spirit is everything

I truly loved my last blog so much, it pains me to write this one. 

I'd rather be a positive Patty than a sick Sally any day of the week, but alas, today Sally is in the house.

As a direct result of radiation treatment for breast cancer I have developed a debilitating pneumonia.  Call it radiation pneumenitis, call it whatever you like, it's pretty bad.

Interesting to note that I was able to work through five weeks of a six week radiation treatment course before needing to take off only for the last week because my breast tissue was just too uncomfortable and I was exhausted.  However, this pneumonia that has developed only eight months later, has flattened me.  I've never been hit by a slower moving train.

Funny, the day before I woke up with a horrific, piercing pain in my left lung, I was in a very good place.  I felt as if I were getting my life back.  I was looking forward and trying to plan a little trip to Florida to surprise my niece, nephew and Mother whom I haven't seen in several years.   I was thinking about planning a birthday celebration.   I was thinking of a lot of positive things.  Life had other plans, however.

It's been a pretty hard blow.  I find myself wallowing in the whys and what's of what is truly going on in this body of mine.  I have had it for close to 50 years now and its cells have memory.  I'm wondering if it's just a simple side effect of the radiation or something more.

It's always something more, isn't it?

Just when I think I've worked through some hardship, past hurt, or painful memory, something or someone happens and BAM! 

I'm pretty sure I can put my finger on the exact trigger of this one.

This pain, this ill, this poison has been around me my whole life.  It's the exact opposite of the AGAPE love I wrote about in my last blog.  It's so human and flawed that it's potential to destroy is as strong as God's potential to heal.  It has the ability to pierce your heart, your skin, your mind, your lung - if you let it, if you see it coming, and especially if you're still holding a grudge.

Am I still holding a grudge and if so, against whom?

Well, truth be told, and the truth is not so easy to tell all the time, I have a very toxic relationship in my life that I have tried and tried and tried to mend, to no avail. 

As a matter of fact, my most recent attempt at mending this fence was met with a frantic building up of an ever bigger, more painful fence by the other person.  Namely, my father. 

We do not see eye to eye on anything.  We are the most two different people on the planet and how we can even be related at times seems erroneous.  I do not belong to him, I never did.  We do not agree to disagree, it's just his way or no way.  His memory fails him and his lack of empathy is palpable, but not just to me.

My father is 76 years old now and in failing health.  He's lived his life exactly the way he's wanted to, no excuses.  I imagine he will do exactly what he wants to with his remaining years, even telling me a few weeks ago as I was trying yet again to reach him, that 'he doesn't miss me' and that 'everyone in the family HATES' me.

At least he finally admitted what I had been feeling my whole life, not about how the family feels because he can only speak for himself.  This was about how he felt about me.

What he was referring to was my recent absences, or unwillingness to fly to Florida over the past few years for a few family gatherings.  Granted, working through a divorce and cancer, according to him, were not valid excuses, it's something I should have gotten over by now especially because he set the example on how to get over his divorce, I guess.  So, the icing on the cake was hate.

That's been a pretty hard thing to process along with a lot of older pains that I have tried to work through, discuss and even forget.  This one....not so much.

This one was not hard, it was ridiculously hateful, painful, deliberate, and it's causing me to rethink everything I've ever thought about our relationship.  I had always known I was not Daddy's little girl.  I have been telling people that for years hoping to hear that every one's Dads are like this, but those closest to me remember things that even I've forgotten and they say things like "well, he was never there for you", and "he's always only been about himself".  So, why couldn't I just accept things the way they were?  Why couldn't I just settle for less?

Don't get me wrong, we've had some really wonderful times together - as adults mostly, and I won't get into my childhood here and my parents divorce, suffice to say it carved out a hole in my heart that only he could've filled - if he were honest with himself for putting it there in the first place and if he were willing to fill it.  It just seems that given half a chance to make me whole, he runs in the other direction into denial, frustration, no patience and then just finger pointing and anger.  I have had some real hurts that needed some real validation.  That's a lot of hard work to do on both of our parts but it's just not going to work if only one person rolls up their sleeves.  I've never been afraid to look at who I am and what I have or haven't done.  I have no problem with saying "I'm sorry - mea culpa".  Not sure where I get that from, but it's definitely not my Dad. 

And you know what?  I forgive him, I still pine for him, I still love him.   I will not however, allow this toxicity to invade my life any longer.  I feel as if for the first time he spoke his truth.  He never wanted children I believe.  I believe if he did, he wanted sons.  I was his last chance for a son in his first marriage and I was a disappointment as a girl who was jokingly called "Mario" for along time partly because I was a tomboy and I'm guessing because I was the son he never had so the "I don't miss you" and "everyone hate you" that's a direct quote from his heart and those closest to him - about me.  His flesh and blood.  His baby girl.

