I Am A Blessed Woman - Life in 2018

It has been months since I have posted a blog.  I guess that means I "have a life!"  The other day Charlotte told me that she laughs when someone will comment on how nice it is for her to have a mother-in-love who is so available to her to help out with the kids. She said they think I am just sitting around the house waiting for her to call.  She told them she has to calendar her needs in advance so they get on my calendar!

As December 31st approaches, I consider how fortunate Jay and I are to have such a rich life...rich in people we love, good friends, good health, stimulating activities and beautiful setting in Southern California.  Here are the highlights of the year for us and for our family.

This year:

Jay and I traveled... to Seattle, Montreal, Quebec, Athens and the Greek Isles.

I stopped coloring my hair and claimed my natural color.

Gabriel made a touchdown!

Jessie started attending Annie’s Newport Academy at Phases.

Joe continued to grow his dog-boarding business in Acton with a special emphasis on dog rescue.

Marc continued to grow his business with new clients (Indian Motorcycle), moved to new quarters and traveled to Germany and Italy for clients.

Mike is in his 24^th season working with the LA Kings/AEG and received a promotion to Vice President, Marketing, Communications and Content.

Gabriel got his driver’s license.

I started training to be a Los Serreno Docent at the PV Interpretive Center.

Gino transitioned to a Montessori Preschool.

I attended Michelle Obama’s Book Tour “Becoming” with Milli and Charlotte.

Had “Mondays with Mima” every week with Gino and Jessie.

We acquired a Chinese Grandson when Phoenix arrived as a foreign exchange student to Mike and Milli’s.

I rode on the Goodyear Blimp with my brother, Fred.

Jay bought new golf clubs!

I made seat-covers for our golf cart.

Walked and talked regularly with my BFF Cindy.  Better than the best therapist!! She keeps me honest.

We attended Water Aerobic classes

Jay and I finally took care of our "last wishes" and made our cremation arrangements!

Gabriel had his first “hockey fight” and received a 2 game suspension.

Attended Grandparents Day with Gabriel and Phoenix.

I joined a Writers' Group.

We participated in Omnilore classes and the Omnilore Curriculum committee.

I knit 15 items.

I read 70 Books and continued to participate in our Best Sellers' Book Group.

So I would say we squeezed every ounce of goodness, happiness and love out of our 365 days while making a real effort to only focusing on the positive and sweeping away the negative. (Yes, there was negative too!)  Thank you to all of you who are part of the fabric of our lives. 

I am a blessed woman!

I AM A Gardener - Yes, We Have No Tomatoes

August…sun…heat…TOMATOES!

If you are of Italian heritage, of course you have an “orto” (kitchen garden), and of course you grow vegetables, and of course one of those vegetables is the tomato.  Looking back over the years, my life story is "peppered" with tomato memories.

My dad was the gardener in our family and he took great pride in his tomatoes.  

My dad, circa 1958 - Isn't he proud!!

They often did not make it into the kitchen.  He would pick the tomato, wash it off with the garden hose, and hand it to me like an apple. “Here, take a bite of THIS!”  And I would…bite deeply into the red flesh, feeling the juices still warm from the sun, running down my chin.  

We often ate tomato sandwiches.  Bread, a little mayo, sliced tomatoes, sliced onion and a piece of lettuce.  Who needed baloney when you had ripe tomatoes?  

And the excess harvest?  Well a whole day was devoted to canning in the basement and its aroma would permeate the entire house.  Tomatoes were peeled, simmered with some seasoning, placed in sterile canning jars and stored for the winter months.

When I was a young mother and we bought our first house, one fine day in May my dad arrived at my house with a shovel, some fertilizer and tomato plants.  He spent the afternoon digging a small garden against the back wall where he planted my tomatoes.  There…now the house was complete.  I tended them as I was taught but it was Dad I called if I ever saw a fat juicy tomato worm!

One of the many advantages of living at Palos Verdes Shores community is the opportunity to have a plot in our community garden.  Though I have to endure the local wildlife of birds, squirrels, gophers and raccoons competing for the harvest, it still affords me the pleasure of growing tomatoes.  

My solar activate sonic gopher repellent that seems to be working!

Gino and Jessie love to go down to the garden to “help” me.  

"I can help you, Mima! Let me do it!"

This year we purchased 7 plants from Laurel's Heirloom Tomato Plants in Lomita.

Jay does the dig and carry!

All planted!

 I have spent the last few weeks reaping what I have sown!  

Just one day's pickings!

Some ripening on the window sill.

In addition to making some favorite seasonal recipes and freezing fresh sauce for winter months I have had the joy of sharing some of the bounty with neighbors and grounds keepers.

Ahhh - gazpacho!

Fresh tomato salad.

Both sets of grandparents had “orto”s so it is very natural for me to follow suit.  They didn’t spend time worrying about a lovely manicured lawn.  To them, it made no sense to spend your time, money and energy in growing something you could not eat!   

It is only now, in my golden years, that I am beginning to grow something other than vegetables and I take delight in watching the Monarch butterflies circling my glorious milkweed bushes. 

My milkweed in full bloom.

A visiting Monarch butterfly.

