was going on through my local message board MaplewoodOnline.  Now it is a source of hope and resources as we were without power and for gas and food.  (I used my phone.)  I am immensely proud of my hometowns of Maplewood and South Orange.  Local businesses have been donating food, coffee, warmth, electricity to charge phones  and perhaps most importantly, community.  My salon was washing the hair of people who had no electricity (ergo, hot water) free of charge.  The owner of the local deli (my old neighbor) has stated that people who are hungry but have no money just need to ask for him and he would take care of them.  The local churches have opened their doors for warmth and food.

Janice and Lilly 
Jane's beautiful house
I have stayed many days with my friend Jane in Normandy Beach at her beach bungalow, which she then rebuilt into her full time residence.  I am not sure how Jane's house is.  Her area, in particular, was hit severely.   I also spent time with my friend Janice at her beautiful house, only a few blocks from Jane's, in Mantoloking.  She and her husband retired last year from my school district.  On Tuesday she posted on Facebook that the Hoboken Little League field house cafe was open and serving food.  And her beautiful shore house....gone.  It was one of the houses that exploded because the gas lines were not turned off right away.  In the midst of her own personal tragedy, she was helping others.  
The view from the bay, by Janice's house.
If you don't know, I am a teacher in Hoboken.  Hoboken was completely flooded during this storm due to the storm surge.  It is still drying out.  School is closed through Tuesday, hoping to open by Wednesday.  There are many residents, including  some students and co-workers who have lost everything.  Our school buildings have been turned into shelters.  The train station was under water.  I don't think I could get there if I tried, right now.  
The streets of Hoboken


As for me and my family, we got out of the storm with power outages, a fridge full of spoiled food, and trouble getting gas.  My father-in-law met us on the highway with a can of gas.  We coasted on fumes into a gas station in Pennsylvania.  We have been staying with my in-laws in the Poconos so that we can avoid the choas of my area.  Stores are without food; gas lines are 3-4 hours long; tempers are flaring.  We are going home today.  Vin starts his new job tomorrow.  I have to figure out how I will get to work on Wednesday.  But my power is back and I can buy new food.  We will be fine.  

As for the Jersey Shore, I am not sure what is going to happen.  My whole state is a mess right now...power still out in many places, gas rationing, curfews.  I am not going to post pictures of the destruction.  If you want to see them, go here or here.  I spoke (via text) to my Godfather who is a minister at a church down near Long Beach Island.  His church King of Kings has opened their doors as a shelter.  I asked him if I could bring him donations of clothes, etc.  He said right now the emotional giving is happening, but the real needs will show in the next few weeks.  Peoples' lives were forever changed by this event.  But I know that we are not only strong, we are Jersey Strong!!

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

I will never forget.

I wrote this last year, on the 10th anniversary of 9/11. Today, I did not watch tv, did not listen to the reading of the names.  I went to work.  I wish that I was able to take the time to reflect like I have been able to in years past.  I think it is time for 9/11 to be a day off so that we have that time for reflection.  I remember only a few years ago that I was still crying non-stop on this terrible anniversary.

I was feeling disappointed in myself for not making the time to go see the towers of light or visit a memorial.  I was thinking this as I sat waiting in Lilly's dance class.  I realized in that moment, watching Lilly "learn her 3s" that I was honoring those who are no longer here to do this with their little ones, or who maybe were never able to be a parent because they were taken too soon.   In the days following 9/11, I attended several benefits sponsored by Irish American Societies, e.g. The Emerald Society.  I saw lots of Irish step dancing, heard many bagpipes.  It seemed fitting that Lilly started Irish step dance class today.

So today I worked; I brought Lilly to her 1st Irish step dance class.  I hugged my family.  Please hug yours.

Monday, January 16, 2012

In memory of Nanny

Lilly sitting on Nanny's lap, 11/13/11
I have written it in my mind a million times.  I have tried to write it here several times.  I have heard and read what my relatives have written.  There are a lot of similarities among the speeches and writings of my relatives.  I think that is the beauty of Nanny.  Here are my thoughts.  Please excuse any seeming randomness as it was written over several days.