That's my cross to bear.  That's the lesson in forgiveness that God himself has allowed to come directly to me.  But why?

Deborah King, Spiritual Author and Healer, whom I met in person, took one look at me and said "boy, he really hurt you, didn't he"?  At the time, I wondered if she was referring to the man who molested me when I was twelve right after my parents divorced or if she meant my Dad because she was running her hand over my abdomen, but it was very clear that one molestation for me did not create a lifetime of pain.  She meant my Dad.  When he left my Mother and my sister, he took my heart with him and he never brought it back.  Of course, there are so many details that I'm leaving out and purposely so.  I'm not trying to paint it black.  I'm just trying to let go once and for all of someone who never held onto me as closely as he should have.  I'm trying to let go of the false notion that all families are perfect, all parents are perfect.  I'm not capable of romanticizing the past.  It wasn't romantic for me.  I was suicidal for most of it. 

Deborah went on to say that I wasn't ready yet to be a healer.  At that time, I had no idea how much more I would have to go through to be ready.  I wonder if she thinks I'm ready yet?  I don't believe so.  It still hurts too badly.  I haven't evolved enough as a healer if I'm still allowing anyone to disappoint me with their words, their deeds, or lack thereof.  I feel shortchanged on one hand and so very blessed on the other.  I feel so completely broken and felt so completely determined to fix it that every single time I tried to fix things - it just got worse and worse and now I'm here.

So what have I learned?

To start with, it is so important to speak YOUR truth.  It will make some people crazy, especially if their perception is not exactly in line with yours, as I'm sure is the case with my Dad.  I'm not so vain as to even think anyone is reading this blog, let alone my parent, but if he did see it because someone shares it with him, it will probably create more disturbance but if you read my past blogs - and I've blogged for many years - this topic was never touched.  I stayed clear of it.  I didn't want to speak my truth especially when everyone close to me has moved on and expected me to do so also.  I don't really care anymore.  I cannot walk around with this bottled up in me creating dis-ease any longer.  I tried my best to make a really bad situation better but you know what? 

Sometimes it just is what it is and you either accept it, forgive and move on - or you live a life of unmet expectations, disappointments and hurts and you know what that gets you?  Cancer.  Pneumonia.  Ill.

Speaking your truth does not mean hurting the people around you.  It does not mean hurt others to make yourself feel better.  It just means tell your TRUE story.  I wish I could tell my story and leave others out of it, but it wouldn't be much of a story would it?  It would just be me blabbering.  No.  I have a story to tell.  I have a biography, a life, a journey that has a beginning and a middle, so far.  I am planning a wonderful ending, I can tell you that much, if God lets me live long enough.

I have only always wanted to help people since I was young girl.  I remember telling my Dad that and he sarcastically said "then go to Africa and feed the starving children".  Not a note of sincerity in that,  he mocked me and you know what?  It didn't change that part of who I am, not one bit. 

There are 17 million hungry children in this country right now, hungry for love, food, attention.  When I am well, I am going to be reaching out to the organizations that feed them and I'm getting involved.  I pray that God would satisfy these children and allow me to feed some.  I pray that God would heal the world and allow me to heal some.  I'm not interested in hurting anyone for any reason.  I want my story to be all about helping others, not about helping myself.  I want my strength to help others.  I want my life to be a testimony of helping others.

Mother Teresa I am not, but I sure do look up to her and aspire to be half as good as the heart God gave her.

When I speak my truth, I pray that I am 'not bitter but better' as LL Cool J says.  I pray that my heart is full of forgiveness and that any hurt from my past is brought into the light and changed into a learning lesson to help others.  No, I did not survive the Holocaust.  No, I was not abused by my Dad.  I believe he loved me as best he could, or chose to, but a survivor I am. 

Like a phoeix rising, I will over come, from this life into the next taking all my battle scars proudly with me.  I am triumphant because of who is in me and for no other reason.  I will show you how great I am because of how great He is.

Now maybe you know why I cling to God so much.  Simple right?

Looking for Mercy Street

Sometimes the road we're on changes in the distance. 
It's not until we're right on top of it and then we realize,
we may be in for a bumpy ride.

Such is life I suppose.  The road is bumpy most days.  You have to carefully navigate your way through everything.  Going to the bakery for a loaf of crusty Italian bread is sometimes not an easy task living here in Northern New Jersey.  You will probably see a bird or two when driving since most of us around this area are in a constant hurry and if you stop where you shouldn't and slow someone else down, the birds, cuss words and beeping start almost immediately. 

