Happy Moment

"Where are you?"

"Here"

"What time is it?"

"Now"

"What are you?"

"This Moment”

As I troll through Facebook this morning, I see numerous posts about The New Year and how some folks were glad to see 2012 go and how 2013 is going to be better. 

So I am sitting here wondering what is so magical about the clock striking midnight.

There is nothing new about today that was not new about yesterday other then the fact that we were given new moments to live with and take advantage of.  The more important question is what you did with those moments yesterday vs. the new ones today.  I would venture to say that the posts I read this morning will be posted next year again and by the same folks.  It is important to realize that the clock striking midnight on the birth of a new year will not change anything as it is up to the individual to take advantage of the moments they are given as a gift, not a guarantee; key point – gift not guarantee.

So with this new moment upon us, I encourage all of you to answer the above questions honestly for yourselves and take advantage of the Here, Now and Moment and realize that each one is a special opportunity.  

The Family Heirloom

Twelve years ago My Mother received a dollar store Santa Clause figurine for Christmas from an acquaintance of hers.  The figurine was marked down to 50 cents as the bright orange price tag sticker was still on the piece.  My Mother gracefully accepted the gift with gratitude and thanked the woman, however her wheels started turning. 

That week following Christmas we celebrated with the Virginia folks, my Mom’s Brother Paul, Aunt Maryann and the cousins Paul Andrew, Michael and Gregory.  Present time came and Aunt Maryann was last up to open and at the end, my Mother said “Oh Maryann I have one more for you, hold on.” 

My Mother came back with a beautifully wrapped box and Aunt Maryann opened it with excitement.  As she unwrapped and opened the box she held in her hand the 50 cent Santa Clause figurine.  She was speechless and was not sure whether to say thank you or not, so my Mother broke the silence and told her the story and my Mother said “just a little gag gift for you, Merry Christmas.”

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The following year we gathered with the Virginia folks for our annual Christmas celebration.  My Mother sat and peeled through the bag of presents from Aunt Maryann and crew and at the very bottom, wrapped in tissue paper was the greatest gift of all; the 50 cent Santa Clause figurine, price tag sticker still attached and all.  And so the ‘Family Heirloom’ was born. 

Every Christmas, the figurine was passed back and forth between my Mother and Aunt Maryann, it became tradition. 

Last year, after the sudden death of my Mother and with father in the ICU at HUP I was not really in the Christmas Spirit, but alas we had the Virginia crew for the annual celebration.  Present time came and I opened mine and at the bottom of the bag was the infamous 50 cent Santa Clause figurine and yes the price tag sticker lasted all those years and was still prominent.  It brought a smile to my face and I began to plot the return of the Santa. 

Last night we had Christmas Eve here at my “Palace” and the Virginia crew came out early for the first time in over 21 years.  We had a great night, everyone actually like the soups I made (as per tradition) and it was now present time and my present debut was closer and closer!       

Aunt Maryann sat down and opened this oversized box where she found a beautiful red Waterford Crystal box.  My Uncle Paul said “Oh wow, she dug deep into those pockets this year” and then Aunt Maryann replied, “Oh my God, I think I just thought of something”  "Yeah, I think I just thought of something."  She continued to open and screamed with joy “I knew it, I knew it as soon as I saw Waterford.”

So The Family Heirloom has been passed back to its rightful owner.  Stay tuned for my reaction next year! 

Merry Christmas!  

Those Multiple 'Ring Ring' Moments

It was at least forty seven times a day (on average) that I would call my Mother and vice-versa.    We would chat; I always called to let her know I got to work safely every day (was always a concern of hers for some reason, LOLOL), etc. 

Many calls were just to say hi and hear each other’s voices.  Every night we spoke to say good night and squeeze in that “sleep tight, I love you” moment. 

Often I called for no reason at all and found my mother catching on and answering the phone and saying either “WHAT?!”  or “Speak oh great one” or if I was really pestering her that day my call was answered with just “SPEAK.”

I remember the very late night calls during football season on the occasional Thursday, Sunday or Monday night games when the Philadelphia Eagles played.  She always went to sleep before the end of the late night games, but could not get a full night’s sleep without knowing the final score so she would call me late at night or early morning and ask “did those ‘beagles’ lose?”  I would always answer honestly and say “yes!”  She always replied, “Good, sleep tight, I love you.”

Of course not every call was a joy ..

There was that one call in December 2009 where I checked in to let her know I had a ‘little’ car accident, she asked where I was and I was honest in saying “oh you know just sitting upside down on the expressway.”  She was not amused.

