Reality Bites

To try and make it sink into my brain that I am FAT, my daughters put on my jeans; each fitting perfectly well into one leg.
I have the opposite dilemma of a former fat person who loses weight and never sees
herself thin. I was always extremely thin. In these past few years I gained the weight of another person. I am twice the woman I use to be.

As I see it, if women of my age retained the beauty of their youth, with the wisdom we gained across the decades the poor skinny girls would be out of luck.

Reality Bites

Cast aside. Overlooked by treasure hunters that failed to recognize a "real" treaure.

NO!



NO! NO! NO!.....I am not ready for snow. Much to my horror, there is snow on the ground.



How could I end up living in the snow capital? Anyone want to trade places? There are three major ski resorts within fifteen minutes from my house.



As they say in Portuguese "Deus da nozes a quem nao tem dentes" (God gives walnuts to the toothless)

Just when I think that this grieving thing is over, it sneaks upon me once more, much like a stone inside your shoe, it cannot be ignored.

Six years ago today, I was sitting at my father's bedside keeping vigil as I had done for the five weeks he had been paralyzed. I sensed that the end was near. Nothing much changed on this night. Just a knowing without knowing. His breathing seemed more rapid than before, although it was by no means labored. I spent the entire night watching over him. Afraid that he would slip away if I fell asleep. I rested my head on the side of his chest and waited for dawn to break.

Around 10:40 I realized that I had not fed his beloved animals. I went into the yard, casting some cracked wheat to his many pigeons. Gave his six chickens some fresh water and corn. I wasn't gone for more than five minutes. Within those five minutes, my father died. Although he had been comatose for a few days, he opened his eyes for my mother, smiled , and raised his head to kiss her. Then, he just stopped breathing.

It was very hard for me to accept this timing. I so much wanted to be by his side as he drew his last breath.....I did however, witness the exhale of his last breath as I held him close to me.

Anniversaries. They sneak up on you and stir the old wounds. They draw blood from where you were sure there was no longer a scab, only a scar. I was so glad it was raining when I realized that my scab was torn today. No one realized that I was crying.

Rain, just rain.

A girl after my own heart!

After a six year interruption, the old equipment in the cellar came alive again.

My hands are tinged purple from dancing with the juice of my father's grapes. After a six year moratorium, we had a "vindima" this year. The last one was very painful since my father fell ill on the day we finished. He waited until the last grandchild left to collapse with what would be his final cerebral hemorrhage. I recall trying to save the wine that had been crushed into the barrels. It was an impossible task for one person to accomplish alone. I recall crying in despair as the reality of the situation became more than I could take. My father laid upstairs paralyzed and the fruits of his last labor slipped away gushing out of my control onto the floor.....

Perhaps this milestone marks the end of the deep grieving.

During the vindima, we spread some of my father's ashes onto the yard. This had been a request of his. My mother had strong objections but went along with it. It was the most serene, I would almost call it "sacred" experience. Our guests and the family went into the garden late at night through a pathway lit with candles inside chinese lanterns. Each one of us carried a candle. My father rests under an apple tree in this piece of land that he loved so.

Since that date, my mother has been rather agitated. The ground is not hallowed. She holds her beliefs tightly to the strings of the Catholic Church. An institution that has been so cruel to her, but she continues to hold it in a place that I cannot an will never understand.

Yesterday, a priest came over with a family friend. This property is somewhat famous around these parts and people like to visit. It is a little Eden in the middle of the city. Most unusual indeed.

My mother requested that the priest bless the land. In her eyes/heart this would make it right.
I was overjoyed when his comments were exactly the same as mine. As he told my mother, that land was more than blessed by my father's toil and sweat. His love of it had blessed it long ago.
Nevertheless, he blessed it to make an old woman's heart beat more peacefully.

While picking up my prescriptions at Wegman's this afternoon, I couldn't help but overhear the exchange between a customer and a pharmacy employee. The young employee approaches the elderly lady and says: Do you have a deductible in your insurance coverage? I do, replies the lady. It seems that a deductible was applied. These prescriptions are VERY EXPENSIVE. Did you process them through my insurance? asks the elderly lady. The girl, rather nervously says: Yes. How much are they? This one is THREE HUNDRED AND FORTY DOLLARS. THIS ONE IS THREE HUNDRED.....and by then I was so upset, that I did not even hear the exact amount. The elderly lady stood frozen with her credit card in hand. She did not move or speak. The young associate asks: Do you want them? The elderly lady finally moves her hand to extend the credit card and says: I need them........ Close to SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS.....TOTAL!