The funny part about this is once you're in the bakery, those same people are nodding, slightly smiling and acknowledging the fact the weather is really nice today.  Once they're back in the cars or SUV's it's a whole 'nother' story.



We navigate the world and get used to doing it a certain way.
We sometimes go through life on auto-pilot not really appreciating
how we got from one place to another, so pre-occupied. 

 After having my mammography, I was sent for needle and stereotactic biopsies of both breasts only to find out I have the best possible scenario when it comes to the beginning stages of breast cancer.  One breast is more suspicious than the other (those suspicious breasts lol).  It seems that everything we navigate, we navigate in stages and this is no different.

As I navigate through this new world of medical problems, procedures, cures and treatments, my head is spinning.  I was on auto-pilot and very happy to be so, I guess, but the road has changed for me and tomorrow I find out just how much my near future with be affected by this new terrain.

Tomorrow I meet with a Surgeon to determine the best course of action once they remove the suspicious breast tissue.  I've been doing a little research and have heard that the treatment for Ductal carcinoma in situ and Lobular carcinoma in situ is medicine and radiation.  No one has said the word chemotheraphy to me and I'm quite happy with that although I haven't had the meeting with the surgeon yet so that remains to be seen.

Regardless, I am on this road now and the only option is getting well and preserving my life as best I can in the here and now.  I am not even 50 years old and I'm not done living.  Sure this is the best case scenario and it's early and all, but my mortality is staring and glaring me in the face taunting me, daring me not to look at it and using my faith as the main reason not to.  But I am a human being also and that in and of itself has it's human qualities.  I have memory.  I feel pain.  I bleed.  I cry.  I fear.  So I know that this is definetly not going to be easy.  Nothing ever is, is it?

Then one day the road we're on looks different.
It's not as smooth as we remember it being.
It's a whole lot more than we anticipated, but we're on it nonetheless.

And how am I?  Hmmm?  Well, I've had my moments.

When I first heard that there may be a problem, I knew deep down inside that it wasn't going to be over any time soon.  I was hoping that my intuition was wrong, but it rarely is.  I have a voice inside (call it my spirit, my angels, my God, Jesus, frankly I don't care, I just know it's there and I trust it) that guides me ever so gently.  It was quiet, yet cautious.  It wasn't until I got the results from the biopsies that everything was A-Okay that I kinda heard my spirit say 'not so fast'.  I wanted to rejoice so desperately.  I wanted to take a really deep breath and put this scare behind me, but something inside just didn't embrace the news.  Good thing too since shortly thereafter I got the phone call that A) this has never happened before (giving only partial news) B) the news went from great to not so great and C) everyone was apologizing to me.

I knew it.

I didn't want to believe that God would allow me to navigate this terraine, but why not?  Some of the most amazing people that I've ever known have been afflicted with this disease.  Why not me?

I had seen this road before a couple of times, more specifically once when I was a young girl living in Jersey City.  My Aunt Helen, who was married to my Uncle Larry, lived downstairs from my Grandmother Mary.  Aunt Helen had breast cancer and had a double masectomy as I recall.  It was horrific hearing my Grandmother Mary talk about her dear friend and Sister-In-Law Helen and how much pain she was in.  I remember my Grandmother wringing her hands and pacing back and forth talking on the telephone to our relatives giving them the updates.  Keeping in mind this was the early 70's and so much has changed since then, this is still my first contact with such a horrible disease.  It eventually took her life.

I will always remember my Aunt Helen.  She had the sweetest smile and she was always so very kind to me.  I realize now also how very brave she was.  She would be proud today of her family and I hope she knows how much I miss her.  I know she does and I know she's ever present ready to minister to me, as is my Grandmother Mary and my Aunt Jean, my Grandmother's Sister.  These women were the staples in our family surely keeping us together.  I miss them and wish I could seek counsel from them as well as comfort.

Interesting to note here that since Facebook has increased in popularity, my cousins have taken an interest in communicating with one another.  We are all together in cyberspace encouraging one another to get through life's bumpy terrains and it's terrific.  We were so close as children rarely not together that now, even though we're all grown and on our own paths, we're still so very close and want to be.  That's what family is all about...wanting to be with each other - not having to be.  There's a difference.

I have also lost a couple of other great friends to cancer;  Dina and Bobbi.  They will forever be missed.  Such amazing women.  And, as I type these words my dearest friend Rachael's Dad Joe is dying from brain cancer.  Never did a man want his family more than this man and he's being robbed and stripped from it.  It breaks my heart and it should not happen to this family or this man.  It shouldn't happen to anyone.  It shouldn't even happen to me. 