Gino looks for caterpillars every time he comes over!  I hope this one sticks around long enough for him to see it!

And...a monarch caterpillar that we are praying makes it into a cocoon.

And the cycle of life continues.....

I Am A Grandmother - Sickened By Today's News

This morning I picked up the LA Times and the Wall Street Journal to see what was happening in the world.  (Yes, we still have paper subscriptions delivered to our home!)  My heart was full as I sipped my coffee and turned the pages.  Jay and I had just spent last evening baby-sitting with Gino, aged 3 ½, and Jessie, aged 21 months, while their parents attended a wedding.  Experiencing their happy, animated antics is such a joy for us and we are grateful they are in our lives.  Their spontaneity and innocence remind us the beauty of life and what is important…just being together with them and letting them love us. 

On page 1 of the LA Times I saw this picture, of a father embracing his 6 yr. old son, who stared vacantly over his shoulder. 

As I read, I sat up straighter and put down my coffee cup, and read … “Father and son reunite…  Jefferson…a playful boy who loved racing tiny cars across the dirt floor of his Guatemala home, stood stiff, staring vacantly at the gray carpet, then at his father…  The boy remained stiff and expressionless.  His arms, stomach and back were covered with a rash.  His right eye was bruised red.  He had a cough and a runny nose.  Jefferson had been held in a detention shelter … in New York.  He had spoken to his father 3 times in 46 days.  ‘Papa, I thought they killed you’ , he told his father. ”  My stomach twisted.

Then on page A3 of the Wall Street Journal, a photo of a migrant family with a little boy, the same age as Gino, with black curly hair stared out at me.  

I read… “Father and son were separated three months ago…the boy was sent to an agency in Michigan…  Mr. Reyes said his son isn’t the same.  He doesn’t speak much.  He wants to be close to his father and worries every time he steps away.  Inside, he carries like a sadness.”  Dr. Havens, a NY psychiatrist for children is quoted in testimony. “Most children are resilient.  But there is a subset who have a significant disorder associated with the trauma of separation.  (They) appear confused or don’t recognize a parent upon reunification. For parents to have to go through sort of reacclimatizing themselves to their children is just horrific.”

I closed the paper and just sat there.  Thoughts raced through my mind.  What have we come to?  No amount of legal discourse, no amount of citing legalities, nothing in my mind can justify adults taking such steps to enforce whatever laws and in the process damage innocent children who are victims of the decisions of others.  We are better than that.  

Memories of the little faces that turned to me in such open, naked trust last night fill my mind.  It is such a privilege to be entrusted with my grandchildren.  My hope is that the love, security and guidance I am allowed to share with them will contribute to their developing into confident, secure and fully alive little individuals.  Such an honor and such a responsibility.

I feel ashamed as I read the news.  I am ashamed.

Those who would lead our judicial systems, enforce our laws, often do so with a sense of religious righteousness.  Yet, I recall the Bible verse:  Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to stumble, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be thrown into the sea. 

Where can I get my hands on some millstones!

I Am ALMOST A Silver Fox - Going Gray

How wonderful is the human psyche!!!  Thoughout my life, when I have thought of some potentially difficult, anticipated time in my future, I have wondered how I would be able to “deal with” it.  And yet, when the time came, something inside me had shifted and I discovered that I was ready for this new event.  I especially think of this now as I am in the later phases of my life and many of those future events have arrived and are my new present.

One of those future events was knowing when the time was right to “give up the bottle,” to stop my monthly appointment with Sebastian, to have him carefully apply color #12 to hide my roots and keep my crowning glory a lovely, luxurious brunette.  For the last couple of years the thought would fleetingly cross my mind, but I would say, “No, not yet!”  I would ask Jay for his opinion and he would say, “No, not yet!”  Were we both trying to hold back time?  I was hesitant because the image I hold of myself in my mind’s eye is of a vibrant, alive, 40 year old woman.  

I was not yet ready to be elderly.  I did not want to be seen as elderly and I did not want to be treated as elderly.  And, I guess Jay didn’t want to think he had an elderly wife!

But as time has passed, I am reminded each morning that the woman I see in the mirror is not 40 years old.  I have fine wrinkle lines on my cheeks that remind me of  my mother.  The skin is no longer tight and elastic, but is soft and “squishy” (to quote Gino). My complexion is varied and dotted with occasional age spots.  And the graying roots of my hair are outlining my face.  I am trying to get to know this woman.  

When I sit quietly with her and take a simple internal inventory, I discover that this woman is in a good place.  She is content with her life.  She is no longer running on a treadmill, trying to prove herself worthy, trying to please everyone, trying to control the world.  She is at peace and grateful for all the good in her life.  She worries much less.  She knows she is loved by those who are important to her and she is happy.  I can see this in her face when I look at her in the mirror.  She is ready to embrace her natural hair.  At least, she is ready to try.

So a month ago, I had Sebastian just cut and blow dry my hair.  He is not quite sure I am ready, but he is being supportive.  Jay says, “Go for it!”  My sons say since they currently have more gray hair showing than I do that it would balance the scales if their mom was also gray.  My daughters assure me that I am not loved for my hair but for my heart.  So I will see how it goes.  I don’t know what my natural hair will look like.  Who knows, maybe I will be a Silver Fox!

