Movies, Music, and My Mama

 Did you ever see the movie Babe?  It's a fabulous movie about a pig.  There's a scene in the when Babe says in a sad tone "I want my mum".  I've said that a lot over the years.  Although we talked almost every day, sometimes I just wanted a hug from her.  She made everything better.  It's been eighteen days since my Mama passed and I feel quite hollow.  I get up every day and do my daily routine.  Awake, pee, brush teeth, wash face, let Iggy out, get Big Daddy set for work.  The rest of my day is filled with the mundane; grocery shopping, cooking, laundry, et al.  I abhor laundry more than any other task.  It's the putting it all away for me.  I don't know why. 

There's an old movie I loved as a kid, Little Lord Fauntleroy.  It's a movie about a boy (Ricky Schroeder) and stars Alec Guinness.  SPOILER ALERT!!!!  At the end of the movie, Ricky Schroeder's Mom comes out from behind the Christmas tree.  Ever since we moved away from being local to my Mama 23 years ago, my wish was that she would come out from behind my Christmas tree each year.  It didn't happen and each year I would say 'next year'!  The last few years as my Mama's health became more challenging, I knew it would never happen, but I still wished she would surprise me.  The reality of that dream being no longer possible greatly saddens me.

My Mama and I connected on so many levels, not just movies (we loved Funny Girl and very bad B movies, They Call Me Bruce, and Rhinestone) but music.  We had two songs that were wholly ours:  I Just Called to Say I Love You as well as You and Me Against the World.  I grew up listening to my Mama sing everything from Helen Ready, Captain & Tennille, to opera.  Some of my very favorite memories as a teenager was playing the piano while my Mama or my sister would sing.  

While movies and music are wonderful, the best gift my Mama gave me was my faith.  As a cradle Catholic, I grew up getting the sacraments and went to church every Sunday.  While I didn't understand the why of it as a child, I knew it as it's just what we did.  We didn't talk a lot about Jesus and faith while I was growing up.  Rather, it was quietly instilled.  We prayed before every meal, we were taught to say our prayers, and my Mama let me know if ever I needed anything, Jesus was there.  I would talk to God, but really didn't listen for an answer, just talk.  As I became older, and I'd like to think somewhat wiser, we had more talks about faith, Jesus, and the Saints.  I still talk to Jesus and even pause to listen for His voice sometimes lol

While I miss my Mama so much, sometimes it's hard to breathe, my faith, the faith that she instilled in me continues and will continue to sustain me.

 Until next time, know I am praying for your intentions.

Love,

Me

100 Days

Well, it has been some time, hasn't it?  Since my last blog post, we've moved cities, build a home, lost jobs, gained jobs, faced health issues, lost loved ones, became empty nesters, and found our tribe.  The kids are all grown and married and we now have THREE grandchildren!  Through all of this there was sadness, pain, joy, faith and a multitude of love.

I titled this post 100 days because it sounds better than 98.  In 98 days we took two trips to Philadelphia, Big Daddy's dad, whom I've claimed as my own dad for the last 25 years, the most brilliant person I've ever known, passed away.  Then, both girls were married, three weeks apart.  Throw in Thanksgiving, Christmas, a trip to Myrtle Beach, and then 15 days ago, my mama, the keeper of my heart, passed away.  During these 98 days there was absolute joy and soul crushing sorrow.  However, the thing that persists, the reason I get out of bed in the morning, is my faith.  That, and the fact I have to pee.

Faith doesn't mean that everything is going to be easy, it means I'm going to be okay no matter what is happening.  I'm blessed that I was able to be at both of their bedsides and tell them how much I love them and how much they meant to me.  Both, for different reasons.  I'm blessed with the love and strength of our tribe that has sustained me daily, especially when I don't realize it.  I'm blessed that God brought me Big Daddy and his parents, the greatest in-laws to ever walk the faith of the earth.  I'm blessed that we added two sons to our family.  I don't like the term in-law as to me, it comes across as 'the law says you have to let me into your home'.  Meh, do I reaaally?  We not only welcomed two new sons into our home, but into our hearts.    They (and their families) are the perfect spouses for our girls.  Lest I leave my daughter-in-love out, our friendship and love have grown exponentially over the last four years.  I'm blessed to have watched our children grow into wonderful adults.  Were the last few years easy?  No.  Not at all.  There were arguments, hurt feelings, anger, and resentment.  But, there was also, forgiveness, friendship, grace, and love.  Any relationship, be it friendship, marriage, or relationships with your adult children, they take work.  No one is perfect.  Perfection is a myth.  That has taken me too many years to realize.  There are going to be arguments, disagreements, anger, et al.  The key is forgiveness and grace both for yourself and them (I'm working on forgiving myself and giving myself grace, it's not always easy).  Does that mean my relationship with my friends and children are perfect?  Nope, not a chance.  While they are good, there is always room for improvement.  I'm a type A control freak with OCD.  I want my family and my tribe all to live next door (at least within five seconds, don't you know).  I want them to have amazing lives, I want to have big gatherings with them all.  It doesn't work like that.  They have their own lives, dreams, and goals.  I am blessed that I get to be a part of it.