Nanny, Nana, Nan, and even Lilly's pet name, Nanny-nini....We had different names for our grandmother  and that makes sense to me now.  Nanny had a very special ability to have a special and unique relationship with all of her grandchildren.  During my Uncle Pat's eulogy for her, he spoke of how each one of us was her "favorite" grandchild.  I know that to be true.  She not only loved each one of us, she was proud of each one of us for whatever our talent or strength was, for just being who we were.  Nanny was our champion.  She may not have been vocal about it to others, but she would tell us that we could do it, even if was a whispered moment after dinner.

But I think that were certain things that Nanny did that we will always remember as "Nanny" moments.  Which of us has not played a hand of cards with Nanny? Whether it was Old Maid or War when we were little, Gin Rummy as we got older or a new game that she was willing to learn from Jeremiah, cards was a Nanny thing.  And the only time Nanny or I could beat Jeremiah at said game was when he was recovering from foot surgery on pain killers!

Being the eldest grandchild and also living so close to her I was blessed to have a unique relationship with Nanny.  I was in her house as a little girl on a daily or close to daily basis.  I remember clearly, Nanny letting me have a sip of the jello before it cooled, climbing into her bed with her and trying to open her eyes, "Are you awake Nanny?"  And this after she worked all night at the hospital.  I don't remember but Nanny would always remind me that I would ask for white macamonies, not red ones and ask why that cat wasn't getting milk on hims cereals.   My Aunt Nancy or maybe my Uncle Pat shared the memory of looking in Nanny's uniform pocket for a mint or a butterscotch.  I remember finding peppermint patties and was it Neccos? tucked in among the tissues.

When my parents had a late night event, Nanny was often our babysitter.  She would make us "hamburgs" with fresh meat from the butcher.  Better than McDonalds she would tell the ever picky Joey.  We would have cantaloupe and vanilla yogurt for dessert or maybe some fruit cocktail.  And if she slept over?  "She's still here" we would shout in the morning!

Fleming birthday parties....I am not sure I can write about them right now.  But I promise I will at some point.  They will never be the same without Nanny.

And will I ever forget the first time I drive Nanny home from one of the boy's ball games in my stick shift car and got stuck on a hill?  Just relax, take a breath.  I know you can do it.  Here's what you do...

When I was in college I commuted to Montclair State and would drive past Nanny's house on the way home maybe once a week.  If her porch light was on, she was up, and she almost always was.  I would go in for a chat and a piece of chicken that she cooked with some red sauce over some pasta.  Maybe a hamburg on toast if she had recently been to the butcher.  I thought you might stop by, so I got a little extra, she would say.  Here, stretch out on the sofa and rest your eyes while I get you a little food.  You must be tired.  


After her open-heart surgery, while I was still in college, I stayed with Nanny at night for a couple weeks when she came home so that she would not be alone.  It was probably the first time I saw her as vulnerable.  However as I drove her to an appointment around that same time, she challenged any thoughts of vulnerability as she leaned over me to honk my horn at a school bus that cut in front of me, shaking her fist out the window at the driver.

I moved to an apartment in Belleville, nearly the next town over from Nanny, when I was 24.  I asked Nanny if I could go to Mass with her one Sunday because I didn't like to go by myself.  She gladly accepted and we would meet at Sacred Heart and afterward we would go back and have some breakfast: some scrambled eggs and taylor ham, again, from the butcher.  When it became cold and icy, I started picking her up and driving her to Mass.  We would pick up her friend Philomena along the way and maybe another lady friend, too.  They would tease me, Driving Miss Nanny, as I drove along oh so carefully in the Cadillac.  It became a tradition, Mass and breakfast on Sunday morning.   I would leave in the early afternoon just in time for her to get ready for her lunch with Mrs. Welsh (Manhattans chilling) or Jerry & Ann.  I was always invited to stay, and sometimes I regret not saying yes, once or twice at least.