But, I'm not Job (read the story of Job in the Old Testament- if you haven't you're missing an amazing conversation between man and Maker in regard to the why's of life).  I will not question God.  I will accept my circumstances, but accept with a fierce determination to overcome.

Tomorrow will be a day won't it?  I will hear things I never, ever wanted to hear.  I will have to make decisions I never, ever wanted to make;  life preserving, life changing, life altering decisions.  Hopefully, and this is the operative word for my life, hopefully, it will go smoothly, nary a bump and I will come home with a plan of action and the light will present itself illuminating my path, making it straight, and allowing me the grace to navigate it.

So, here's to me Ree!  God speed my love, go, be well and conquer the world as He has conquered the world.

I will, and I shall. 

We all look off into the distance to find hope in the light. however,
I'm learning that hope lives in the heart today, at this moment,
while we're taking this turn.

We are bound only by our perceptions and beliefs, I know this,
however, some blows are harder to get over than others.
Returning to hope is the only answer.

Yoshi Mangasheito <3 <3 <3

It will be a year ago tomorrow that my little boy Mango left this dimension and moved onto the next.

As I type I am contemplating what to do with his ashes. I have had them the way they were given to me for almost a year now. I couldn't bare to think of not having Mango with me in some way. I had him since the day he was born until the day he died. I thought if I held onto him a little tighter that I could keep him closer. Turns out not so much.

I'm still crying for my friend, brother, son. He was never a pet to me. A brother? Yes, definitely. A friend? That goes without saying. My son? Well, yes. I've never had my own children and I raised him so...yes. My son.

It hurts me like losing a child. Still.

I can't believe it's a year already.

I remember every silly thing he used to do....like sitting at the table. He didn't go on top of the table. He didn't go under the table. He sat AT the table. Very civilized, my son.

And he was so social. He greeted everyone that came to the house.

And he fell in love with Rosie in the winter of his life.

And she fell in love with him. And then came Mohito. They all became fast friends and picked up each others habits. They were a tribe.....we were.


Yes we still are, but when one, just one member of your family is no longer in the mix it hurts. Sure there may be tens more around you, but you'll always be looking for the one that's not physically there.
Kiss someone you love today. Tell them.

Life is very, very short and love is a gift that we choose to give to one another. If someone has chosen to give you their love during this lifetime, give your love back. Kiss them. Hug them. Sacrifice for them. Show them how much you appreciate their love and energy. They don't have to give you their love....remember it's a choice. They give just as freely as you do. So give then....freely with no expectations.

The reward is a lifetime of love and memories that if you do it right the first time, you will not be left wanting. Well....just wanting more perhaps.

Mango, I hope I figure out what to do. As I look at this picture with you and the girls, I think I know. I hope so. In the meantime, I love you more than words can express I want to thank you for being my friend. xoxo Loving you always, Mom.

A Little Fun In The Sun

Last week my family and I spent some time together in the balmy, beautiful Florida weather.

Acting the fool and having so much fun.

This is my brother Tony and my husband Jimmy acting like gators, of course.

Me and Jimmy enjoying a gorgeous sunset.

Some of my tribe...

(From l. to r. - Bro-in-law Tommy, Niece Tori, Brother Tony, Nephew TJ, yours truly,

Step Mom Kathy, Daddy-O, Sister Debbie and Son Steven)

(Me & Stevie)

(me and sistermoonshine - cheers!)

My kids TJ and Tori.

Our trip was wonderful but too short. We laughed so hard we cried at times.

It is such a wonderful blessing getting together with family and sharing good times, good food, love and well - everything that life has to offer.

I can not wait to see them again.

My heart broke into pieces saying goodbye. I try to say see you later - but later always seems to take forever to come back around.

I thank God for all the blessings in my life. These are just some of the most important ones . . .

Christmas, etc.

I neglected to post these pictures of St. Mary's Basilica in Phoenix. It was such a special place. It's important to see.

And, I almost forgot the next one too.

Remember the old confessionals? I call them old I guess because I don't see them very often any more. The don't build them like they used to. This one is ominous looking isn't it? Makes my knees shake just looking at it.

Flash Back - My First Confession

I can see the space in between Father O'Reilly's two front teeth behind the mesh grating that was supposed to protect my identity. Paaallleeeezze. If I can see him - he can see me!!! Besides, everyone saw me go in the confessional and everyone saw me come out. There would be no secrets. The jig was up and I had to tell the priest all my sins. I remember barely getting the words out. 'Bless me Father for I have sinned. This is my first confession. These are my sins. I fought with my sister, I didn't clean my room and once, I lied'. Gulp!