Through the last few months, I've been depressed, angry, sad, and yes, joyful.  And through it all my faith, family, and my tribe is what sustained me.  I know no matter how bad things are that God is using my pain, sorrow, and joy, for a reason.  And, while I selfishly want to know the reason, most days, I'm content in not knowing.   I know that while I am mourning the loss of those who had the most profound affect on my life, that I am not alone.  I am never alone.  God, Big Daddy, and my tribe surround me with love, patience, and sometimes a kick in the arse when needed.

Until next time, I wish you faith that can move mountains and a tribe of your very own.

Love,

Me

Pittsburgh in Texas

Yesterday, I spent two hours sitting outside of our new home that is in the middle of construction.  As I sat there, I worked from my phone, answered messages, and marveled at the men who were bricking my new home.  I can hear some of you now.  "Why are you sitting outside for two hours in front of a house that isn't even finished?"  Well, grab a glass of sweet tea, or my favorite, a glass of cold water, and I'll tell you.

As Big Daddy will attest, I LOVE looking at homes.  New homes, old homes, going to open houses, looking at homes on Realtor.com all of it.  It's a hobby.  Big Daddy on the other hand is not.  I like to get ideas for different rooms, the yard, colors, etc.  Sixteen years ago, we moved to Texas.  Fifteen years ago, we purchased our first home.  The control freak in me knows what I want, what I'm looking for, so, I didn't just let my realtor do the work and sit back.  In the end, I found what would be our first home.  The house was perfect for us.  It was a two story with the master bedroom up.  Something hard to find in Texas.  Back home in Pittsburgh, it was the norm.  Being that my children were still young, I din't want them to have to come downstairs if they needed something in the middle of the night.  The backyard had a Magnolia tree.  Big Daddy and I lived in the outskirts of Charleston, SC for years and my Mama still does.  The Magnolia tree is all over Charleston, so it was like having a piece of home with me.  The front yard had a huge, honkin' tree in the front and I love big, old trees.  It was the perfect home for us.  While we were waiting to close, I would go to the house (I knew the lock box code) and would sit inside of the house and just marvel at this beautiful home.  Our first home.  It was ours.  I loved imagining where I would put furniture, what colors I'd paint, everything.

You see, yesterday was no different.  I sat outside our new home, marveling at the worker on the ground throwing 2 bricks at a time up to the worker on the scaffolding.  You may think it's no big deal.  To me, it was pretty cool to see.  Our home has been under construction for a few weeks.  The workers know my car now.  I smile and wave.  I love walking through the house and watching the changes.  Where there was an empty lot became a foundation.  Then the foundation, then plumbing was added.  Then came a frame.  Walls were added.  And then a roof!  I was so excited, I videoed my mom, my sister, and Big Daddy saying "we have a ROOF" lol!  Next was insulation, then drywall.  I've walked through the house countless times and will be walking through it countless more.  The construction manager doesn't mind.  He even welcome's my visits!  I like seeing the evolution of my home.  I keep my family updated (I send my dad pictures weekly!) so they can be a part of the process.

I'm at the house a few times a week, some weeks daily, but never more than a half hour, until yesterday.  I sat outside and envisioned sitting outside on our back porch swing marveling at the Texas sky that I will never get tired of.  I envisioned working in my study.  Decorating the new home.  I know where my Ascension of Mary painting is going (right across from my study).  I know where my cross wall is going (in the kitchen across from my Island).  I know by the kitchen table my hobbit meal plaque is going on the wall.  I know that to left of my kitchen sink will go a sign that says "this kitchen is for dancing".  I know where the tables will be placed for bunco with my tribe.  I know where the Christmas tree is going.  And, I know that I'll be putting a flamingo in my front yard.

I am in love with our new community.  All it needs is a Kroger and I'd never have to leave the subdivision!  It's beautiful and my neighbors?  They're awesome!  I've met so many of them online in our community group, even neighbors who live on my street!  The community is a mix of young families, empty-nesters, everything in between.

God has a sense of humor.  If you told me when I was younger that this Steeler loving girl from the 'Burgh was going to move to Texas and love it, I said you must be drunk.  But yet, here I am, about to level up to 50, nausiatingly, happily married, having the best family and tribe that anyone could be blessed with, and I loving that I get to help others everyday.  God sure knows what He's doing!

Until next time,
Don't just imagine your dreams, make them come true!
Love,
Me

Thankful Thursday

I was prepared.  As the mom of an Eagle Scout, I wouldn't expect anything less.  I was so prepared for Lent.  I went to confession, I went to the Parish Mission, I had my daily prayer time.  I was ready!  I was ready for new wineskins!  And then, life happened.