The mornings I got home at 2:30am after the bars closed at 2...those were rough!  But I would try hard not to let on.   Sometimes my friend and roommate Colleen joined us for Mass and breakfast.  And when I moved further away to Maplewood, I still went to Mass with her sometimes, but not nearly every week.  Another regret, not going every week, even after moving...

Fast forward....I am pregnant with Lilly.  I used to call Nanny and give her the updates on what was happening.  "The baby is the size of a lemon Nanny!  She or he has fingernails and fingerprints.  I can feel the baby moving!"  I asked her to come to an ultrasound with me.  She met me there since it was right up the block.  When I told the tech that she had been a baby nurse and had delivered babies herself she asked nanny if she had seen anything like this.  No, nothing like this! And the u/s tech showed Nanny all the details, even though I was only there for a quick check-up.  It made that very special time all the more so.

And watching Nanny rock my Lilly and sing to her, probably the same lullabies she sang to her children?  It brought me to tears, always.  Most of the pictures I have of Nanny in the past 3.5 years do not have me in them because I wanted to capture the moments with Lilly.  They had a very special relationship.  Lilly was her doll baby.  I made an album for Nanny with pictures of Lilly with her and I titled it: Nanny and Lilly, A Love Story because theirs truly was.  How telling it is that Lilly, though sad that she will miss Nanny, is not afraid that she is not here because she knows that she is with the angels.  I have a feeling Nanny herself let her know.

It was hard when Nanny moved.  She would call me and say Mel, I am so lonesome for you.  And for Lilly.  Can you come visit one day after work?  Maybe soon you can come for a visit.  And I would have to remind her that I could not go to PA after work.  That it was too far for a weeknight visit.  Remembering that makes me so sad, wishing I had visited more often.

I know that Nanny was not perfect.  She may have been the queen of the backhand compliment.  As she grabbed some fabric from the seat of my pants, "You look good now that you lost some of that weight!"  (Obviously not a recent comment!)  But I believe she never meant it unkindly, that she really did mean the compliment part of it. But I was reminded, again by Uncle Pat, about something by which Nanny lived.  I have found that in my own life I have struggled with this, and Nanny would occasionally gently remind me of her motto: Is it true? Is it necessary?  Is it kind?  Since the birth of Lilly in particular, I have really tried to live that, without even putting those words to it, just knowing that I wanted to become a better person in that regard.  I don't think I have heard Nanny say those words in many years.  But I now hear her voice saying them in my head every day.

And my mom reminded me of Nanny's love for the Infant Jesus.  Lilly and I say the prayer she has taught all of us about the Infant Jesus.  And Nanny believed in bringing your problems to Jesus.  Just say a little prayer Mel.  He'll tell you what to do.  Another word that was used to describe Nanny was forgiving.  I know she had a forgiving spirit.  She had a difficult life for a very long time and she did not let it get her down.  I don't think you can live, in spite of all the problems like she did, if you are not forgiving.

It is true that the secret to my meatballs was learned from Nanny, but, as delicious as they are, she taught more important lessons by the way in which she lived her life.  Only speak words that are true, necessary and kind; pray daily to the Infant Jesus and bring your problems to Him; forgive.  

You know what though?  I am so glad I learned how to make meatballs like Nanny.  I am especially grateful I learned by watching her oh so many times.  But Nan, how do you know you've added enough? You can feel it Mel.  Feel it with your fingers, like this.  Her fingers putting some meat in mine...touching my fingers with hers.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Isn't it ironic?

I can't help myself...I love Alanis Morrisette.  She was my ultimate go-to music after very-bad-dates and experiences with boys-who-suck.  I would blast her loud and long while driving my tiny Hyundai Excel.

But seriously, can you get any more ironic than discovering your first white hair while you are investigating a zit in your hairline?

And by the way, I am considering this Saturday's post because dammit, I am still wide awake!

Friday, September 11, 2009

reflections

Today is September 11th. 8 years ago today our world was rocked, literally and figuratively. I remember details about that day that I don't remember about any other day in my life.