Less than a year later, May of 2010 she called me at 4:02AM stating “I can’t breathe; I think I have pneumonia, should I go to the hospital?”  I was not amused.  

Thankfully those above two calls ended on a happy note, my flipped car was totaled, but I was not and walked away not even a scratch and after over a week in the hospital with double pneumonia, my Mommy came home and all was well :-> 

We continued our phone call routine daily, much of those conversations were about nothing at all and everything at the same time as we heard each other’s voices and that was simply beautiful. 

September 3, 2011, late at night we spoke to each other and shared our “sleep tight, I love you” moment.  That was our very last phone call.

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Every day I still grab my cell phone to call Mommy just to say hi, let her I know I arrived safely and hear her voice.  Her cell and home phone number are still programmed as ‘Kathleen Vermitsky’ and will remain that way.  I always stop myself and smile instead as I know she is watching over me and knows my where abouts and no doubt helped me arrive safely where ever I go :->  

A Childhood Remembered During A 26.2 Mile Journey

“Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.” - L.M. Montgomery

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At the sound of whistles blown and gunshots fired in the air, we were off like thousands of ants running out of an ant hill we flooded the boards of Cape May New Jersey.  We continued along Ocean Drive, over 4 drawbridges through the fishing port of Lower Township onto the Wildwoods and along the full length of the boardwalk and then through Middle Township on into the island communities of Stone Harbor and Avalon finishing in Sea Isle City.

The wind was fierce as the sand was blowing and clung to the sweat on my skin with every mile accomplished.  My mind drifted as I began to reminisce of visiting each shore point with my family when I was younger.  The smell of fudge and Johnson’s popcorn, the taste of Curley’s fries, Mack and Manco’s pizza and Shelly’s chocolate ice cream.  A few more miles down as I continued my reminiscing remembering the sounds of laughter, sea gulls, amusement park rides, arcade games at Gateway 26 and of course my whining and screaming “daddy carry me” after we walked the full length of the Wildwoods boardwalk and had to venture back.  That few mile stretch from the crest to the north end seemed longer than the yellow brick road journey from The Wizard of Oz as my legs were short at four years old and I was tired, so after much pleading with a few tears shed daddy did carry me all the way back.

More miles down as I continued to remember the sights, sounds and feelings of visiting the shore points when I was younger.

As I approached the final mile ultimately crossing the finish line, I sit here writing reminiscing of the greatest sight, sound and feeling of my times at the Jersey Shore.  The sight was my Mother excitedly waving to me, the sound was her voice yelling “yay Danielle” as she clapped and the feeling was the hug we shared after completing my first 26.2 mile journey.

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This past weekend, Hurricane Sandy devastatingly took away most of those shore points and early September 2011 when my Mother passed she left countless folks devastated, but no one could ever take away the memories encountered, shared, loved and remembered.  Times of devastation bring upon unwanted and scary memories, but also bring hope and opportunity to regroup, rebuild and create new memories and happy times.  Each memory whether it be happy or devastating offer a message and just like the few mile stretch of the Wildwoods Boardwalk as a little kid, the possibilities and opportunities are endless and we must never forget what was, but simultaneously anticipate with excitement of what will be.    

The Greatest Gift

Barely two feet tall at three years old I sat in a chair at Mama Helen’s home waiting to open my birthday presents.  My Grandmother and Mother brought out a present that was bigger than me, certainly much taller than I was.  I was so excited and could not wait to open it; so excitedly I pushed my little glasses up on my face and swung my feet in anticipation as I was not tall enough to have them planted on the floor from the chair and as they placed the gift in my lap, I took a deep breath and unwrapped it only to find out it was …

A BROOM!

This was not your typical household broom to sweep the floors with, but a witch’s broom much like you’d see in the wizard of oz.

As I sat there crying in the chair my Grandmother and Mother all of a sudden became the paparazzi and snapped pictures left and right as I heard them say ‘our little witch born on mischief night was one of the greatest gift we ever received.’

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Reflecting back, I realize that the broom was the greatest gift I ever received.  While a witch is not such a desirable namesake it does resemble a woman of strength, courage and power.

 My real presents that day were not far away, which I unwrapped with all smiles.

While Mama Helen and Mommy are no longer here to celebrate my birthday I know they are celebrating in my honor from above and I just have to say to them yes, I still drive a ‘stick’ and the apple does not fall far from the tree(s) as I have learned from only the BEST witch’s.

