I Am A Traditionalist - Wrapping Up 2012

Well, Christmas 2012 is past.  I found myself resisting entering the season...feeling a bit like a small child who digs her feet in when her parent is trying to gently pull her toward something she is dreading.  How would we experience the first Christmas without my mother's presence?  Fortunately, when you have traditions, it is easier.  I just put myself in the right place at the right time and let go... allowing the momentum of memory and habit guide me.  Everything went smoothly and we did it!

Christmas Eve was held at my mother's home where those family members who could, gathered for a traditional meal and exchange of gifts. It was not exactly the same as in past years.  The house was set up a little differently, with small intimate eating spaces for 4 to 6 people rather than one long center table;

Mike, Milli and Gabriel with Uncle Chuck

 tamales and enchiladas added to the buffet spread alongside the pasta and antipasto.  The new presence of Blanca, my sister, Cathy's, caregiver and housemate, and her mother and daughter, expanded  our family mix.  After the gift exchange, we took turns selecting one of my mother's awards or mementos as a keepsake.

Fred selecting Mom's Habitate for Humanity Appreciation Plaque

In all, it was a very pleasant evening, a few tears, lots of laughter and the comfort of being together.

Christmas Day was quiet until my immediate family arrived for our traditional evening meal. Jay helped me prepare for the Family dinner.

Joe and Nik drove in from the hinterlands.

Mike, Milli and Gabe were there.  It was not exactly the same as in past year as we had the addition of Marc's fiancée, Charlotte.

 After eating and opening gifts, we reflected on the past year.  We watched the narrated photo DVD I create for Gabriel each year.

Gabe with his 2012 DVD

 We mentioned the lows we experienced...the deaths, the job losses, the health challenges.  And we mentioned the highs we enjoyed...the new relationships, the new life opportunities, the fun times.  We reveled in the fact that through it all, we hung together as a family.  We were there for each other.  We ended the evening resurrecting one more tradition, the writing of our "Hopes and Dreams" for the coming year.  We each had a sealed envelope of past years' lists and a blank sheet of paper to write items for next year.  After reflecting on the "old" lists, we faced the prospect of the new year knowing it is a blank slate.

We anticipate some happy events: a wedding, a new business, a growing new career, a new school, a new neighborhood, a trip to new places and we know that there are other unanticipated events also waiting for us in the future.  But at the end of the evening, I felt fine.  Actually, I felt more than fine...I felt full and confident.  Full of the gratitude for all that my life holds and confident of my ability to navigate whatever lies ahead.  So I bid a farewell to 2012 and face forward into 2013.

I Am An Elder - Creating a Legacy

This is my first Christmas without my mother.  As I move closer to Christmas Eve and Christmas Day I find myself thinking about the traditions that have evolved over the years and dwelling on past Christmases.  Every year the two weeks prior to Christmas were spent planning and baking the Christmas Cookies.  Last week I sent a message to my sons asking for cookie requests and the reply back from Marc was "I am surprised you had to ask!  Pizzelle, biscotti, cannoli and oh, yes, Peanut Butter and Candy Kisses."  In the past, I made some of the cookies and my mother made others and then we shared.  This year, the task is mine alone.

As I reached for the recipes in my cupboard I pulled out my mother's cookbook.  When she entered her 90's I urged her to leave us a legacy...leave us the kernals of her life...leave us part of her to continue to hold on to.  Each year I would help her with a project so that she could "gift us with part of her legacy."  One year I interviewed her for hours on end about the key events in her life, recording her voice on a digital voice recorder and then creating a set of 7 audio CDs that she gave as her Christmas gift to each of us.

2005 Interviewing Mom for her Biographical CDs.

One year we created a cookbook of her family recipes, each recipe containing the story of how it came to be.

She composed a letter to us that is inside the first page and each book is signed in her shaky hand, Love, Mom.  The last line of the letter says, "Think of me when you prepare them and know how much I love you."

So this year I will make the pizzelle

and when I make the cannoli I will remember making them with her...and I will remember how much she loved me.