I could not remain silent. Out loud I said: To think of all these morons who have been disrupting town meetings instead of trying to find out what the proposed health care plan is all about. These agitators, no doubt motivated by those putting their efforts into derailing this program, paid no doubt by insurance and drug lobbies, want to make it clear that they GOT THEIRS and the rest of the American population, those millions without any health coverage can just go F--K themselves. The ignorance...the ignorance.

Yet, I am sure that none of these "CONCERNED CITIZENS" will refuse the Social Security checks when they retire, TRUE, they made discounts, but how many of them will have contributed as much as they will receive? Isn't that a government run program? Is that also Socialism? I don't know what is greater, the ignorance or the stupidity!

What was supposed to be a time of getting to know each other, and start building their own little nest, the worst possible news. Instead of having a six month period before deployment, my son in law, this child, has been informed that he will be leaving for Afghanistan on August 26th.

This war was very personal to me. I had no idea of how much more deeply personal it would become. I feel a profound sadness for those
"serving" and all the life milestones that they are missing. There are no words left for those that will never return and the suffering of the loved ones.

God, keep him safe.......

A good night to all.

My little girl, the one that had collected Martha Stewart's wedding editions since high school and had always talked about the "BIG AFFAIR", surprised us all by eloping; she did have a change of heart at the last minute and invited us to witness.

Life has so many surprises! I barely know this young man, my new son in law. But the way he looks into my daughter's eyes, tells me all that I need to know.

They were married yesterday. He is a soldier. I pray that the madness of the war stops soon. I was against this insane war from day one, long before it lost popularity from the crowd overflowing with "national pride".

Now, I have so much more at stake. I need for him to return home safely and continue to love my daughter....

My little darling looks at me as to say "are you really happy with all this pink? My mommy believes that you are trying to throw her over the edge with all of this sissy stuff......"

One year she has spent amongst us.

This precious, loving child! A Divine gift from above that came to comfort all of us.

May you always retain your sweetness, my darling little G.

Just a few days ago, this past week, it was so cold that despite the furnace's constant running, I actually built a fire.

A couple of days later, temperatures in the high eighties. Today, we are predicted to hit 90. Such extremes have us along with mother nature confused.

This burst of heat has finally forced Spring into action. Overnight plants and flowers erupted like volcanoes.

Color is beginning to reign again.

John is a new friend to the family. Like so many others before him, he stopped by my mother's house to tell her how much he has admired her house and gardens. My father's generosity lives in hundreds of gardens in this city from cuttings of plants/flowers that he was always happy to share. Many would promise to come and help with the garden as a form of repayment for the truckloads of "gifts" they hauled away. There was no expectation on our part. People usually feel the need to say nice things due to the lack of comfort with such generosity.

John is one that did come back. Actually he came to help long before he reaped any compensation. The property is showing the absence of my father's touch. It is too huge for me to handle. We would seriously need a full time caretaker, which we cannot afford. Since last fall, John has shown up several times a week to help with whatever is necessary. As a result, he has gotten to know the family.

John knows that during my grand daughter's few weeks of life in the NICU she was known as the peach. In typical John style he showed up bearing gifts. Four lovely packages casually handed over in a plastic bag. One for each adult woman in G.'s life. Upon opening them, we realized that each contained a tiny silver peach.

We have been officially ordained as the sisterhood of the peach.

So refreshing to come across a wingless angel.

 

Had not seen these "treasures" since I left Portugal back in the 60's. My neighbor's mother who recently visited from San Diego brought me a box chuck full.

I cannot describe the sensation upon my first bite!

If there is a heaven, I believe I have an idea of what it feels like.

 

MAKEOVER

 

 

 

It all started out with trying on Z's new shoes.

My mother who has not shed her black clothes since the day my father died, was now wearing a bright green top as the girls stripped her of the heaviness both on her face and body.

Next came the lip gloss after tons of protesting. She has great pride that no paint has ever adorned her face.

The glasses were traded with Z's to see if she like them or not. Hers, according to the girls are totally dated.

The change was palpable. What was even more evident, was the change in her face. Lit by a bright smile. A heartfelt smile, one that has been missing for five years and five months.

Here is my mother at 80 years young. She has decided that she has a new lease on life since my oldest daughter and child moved in with her about a month ago.

The circumstances of this move were painful to us, but the results are already proving that indeed there is a silver lining to every stormy cloud.

Today is my father's birthday.

A mass had been requested in memory of him and although the church and I are not "close friends" I felt obliged to attend.

Just when you think that we are past the point of losing control of your emotions, your soul surprises you and lets out a flood from that fountain you were sure had dried through the years.