Father O'Reilly smiled and handed out the standard penance of five Hail Mary's and two Our Father's. Whew. Piece of cake. It would be a few years yet before I'd have to do hard time staying behind to dust pews and clean the convent. LOL!

Jim's parents Carmella and Jim Sr. are a lot of fun especially around Christmas time. (Jim's Dad looks a little like Santa in this picture - yeah, Mr. & Mrs. Kringle teeheehee).

For the past thirteen years Carmella has made a huge fish feast for the family on Christmas Eve and Jim Sr. hasn't missed a beat. On Christmas morning, he cooks a great prosciutto, egg, potato, bacon, sausage, toast, coffee and juice feast. He never cooks so this is special. I absolutely love the tradition. This year we had the added bonus of going to hear the men's choir at St. Lucy's Church in Newark. Jim's been threatening to sing with the choir and we think we saw his lips move once - but we're not sure. We thoroughly enjoyed midnight mass together. Who knows? Maybe a new family tradition is starting? As for the choir, I should've video taped some of it - but hey - it was late - we did have a little wine with the fish feast, I was lucky to get this shot with Jim's phone - the perspective is from the upstairs choir room. Pretty huh?

BTW, Jim's parents are still married - to each other. No really. They still live in the same house that Jimmy grew up in. I think they've been married for almost fifty years. That's incredible.

Then it was off to my Dad's for a little Christmas day celebration.

I don't remember laughing harder than when my brother Tony gave my Dad this jacket. My Dad absolutely loathed it! Check out the videos below. The lighting isn't that great, but they're hysterical.

Dad's Jacket Part I

Dad, you look so comfy in your new jacket. I bet as I type these words that jacket has already been returned and/or exchanged. Thank God for the video tape.

And, who is that guy sitting next to my husband? Oh yeah, brother-stunt-man Tony showed up with his new Madison dye-do! I'm not sure Tony, but I think we were thinking Madison dye-don't. Otherwise people might think you're under suspicion...not that there's anything wrong with that.

Which one is Toshie and which one is Buscie??

Okay, last video. Isn't it great making fun of your parents? Tony started it. Ha!

Thankful for Nuts

In my haste, I forgot the nuts for our Thanksgiving celebration. You know the bowl of mixed nuts you always have around this time of year? It just isn't Thanksgiving without nuts, right?


Well, I had forgotten them and wasn't planning another trip to the store, so for us it would be no nuts. I started to prepare the appy's and realized we were missing provolone too....sooooo, out the door he went on Thanksgiving morning to find provolone. Jimmy had to have provolone. And would you believe he picked up some nuts too?

That was sweet. Jim always does stuff like that. Just when you think they're not paying attention.

That was my first thought.

Then, we had our Thanksgiving dinner.

I started to see another side of Jimmy and my family members.

I started to think there was some kind of nutty conspiracy going on.

Well, you'll have to decide. I took some very choice video of our family sitting around our humble, meek and beautiful desert table.

There were more varieties of nuts at that table than you can imagine. There were also a few missing. You know who you are. We love you and we miss you and we're ever so thankful for you. Can not wait to be together soon. But, in the meantime, enjoy this and happy thanksgiving you frickin' nuts : D xoxo

A Capsule in Time

Our friends are flying in from North Carolina as I type but I HAD to get this posted.

It's not like I have the time, but I have the will.

So far, the computer gremlins are still sleeping so it looks like I may get this done.

I recently found our family's old home movies that our Poppy put together.

Thank God Poppy had the foresight and the technical savvy to pull this off.

He took videos where ever we were growing up; birthdays, communions, Thanksgivings, etc. Any family function just about and Poppy was there with his camera.

The downside? Really the wasn't one.

Sure the light on the top of the camera would burn your retina faster than you can say cheese - but we tolerated it and I'm glad we did.

The video tape is a couple of hours long. It's precious and I cried like a baby at my most recent viewing and then I thought . . . I've got to video blog about this.

Thanksgiving is coming up and November has always been a sad month for this family as it seems that most of us cross over around this time of year...I don't think we much like the winter.

To my family (here and there) I say, I will always love you and I am proud to be yours.

And to you, whoever you may be, I hope you enjoy this small video capsule in time of my family back 'in the day'.

P.S. I'm the little one flitting about ... I was a pretty happy kid. Still am.

Grandmother Violet's short visit

Okay, I need to take a break from my finger.

My late Grandmother Violet came to me in my dreams last night.

She kissed me and hugged me expressing how much she loved me and missed me.

It was so real.

I could feel her.

The feeling was so strong.

I woke up with such a happy feeling of belonging and being loved so very much. It was a very precious dream. Or was it?