As I put the ingredients out on the counter to make the soft biscotti, I find myself wondering what kind of a legacy I am leaving for my children.  I wonder what they will remember of me.  Will they remember the moments in my life when I was not my best, when I might have disappointed them...the things I regret in the middle of the night?  Or will they remember the times when we shared happy life events, when I was so proud of them?  Will they know how central they were to my life and how much joy they gave me?  My mother was a feisty woman...she was strong-willed, she could be stubborn, and at times we butted heads.  But what I remember about her are the good times, the bond that was always so strong, no matter what emotion surrounded us.  I remember her spirit...how fully alive she was and how animated she became when she was surrounded by her family and friends.

I have not gifted my children with concrete items of legacy.  I have not created audio CDs of my life but I have created this blog.  Will this be part of my legacy?  I wonder what happens to blogs after the blogger passes on?  I have printed out all of my posts and they are on my bookshelf in distinctive blue folders.

 Hopefully, my children will recognize them!

I Am A Mover - The Journey to Acton

They say….”Life is a journey, not a destination.” Sometimes, when you are on the road, looking ahead to the future, what you see is a fog bank.  You move forward, enter it, and feel lost.  You don’t know what lies within it.  It can be scary!  But, usually, if you look into your rear view mirror, to where you have been, you can see that you were always on a path.  One life event led to another, and then to another, and here you are…in your present.  And you are doing fine!

This past weekend, we participated in my oldest son, Joe’s, journey.  A little over a month ago, he entered a fog bank.  Thanks to the economy and the changes in his industry, Joe’s job went away.  He faced the future, not knowing how he should proceed nor what he would encounter.  After great thought and discussion with significant people in his life, he made a choice.  He saw an opportunity to enter a new door, to pursue something that seemed very core to who he is.  

Joe is a writer.  All his life he has had an innate ability to connect with himself and with the world through words and his ability to place those words on paper.  Though the work that paid his rent was not involved with writing, he found other outlets for his talent through freelance work, blogging, writing song lyrics.  He eventually “certified” his talent by earning a degree in Journalism.  Now, life had detached all the “ties that bind” and was offering him an opportunity to try to join his livelihood with his talent and passion.  With his close friend, Drew, Joe has some irons in the fire and to facilitate these projects, he decided to leave the San Diego, where he has lived for the past 17 years, and start anew in the small town three hours distance up the state called Acton.

This weekend was the move and Jay and I drove to San Diego Friday night to assist him with the logistics of getting his car, a UHaul filled with all his worldly goods and his two dogs to his new home.  I was so impressed with how organized and smoothly everything went.  Joe also writes To-do lists.  Everything was anticipated and accomplished. 

Load truck, check. 

Joe had loaded the entire truck himself!

Write out directions for Mom and Jay, check. 

Say good-by to neighbors, check.  

Joy walks this street everyday and she wished him luck!

Spend last evening with friends, check.

Joe with two of the many friends that turned out to wish him luck!

Joe walking with Princess Kayia, who dressed up especially for the party!

We drove in a caravan, following the route that Joe had mapped out, stopping once for the weight station and once for some nourishment,

Jay and Joe enjoying their subs...one Italian and one Veggie!

and eventually pulled into his new home. 

Joe has a 2 bedroom second floor condo.

The apartment looked perfect and the absence of the city sounds created an atmosphere of calm.

Joe seemed right at home surrounded by the beautiful high desert and 

On his balcony surrounded by the mountains of the high desert!

The dogs were excited at room to run.  

My second son, Michael, joined us from LA to help his brother with the muscle work and we quickly had the truck emptied.

Jay, Joe and Michael discussing the strategy!

On the way home I reflected on my role as mother.  It is not easy to detach in a healthy way from your children.  I want a future of happiness for each one of them.  But I know that I cannot be the one to provide it.  I let go and give them their life.  And every once in a while they give me that most precious gift, of allowing me to share in their life…even if it is only driving the sweep vehicle in the caravan and carrying the light weight boxes into the new house. 

So, I stand in the wings and wish them well as I watch them enter the fog bank, with my heart caught in my throat, trusting that they are remaining on that path that is their life’s journey.  That they are right where they are supposed to be.

  Good luck, Joe, on this next chapter.