PPOD

"I believe God is managing affairs and that He doesn't need any advice from me. With God in charge, I believe everything will work out for the best in the end. So what is there to worry about?" - Henry Ford

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Uncle Paul never worried and simply enjoyed life, always.  As a priest he was a role model to all and I clinged on to him especially when my Grandmother Helen passed away.  There was an extreme void when ‘mama’ passed as we had such great times with her, but the biggest void came within my mother.  She lost her own Mother and quite frankly her Father too as he only ever cared about any of us because of Mama and that was very apparent.  Uncle Paul stepped in and helped create new memories and taught us that life goes on and that we should always enjoy it, no matter what “don’t worry about it” he would always say!   

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Today October 14th 2012 would have been his 80th birthday so I trolled through memories and wrote this in his honor.  

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One of my earliest memories that I clearly remember was when Uncle Paul said a Sunday mass at the house.  I was about five years old and during the Consecration I took note that we did not have any bells so in order to save the mass I decided to act the bell noise out and as he held the host high I spoke out “ring-a-ling, ring-a-ling and ring-a-ling.”  That sent everyone in the house into extreme laughter, even Uncle Paul laughed so hard he almost could not finish mass – my debut was liked by all who laughed - except for one person.  As I enjoyed the laughter, I made eye contact with my Mother who was not only “not amused,” she had the look on her face that said to me ‘after mass you are in so much trouble,’ so I dodged mass and ran into the bathroom to hide in the clothes hamper from my Mother.  As I hid in the hamper patiently, I heard my Mother come in and say “you better not come out, the most solemn part of the mass and you verbally ring bells?”  Uncle Paul quickly came to my rescue and said to my Mother “Kathy, don’t worry about it, she is a kid – you should focus more on the fact that she knew Mass so well and identified that we didn't have bells, relax Kathy as I know even God was laughing too.”  As I heard my mother walk away I saw a glimmer of light as Uncle Paul opened the hamper and said “come on, get out of the hamper.”  I replied, “Is it safe?”  He answered “yes, don’t worry about it – good job and I’ll bring the bells next time.” 

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It was not uncommon to come home from school and find Uncle Paul napping on the sofa.  He would pop in often surprisingly for dinner and family time.  My Mother enjoyed his company and at the same time thought to herself “great not only to I have to ‘cook’ but this man will take my seat on the sofa while he naps.”  While I would pester Uncle Paul as he tried to rest, my Mother ‘cooked’ dinner meaning she would call Melonis and order a home cooked meal.  After two-minutes of slaving on the phone to prepare dinner, it finally arrived and she would call all of us into the kitchen.  Uncle Paul navigated from the sofa to a chair at the kitchen table and as he sat down he would always say “Oh, so good to sit down.” 

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When I was in High School, Uncle Paul came over for the weekend and about 8PM I said “good night to all.”  Uncle Paul replied, “Already?”  I said “yes, I have an early 5AM run in the morning.”  He replied, “I’ll join you, BUT if I am not at the kitchen table when you leave – feel free to start without me.”  Such a jokester he was!   

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One of the final and perhaps greatest memories I have of Uncle Paul was when he took me to Seattle to see the west coast family.  Wonderful vacation does not even begin to describe the time we had and that is a separate writing in itself.  The hospitality of my west coast peeps was truly remarkable and many memories were created that I am forever grateful for. 

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So Happy 80^th Birthday Uncle Paul – we love and miss you!  I wish everyone a happy Sunday and always remember the man’s advice and “don’t worry about it.”       

Flora the Explorer

“Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.”

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Flora came to work at Penn Mutual four years ago on the annuity service side.  Her cube was close to mine as I was just transferred back up to 3 east.  The first time I saw her; she stopped up to me and said ‘Hi, what’s your name?’  I replied ‘Danielle’

She paused and said ‘Okay I got it, I am Flora.’

I replied, ‘very nice to meet you.’

She answered ‘the pleasure is all mine, what a beautiful day, huh?  I have to go, but I will see you around.’

The next morning it was early and I walked into work, in my morning don’t bother me daze as usual when all of a sudden I heard a voice yelling ‘Hi Danielle, how are you today?’

I knew it was Flora, but did not know where the voice was coming from and then I spotted her waving and smiling from the third floor.  Meanwhile I was on the first floor, but how nice I thought; some people don’t like to say hello to you as they pass you in the hallway, but not Flora wherever you were if she spotted you then you got a smile and loud hello.

Despite any battles or pain she may have suffered, she was always happy; AWAYS happy.  I titled this piece ‘Flora the Explorer’ because every day she explored new avenues of happiness and always sought joy for every moment even when life spared moments of anything, but joy.  That thinking at all time is truly a gift and I am sure I speak for not only myself, but for all she met and came in contact with that she was an absolute gift.