I miss you Pai.


Hope the angels know that you don't like frosting on your cake.

Dog Days

One usually refers to "dog days" in the summer time. My dog days are in the middle of the winter as I have given up on any sleep tonight. I could have slept (or I think I could have only because of the obstacles).

Rough night for man and beast alike. The house is rattling with the strong winds. The snow continues to fly furiously. The poor dogs are frightened by the sound of the wind. No, you are not in Arizona anymore! They pile into my small bed. I recently replaced the queen size to a twin to allow more space for my granddaughters crib. Not such a good move. Most of the bed is being taken up by the sweet critters.

Sleepiness abandoned me around 2AM. Neither the dogs or the baby (whose mother is down with a terrible cold and fever) could settle down. They finally have. Lucy buried under the covers. Bela sprawled across. The baby is still very fidgety and I hope it is not a sign that she is coming down with her mother's cold.


It is now 4 am. I will try to forget about the past six hours, including the cold spots I stepped on, courtesy of Miss Lucy. Yes. I will pretend that I just woke up from a wonderful restful sleep. Time to brew some coffee and re energize myself for a new day. Miss G. usually wakes up around five for a feeding.

The weather's brutal grip won't be released any time soon. Another storm on the forecast. Nothing new or surprising. Only my tolerance is weakening.

Cannot help but think how this will affect Z.'s babies who are not accustomed to this . They have always lived in Phoenix. They have heavy sweaters and booties but I am concerned that my furry grandchildren will be traumatized by the Central New York temperatures.

Only have a few days to doggy proof the house. Miss Lucy, is still very fond of chewing anything in site. Especially leather shoes. Oh! We are in for some changes. The house has been quiet for several years.

It will definitely be an adjustment period for all. Keeping my fingers crossed.

2:23 AM. This has become routine. My body aches but my eyes refuse to close and sleep. My brain won't shut down. Images of you cannot be erased. I still feel the touch of your feet as cold as the snow that covers the ground. Not all the massaging in the world could bring some resemblance of warmth to them or relief of pain.

I will not let you see me spill any tears.

I will not curse the gods for what they have done to you. I will lie, and thank them for still having you upright.

"TRUE PEACE IS NOT MERELY THE ABSENCE OF TENSION: IT IS THE PRESENCE OF JUSTICE"

martin luther king, jr.

of all the things i thought i knew about him, i had never heard the above quote. it sent shivers up my spine.

In loving memory of Daisy.

Sweetest furry angel that touched our lives for too short a while but will stay in our hearts forever.

I really never thought I would live to see a day like today......

Finally, we can begin to live up to the beliefs of the constitution that ALL MEN are created EQUAL.

Mr. Obama has inherited a country that is in rags. The challenges ahead are tremendous.

Today for the first time in a long time I did not feel shame, when I listened to my President speak......

The weather has been brutal. Absolutely brutal. The highs have been hovering around 6F. That in itself would be enough but the wind...Oh the windchill factor took us to -15F. Even the ski clothes could not keep out the effects of this most furious show of mother nature.

After driving only a few blocks, my hands became so numb that I could not insert the key into my front door. It has been a long time since I felt this severe cold.

Today, I only left the house to pick up my granddaughter. The heating system blasting in the car and her little face covered by a thick blanket to go the five feet between the car and the house.

We are staying put. We are not venturing out till mother nature's performance is over.

Dona Lurdes was laid to rest today.

After church, we followed her to the cemetery where the graveside service was brief due to the weather conditions.

The wind whipped the green tent above the coffin. It whipped the mourners who bent against it trying to keep from being pushed off their feet. I hated leaving her there, behind for the "caretakers" to insert her into the mausoleum. It seemed so unfinished!

Funerals are so "clean" It's a bad choice of words, I realize.....but it's almost like a staged play!

Despite the criticism that I received for my father's services, I would not change a thing. It was personal and intimate.

The Portuguese community is dwindling. Very few of the old timers remain. We are left to a few dozen in this city. The new generation, our children, do not speak the language. I feel a sense of loss of more than the old timers.

I must think of a way to tie the children and future generations to a little bit of the past. To one day be able to know at least where we came from. Time to start writing down part of what is fast becoming history.

Igreja de Santo Estevao, Lisboa Portugal *photograph borrowed from net*


Fifty nine years ago today, my parents exchanged vows at this local.

They promised to love and cherish, in sickness and in health till death do them part.

That, they did. For 54 years. Through good times and bad, sickness and health they stuck it out until death did part them when my father left this world and moved on to a better place.