I Am A Reader - Having a Favorite Spot

I love to read.  In fact, I can never remember not being able to read.  I have loved libraries since childhood and possess library cards to 5 different libraries.  When traveling, visits to the local bookstores are always on the itinerary.  There is always at least one book title on my Christmas wish list.  I often have 3 or 4 books in progress and as I reach the end of an especially enjoyable one I have mixed feelings…not wanting it to end and yet, eager to venture into another book waiting on my to-be-read pile.  I have always felt there were two kinds of people in the world: those who read the backs of cereal boxes as they eat their breakfast and those who don’t.  I do.  From the time I was a small child, I have loved to bury my nose in a book and get lost in a fictional setting.  I also enjoy non-fiction but truth be told, I love a good story.

Jay and I live in a small home just a few blocks from the beach.  It would be listed as a three bedroom house, but we only use one room as a bedroom.  The second is our office and the third and smallest one is our “sunroom” named such because in the afternoon, as the sun is moving across the sky to sink into the ocean, it sheds wonderful light through the sliding glass doors and creates a sense of warmth and comfort.  One wall is filled with three bookcases that hold our favorite books…those that we cannot part with.  There is a love seat that opens into a single sized bed so when we have an overnight visitor, it becomes a guest room.  And it has a rocking chair.

I can read anyplace…in a doctor’s waiting room, in a moving car, on the couch in the living room, at my desk in the office, in bed at night.  But when I want to have a special treat, when I really want to settle into my book, I go to the rocker in the sunroom.  

My rocker is old and creaky.  I bought it when my first son was born.  Over the years this rocker has welcomed me.  When I couldn't sleep at night because of a head cold or a whirling agitated mind, I would sit under an afghan in the rocker and sooth myself.  When babies could not go to sleep, it was here I sat while singing soft melodies until they finally dozed off.   I remember rocking my children and grandchildren in it until their legs had grown so long they dangled off the sides.  The joints are not as tight as they used to be and over the years it has developed a comforting creak.  I remember one time while I was rocking a grandchild, my youngest son, Marc (then a young man) said if he closed his eyes, the sound of the rocker brought him back to the days when he was the child in my lap.  

How do you put a price tag on the things that assume such value in your life?  How do you explain the emotional attachment that makes an inanimate object something that contains part of the pulse of your life experience.  I laugh to myself when I imagine attempting to evacuate my house in an emergency, only able to take my most precious belongings out the door with me, and trying to managing getting the rocker out the front door and down the many front steps in a hurry!

So, the book on the rocker is the novel I began today...in the rocker...in the sunroom: The Unlikely Pilgrimage Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce.

I Am A Student of Nature - Autumnal Lessons

The other day my friend, Adadot, posted a picture of the tree in her backyard, a lovely tree filled with gold and red leaves signally the change of seasons in her neck of the woods.  

It reminded me of the years when I grew up in the Midwest.  Memories of walking to football games in the crisp evenings with the sound of crunching leaves underfoot, putting away the summer lawn furniture, taking out the heavy coats and sweaters.  At first I felt some regret at living in our Pacific Coast California paradise because we do not have a change of seasons.  But then I realized that I was not being truthful…we do have seasonal changes.  They may not be as dramatic as what occurs in other areas of the United States but things change, the pace of life slows, we pull in, hunker down, go within, contemplate, replenish, and wait for a sense of rebirth when spring arrives.

Yesterday a cold front arrived in Los Angeles bringing with it cooler temperatures, overcast skies and threatening rain.  We turned up the thermostat and prayed the furnace would remember how to ignite.  And I went to the pantry to prepare an appropriate meal…something substantial, comforting,  that would warm us on the inside as well. Maybe a nourishing soup.   I reached for my package of dry split peas.

My grandmother loved to cook with dry legumes.  Pasta Fagiole was a familiar winter dish.  It was considered poor people’s food because often it was meatless…just beans, some vegetables, a little pasta and broth.  Over the years I have expanded my repertoire to include other legumes like split peas.  This go-to recipe is a favorite.