It has been one month since I began this “going gray journey!”  The passage has been interesting.  Each day, as I checked in the mirror, I saw a little more gray and instead of making me feel older, it made me feel energized…happy…authentic…as if I was “claiming” myself.  

I would catch Jay looking at me and ask, “Do you feel like you are sitting next to your mother?”  He would laugh and say, “No, in fact, I like it!”

Here are my before and after (first haircut) pictures:  By the next haircut, all the colored “highlights” should be gone.  

The only concern I am still holding on to is the reaction of Gino and Jessie, who have not seen it yet.  They notice every little thing.  Once after I washed my face (and was minus my “enhanced” eyebrows) Gino asked, “What happened to your face?  Why is it a new face?”  

What is my lesson in this?  I guess it is to trust in life.  To just show up for it and let it happen.  There are still some potentially difficult, anticipated times in my future.  I can try to prepare but I can also hold on to the knowledge that when the time comes, I will be able to handle it.

Stay tuned…

I Am A Grandmother - A Weekend with Mima

It is 6:30 am.  I listen and the house is so quiet.  There is no music from Peppa Pig playing on the TV.  There are no little voices screeching, “Mima, Mima,” “No Jessie!”  “Mine!” “Let’s go outside,” “Panda Cookies, please,”  “read a book,”  “tickle me,” “chase me,” “Sing ABCs,” “Strawberries,”  “I do it myself!” I lie quietly and feel so alone.  There are no little feet pushing into my side.  There is no little body pushed against my tummy.  I open my eyes and there are no two sets of big brown eyes staring at me.  The children have gone home.

I have just survived 42 continuous hours caring for Gino and Jessie. Their mother, a 24/7 mom, an Amazon Woman who never stops, finally had the opportunity to have a weekend to herself, to fly off to Monterey to attend the college graduation of a dear friend’s daughter.  Their father, who was to have been on a business trip, was home nursing a physical ailment.  I was asked and gleefully accepted to care for my two grandchildren.  No problem, I have raised three children, I can do this!

I now understand why we are fertile only when we are young.  I begin to think that my body may actually have an expiration date.  Being the fulltime caregiver of 2 toddlers is an extremely taxing responsibility and yet, one that fills all the cracks and crevices in a psyche.  While their attention spans last about 3 minutes, I seem to go from pillar to post in an attempt to keep them occupied.

We went for walks,

we went for rides, 

we visited Bump at the golf course and got cookies from Kate.  

We visited the neighborhood dogs and watered the plants in the garden.  

We played with Play Dough 

and navigated Youtube for Kids for videos on the tablet, 

we worked puzzles.  

We ate  strawberries,

               eggs, 

chicken, Panda Cookies, hotdogs with ketchup, Panda Cookies, Big Bird Bars, 

Pizza, 

pasta, Panda Cookies,                              ice cream, 

cupcakes, and.... Panda Cookies.  

We looked for boats on the ocean.  We read books, we sang songs, we played Zingo.

I even imported some help in the form of cousin, Gabriel, who helped keep Gino occupied by building Legos and talking about Super Heroes. 

Both toddlers are talkers and the day is filled with “why?”  At times I cannot understand what Jessie is saying as she speaks to me with her eyes wide open and a little smile on her face.  I turn to my translator, Gino, and ask, “What is your sister saying?”  Jessie turns to him and repeats what she has said.  He turns to me and says, “She says she wants to sing ‘wheels on the bus.’”

The house looks like a train wreck.  Jay tries to pick up the trail of toys but I tell him to just leave it be.  The toys will back on the floor in two minutes.  Jay plays fetch and carry, bringing me their water, a tissue, some more Panda Cookies from the storeroom.  We look at each other over their little heads and exchange a nod of understanding and support.

As the day wears on and they become tired, we put on pajamas, we brush our teeth, we get our blankets, and we sit in the rocker…one child on each leg…and after negotiating which song we will sing first (of course they each want a different song!) we begin to rock and close our eyes.  

The next trick is navigating two sleeping bodies to the bed.  They co-sleep as a family so I get to spend the next 8 hours sleeping with two little bodies pressed up against me.  I lie there and feel their little chests rise and fall with each breath. I look at them and see their perfect little faces still at last and I am filled with a sense of wonder and a feeling of fierce love.

It is Sunday around noon and their father comes to pick them up.  They have had a bath, their hair is brushed, their clothes are packed in the suitcase, their snacks in the snack bag, their toys in the toy bag.  They give me hugs good-by and pull out of the driveway with Daddy, eager to see Mommy who will be home in a few hours.

I return to the house, sit in the recliner and sleep for 2 ½ hours.  

And this morning I wake up to a silent and still house.  I feel empty.  I have read many articles on how grandparents can impact a grandchild’s life.  But it is a mutual admiration society.  The impact of a grandchild on a grandparent’s life cannot be measured!  We all need to experience unconditional love and that is what I receive a hundred fold from these two little ones.  I would fight tigers for them.  But for now, I have to go buy some more Panda Cookies!