Farewell

Dona Lurdes finally left; the train to Gouveia picked her up this afternoon.

I felt a certain form of release on her behalf. She had been waiting so impatiently. I last saw her a couple of weeks ago. I sat all afternoon with her. Just she and I. She stared at me as trying to remember where she had seen me before. She stared and stared. Now and then she would break into an almost smile.

She looked weary. Her forehead was covered with sweat beads. The temperature in the room was way too warm. I wiped her forehead gently and asked if she was thirsty. She clenched her lips as a sign of some memory of control that she still possessed. This was her way of telling her body to stop. Luisa had told me that she was refusing nourishment. I pleaded with her gently. She did try to sip from a straw but did not really remember how to do it. The nurse brought me sponge sticks and after much temptation on my part of running them over her parched lips, she opened her mouth and swallowed little drops.

I attempted to change her pajama top. The dead weight of her body frame was more than I could move. I was determined to rid her of the drenched top. I succeed, but not before I was drenched in sweat myself. I bathed her at the bedside. Just her torso and head. She seemed peaceful and relaxed. She did not fight me. I brushed her hair back and wondered if she would be offended, were she in her right frame of mind. I told her that we had to go to a party that evening, after all both of us were celebrating our birthdays on that very day! I believe that I did see a full smile. I spent a few quiet hours by her bedside. It was peaceful and I could not think of a better way to spend my birthday.

At three o'clock today, she departed. Wonder if Gouveia is still as lovely as she remembered.......

Farewell Dona Lurdes. May you finally be where you have been wishing. Rest in peace.

I finally learned how this angel broke its neck. Z. finally spilled the beans. Apparently, many years ago, during my absence, there was a party at the house. One of those parties held in secrecy when a house becomes "available" for teenage liberation! I had thought that my house had never hosted one of those parties. Living across the street from the grandparents, I felt secure that the constant vigilance would be a great deterrent. No. I was fooled all these years.

Recently, during an "intervention" by my two adult daughters, who absolutely detest the clutter of my collections, the poor angel became target number one for the trash.....

I could not part with him. I got him long before angels became a collector's fad. The alternative given was one that the girls thought I would not accept. If I wanted to keep the angel, then all of my clothes would have to go to charity. And so it was, closet after closet, bin after bin, every piece of my clothing was held, and finally put into industrial size plastic bags. It was difficult, very difficult, but as a final push, they used an approach that I could not possibly contradict. When a certain piece became difficult to part with, they held up my gorgeous granddaughter and asked me: "Do you love it more than G.?" What a question! I love nothing more than G!

My van was filled with all the bags of clothing, shoes, etc. My van has only the two front seats since I use it to carter around large things.

At the donation center, I was looked at strangely. The van was unceremoniously unpacked.

I smiled when I returned home feeling a lot lighter and seeing my broken angel greet me. It was worth the price.

I received this peace offering 53 years after an offense was committed against me. An offense that has stayed with me through out those many years and the "offender" finally came forth and apologized.

The year was 1954. We lived in Cerva on top of a beautiful mountain among a half dozen families whose fathers were posted to that town. My uncle from "America" had visited and showered my sister and I with real toys. American beautiful toys. Among those were two dolls. My sister's was a composition doll, much bigger than mine in the shape of an adorable baby. Mine was made of a harder type of celluloid. Since my sister's doll was more life like, I decided to give it a bath without her permission. To my horror, I watched the doll disintegrate before my eyes. I still can hear my cries. I was heartbroken. Totally heartbroken! This had been the most beautiful doll I had ever seen.

My sister must have been furious with me, although I do not remember her shouting at me in anger. Instead, she asked me for my small celluloid doll. She had a little garden and told me she was going to have my doll guard the garden from the birds. I willingly obliged. She was placed in the play garden and I thought all was well with the world. My sister was being so sweet to me. Out of the blue, my sister picked up a boulder. I am sure that the stone probably was the size of an adult hand, but in my memory, it is a gigantic boulder. She calmly rose it above her head and with a sweet smile on her face, dropped it on top of my doll. She casually mentioned a volcano!

I saw the boulder crush my helpless doll into a hundred pieces. I remember screaming so hard that I could barely catch my breath.

Through the 53 years this incident would come up, more often than one might imagine, and I felt so hurt that she maliciously killed my dolly......

This Christmas, she acknowledged she was wrong and apologized. Now, as I told her, I still wait for the apology of the time she and her friends put me inside a burlap sack and threw me down a flight of stairs. That was one way of getting rid of a annoying little sister.