Hearty Split Pea Soup with a Surprise

In a few tablespoons of olive oil, I sauté two large chopped carrots, two stalks of chopped celery (with leaves if possible) and one large diced onion, until soft.  Then I add 3 chopped cloves of garlic, some red pepper flakes, a sprig of rosemary, a couple sprigs of thyme and 4 large sage leaves from the garden and a couple of bay leaves.  I mix it all together, add the pound of dry split peas, and then 6 cups of liquid.  I usually use canned chicken broth, but any broth or even just water could be used.

I bring it to a boil and scoop out any foam that may begin to accumulate on the top and then lower the heat and let it simmer, covered for one hour.  I check it frequently to see if it needs more liquid and stir it around a bit.  I watch as the peas begin to soften and wait until it is very soft. Sometimes it reaches this point in an hour…sometimes it takes as much as 30 minutes longer.  Some people like to puree the soup at this point, but I do not.  We like it hearty and kind of chunky.  I taste it and season it with salt and pepper, and let it cook slowly for another 10 minutes or so. Then I add my “surprise”…about 1 cup of frozen sweet peas…just dumped into the hot soup.  I let it sit covered for a few minutes and the peas thaw and warm in the hot soup.  This is a vegetarian dish but the split peas can also be cooked with a smoked ham hock or with sautéed diced pancetta or bacon or ham for meat lovers.

I serve it with grated Italian cheese, a drizzle of olive oil, and accompanied by slices of Italian bread toasted in a skillet with a little olive oil and sprinkled with salt. 

Today I ventured outside between rain showers and looked at the garden.  Growth is stilled and nature has entered a time of rest and renewal. It feels calm and right.  The days are shorter and everything is telling me to enter into this autumnal time…to rest, to replenish, to slow down, to lose myself in the stillness or maybe a good book and eat a bowl of soup!

So….tonight we will have the left-overs! 

I Am A Grateful Person - Approaching Thanksgiving

There is a serendipity about life.  Inspiration comes from various places.  This morning in my cyberspace wanderings I came upon this quote that gave me pause:

Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.
―Frederick Buechner

Today, after a quick run to the Farmers' Market, I will spend most of my day in the kitchen.  Tomorrow, Jay and I will go to my son's home to share in a Thanksgiving buffet with members of our family and Milli's family.  So this afternoon I will prepare my contributions to the feast.  And as my hands, my fingers, are engaged in my chopping, kneading, sauteing I know that my mind will be just as busy working the thoughts of remembrance which is what this holiday seems to trigger in me.  I will recall the past year, all that has occurred in my life since our last Thanksgiving.  I will recall the faces of the all the people I hold dear.  I will recall the times that filled my heart with joy: Jay, his presence, his head next to mine on the pillow, his consistently bringing me my morning cup of coffee; the radiance of Gabriel at all of his school events, his hockey games, his sleep-overs; my regular walks and heart talks with my friend, Cindy; the satisfaction of learning knew skills, conquering a new computer, knitting a new pattern; little jaunts like our week in Napa shared with Jayne;  the family dinners around my kitchen table with my children; the reconnection with old, dear friends like Julie and Theresa. 

I will also recall those moments that filled my heart with pain, those times when I thought my heart would literally break like the recent death of my mother. The times when someone I loved was ill or facing the loss of a job or overcome with loneliness or depression or struggling with decisions about an elderly parent. The times when I felt so powerless to change what life was presenting.

This past week I was gifted with a moment of joy when my youngest son, Marc, asked his love, Charlotte, to be his wife.  This son has waited a long time to take this step.  I think all parents really want in life for their children is their happiness.  I am fortunate in that I have grown very fond of the woman who has captured his heart.  Charlotte has a beautiful warm spirit that draws you in.  As for Marc,  my heart filled as I watched his face and his excitement. I love who Marc is when he is with Charlotte.

Congratulations to Marc and Charlotte!!

The Italians have a lovely phrase for events like this...those moments when your heart fills, moments where there are no words. They say "È una bella cosa!"  It is a thing of beauty!

Italians are also known to have a sense of fatalism...that little gene that during the beautiful times continues to whisper in my ear, "Be alert, be ready, because this will not last forever and the difficult times might be just around the corner."