I woke up with plenty of time to get ready for work, not my usual manic rush. I put the news on and the big news of the day was that Michael Jordan was going to play basketball again. I thought, wow, we must be doing pretty good that Michael Jordan is the biggest news story. It was an amazing day that hinted of autumn. Crisp blue skies, a few fair weather clouds, warm without being hot. I drove to work, which was a new job for me. I had just started teaching in Newark, NJ at the North Ward Child Development Center. I taught preschool in a 3-year-old class. School had really just started a few days earlier so it was still kind of chaotic.

I was getting the children ready to go out to the playground when a mom came running in frantically, tears streaming down her face. "I need my baby, something terrible has happened." She told us in spanish. As we tried to calm her down and find out what the terrible thing was disbelief was hitting us. What do you mean the twin towers were hit? Her aunt was a maintenance worker in one of the buildings and called to relay the information. I took her down to the main office for her to get permission to take her daughter out early and also to spread the word. I was the first person to hear the news in the childcare center.

The administration called downstairs about the same time telling everyone that Newark was on high alert because of the buildings there. We were not all that far from downtown Newark and they wanted the children inside. I went back to my classroom in my little building and turned on the radio. At that point I heard that the 1st tower collapsed. I immediately called my (then) boyfriend, Keith, who was a police officer. He had just had 2 days off and was due into work that night, so he was sleeping. He did not answer his phone so I called his father and told him the news. His father did not really believe it but turned the news on while we were talking and then went to go wake up his son. Keith called me a few minutes later letting me know that he was called in because no one knew what was going on. I also called my mom and told her to turn the news on.

Eventually I was able to go home that day. As I was driving home I realized that I could drive down one street in my town (Belleville) and see the Twin Towers. I drove down the street and almost stopped short, along with other people doing the same thing. All that could be seen was smoke and clouds of ash.

That night I made a large baked ziti and cookies to take to my boyfriend's station. They had been working for many hours and would continue to be doing so. The Garden State Parkway was empty. Tolls did not have to be paid and the only police officers on the road were going speeding in the direction of NYC.

My one roommate had just moved out and 2 were moving in. Shanna was already there but Colleen, one of my closest friends in the world, was not moving in for another month. She worked in NYC and I could not get in touch with her until the next day. I was missing my old roommate and her daughter that day.

For the next several days all I could do was watch TV and cry. I was drawn to the TV yet I wanted to turn it off. I remember feeling that I owed it to those who lost their lives to watch the horror unfold. I finally forced myself to turn it off one day and then I did not watch any TV for several weeks.

I remember there were parades of cars that would drive up the main drag with flags flying and neighbors were encouraged to put out lit candles and turn off their lights. The songs that were played over the radio during that time are linked to those events, in my mind.

My boyfriend went into NYC to help with the recovery. That changed him forever. He felt that he could never bring children into a world like this, especially as he was a cop. Several months later he broke up with me. I believe we may have been on the path anyway, but the events of 9/11 were a turning point for him.

Over the next several years I would grow and change as a person. I would experience different heartaches and joys. Every year I think that it might not hurt as much this year. Every year I am wrong. I have been crying on and off all day today. That day will always bring up very painful memories. But I have realized that I really don't want the hurting to stop or to lessen. It is a day for reflection and rememberance; but also for being thankful for what we do have.

I am grateful for my husband Vinnie, my daughter Lilly, and all the members of my family. I am grateful for my health, in light of 1st responders who are suffering now. I am grateful that I did not become cynical and think that this is no time to bring a baby into this world. My life is better because of Lilly. The world is better because of Lilly. The world is better because of every child who is born.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

summer nights

On Thursday I went for a walk after dinner with Lilly. It was a hot, humid day so I had waited until the sun was going down. As I was walking I was brought back to summer nights of my childhood by the mere scent wafting on the warm breezes. It was a combination of honeysuckle, other fragrant flowers and maybe OFF bug spray. There was a movie in the park that night, so there were plenty of people walking around and kids playing. I was remembering catching fireflies with my brothers, watching the bats swooping around with my parents and going to sleep-away camp every summer. Sweet summer memories!