I know there is an ebb and flow to life and I know that I am powerless to effect how or when things will occur.  In my life's journey I am continuing to learn that all I can do is show up and try to be 100% present to life in the moment and to trust that this too will pass, the beautiful and the terrible,  and all things will move toward ultimate good.  Today, I am grateful!

I Am A Supporter - Visiting Homeboy Industries

Why is it that as life is progressing forward, it can feel so random and chaotic, but when viewed in the rearview mirror, there is an obvious path visible?  Over 30 years ago, when my sons were in Loyola High School, we met one of their teachers, a young scholastic who was studying to become a Jesuit priest...Mr. Boyle.  Greg became a mentor to the boys and a friend of the family.  Over the years we have stayed in touch and followed his path as he continued to make the world a better place and consistently share the message of Jesus as he understood it.  He went from high school teacher, to parish pastor, to founder of Homeboy Industries, choosing to spend his life helping young people who were caught up in gang life and willing...change their lives.

Last week, we were invited by our friend, Pat, to join a group of her friends in a tour of Homeboy Industries.  This group has formed with the purpose of bringing more compassion into our world and through reading, discussion and action, are trying to make a difference.  While we have watched the growth of Homeboys and have supported their efforts financially, we had never actually set foot inside their doors so we were eager to join them.

First of all the entire building is impressive...a huge complex that houses the answer to every need that any former gang member would have as they attempted to exit their gang life and enter a new life's path.  It would take volumes to share all the details of this amazing operation, but the photos I took of our visit will give a small sense of this reality.

We were greeted right on the time of our appointment and Francesco became our host/guide for the day.

We started outside where he gave us a brief history of Homeboys and showed us the garden where the cooks for the Homegirl Cafe grow their own herbs while also sharing his personal story of how he came to Homeboys.

He initially came for the free tattoo removal offered to anyone who wanted it

and while there, Fr. Greg stopped him and asked him if he would like a job...the condition being that he leave the gang, get off drugs and be able to pass frequent and random drug tests.  His path was not straight, he had some dips and turns, but there he was talking to us, proudly sharing Homeboys and his hopes for his future.

Homeboys started small...Fr. Greg working to find jobs for those caught in the web of gang life believing that "Nothing Stops a Bullet Like a Job!"

Over the years they created a silk screening shop where the graphic art talents of the youth could be put to good use.

They created a bakery that makes and delivers breads and pastries to customers, shops and various Farmers' Markets.

Gradually they built a huge network of volunteers and employees who offer counseling, parenting skills, anger management, drug rehabilitation, computer skills, job interviewing skills and coaching, employment assistance, housing assistance, job referrals, and two classrooms always filled with a variety of classes.

Realizing the need to young girls to also be included in this outreach, the Homegirl Cafe was opened where women develop the skills necessary to work in a restaurant environment while building their own self-esteem.

Each day at Homeboys begins with a Morning Meeting held in their lobby.  Here are the main offices, a shrine to fallen Homeboys, and the receptionist.

Part of the morning is a "Thought for the Day" given by one of the staff, and sometimes by Fr. Greg.  This can be seen on Youtube or at the Homeboys website.

The path from the life of the gang to a healthy productive life with a future that hopefully doesn't include a bullet is not easy.  Often it is just a small need that can be the stonewall that prevents someone from moving forward.  Fr. Greg has tried to answer each of those needs in this enterprise and all in an environment that conveys the message that no matter what, you are just what God intended and you are GOOD!  You can not be exposed to this message without wanting to joining hands and become a part of this community.  It is easy to do.  It can be as simple as buying a copy of Fr. Greg's recent book, "Tattoos On The Heart,"

buying Homeboys chips and salsa now carried at all Ralph's markets, stopping in at the Homegirl Cafe for brunch, sending a check to be used as they need.  They are also always in need of willing people with special skills to donate their time and presence.  Right now they are in need of psychologists and counselors.

After the tour we treated ourselves to lunch at Homegirl Cafe.

We left the day with busy heads, full of thoughts about how a generous, compassionate heart can make a difference and with open hearts, filled with the love and hope that exists within the walls of Homeboy Industries.