Mind you it was nothing bad.  Quite exciting actually.  But my focus was diverted.  No longer was this Lenten season my focus.  No, there were trips to take, surprises to share, laundry to do, projects to work on.  Gone went the dedicated prayer time I had set aside, the Rosary, and the podcasts.  My focus was diverted and I didn't even notice it happening.

Today is Holy Thursday.  It's the time when Jesus washed His apostles feet.  He showed them, and us, how to be.  We must put ourselves last.  We are here to serve, not be served.  If everyone puts everyone else first, then aren't we all first and all our needs being met?  If I put my husband first and he puts me first, aren't we both well taken care of?  If I serve my sister from my heart and she serves me from her heart, aren't we both being served in love?  If the whole world, heck, if my family did this, we would all be served and feel loved.

I fall short everyday.  I have grand plans on how I want things to go and how I want to be.  I get in my own way, I trip over my own feet, I stumble often.  I want to be better.  I want to be better than I was last year, last week, yesterday.   Easter is almost here.  I am reminded how Jesus loves me.  I say loves and not loved because He still loves me.  In my faults, in my failings, in my sorrows and in my joys.  He loves me.  I am reminded that there is no sin so great that it would stop Him from loving me.  And that, my dear friends, is what I am thankful for every single day, with every breath I take.  In all my preparation and grand plans, I remain a sinner.  And, while I desire to be the best I can be, knowing that when I fall short, I am still loved, is what matters most.

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:38-39.

Wishing you a blessed Holy Week.

Until next time,

Put someone else first.  

Love,

Me

Transformation Tuesday

When you are the black sheep of the family, it's hard to find your place.  I've pretty much been the black sheep in most every situation (family, school, etc).  I've always been different.  I don't just march to the beat of my own drum, I have my own marching band.  

Who decided the 'people that are suppose to love you unconditionally' are your family?  Who gave us black sheep that expectation?  Who drilled it in to our heads and made us feel that if our own family doesn't accept us, we are unworthy or that there is something wrong with us?  I have no clue who it was, but I'd love to give them a piece of my mind.

At 35 I found out where I belonged.  To and with God.  Which is wonderful and great and all of that.  But where do I fit in here on the Earth?  I have a few family members who did and still do accept me unconditionally and that is awesome.  But I do not get to see them often.  15 years ago, Big Daddy and I attended an event at church and met another couple.  The four of us hit it off.  I found out that the wife and I would be on the same retreat in the coming weeks and I asked God to place her at my table so I would at least know someone as we were new to the parish.  It should be no surprise, that He did just that.  Fifteen years ago, I met my family.

I get offended when people like to decided who MY family is.  "Oh you're sisters in Christ!"  "Oh you're not blood family."  My 'sister' is the one who has seen me at my worst.  My 'sister' is the one who has comforted me through panic attacks, held me as I cried, comforted me when I lamented how my own father doesn't accept me.  My 'sister ' was there at the scary times not just the good times.  My 'sister' has celebrated my wins and loved me through my losses.  My 'sister'  has called me out when I wasn't being or doing my best.  Having my 'sister' led to another 'sister' and a 'brother', and the most wonderful couple, their parents.  Their Dad hung a 4 foot crucifix with my son in our home eons ago.  My own father never saw that house.  He was invited, but has never come to Texas to visit us in the almost 16 years we have lived here.  

Big Daddy's parents are the best in-loves anyone could as for.  They both accepted me as their own.  They are the most loving people you could ever meet.  They have never treated me anything less than a daughter (not a daughter-in-law).  In fact, I claimed Dad as mine.  Not just Big Daddy's. 

This weekend, I went home to surprise my 'family' for Rosemary's 84th birthday.  It was the first time I was able to visit my 'sister' Barb and her family at their home.  Home is exactly where I was.  The home overflows with love from the dogs to the grown kids, to my 'sister' and her husband.

Love is when you surprise Rosemary and your 'sister' is in the background excited to see you and you see the look of joy on her face. (we were there to surprise not just Rosemary, but our siblings.

Love is when your 'sisters' husband gives you a huge hug when he sees you and is happy you are there.

Love is when your 'sisters' husband says things like "this is why you fit in so well'.

Love is when your 'brother' walks by during Rosemary's birthday as your sitting with your 'sisters' and says "all my sisters, together!"

Love is when you say to your 'sister' after playing games with the family "this is the family I should have been born into" and she agrees.  

Love is when your 'sister' holds your hand as you wonder how your own family cannot accept you and yet a whole big family loves and accepts you just the way you are.

Love is crying at the airport as you leave a part of yourself behind.  I will never understand how I became so blessed and so loved, so unconditionally.  But trust me when I say it isn't something I take for granted.

I'm not stupid.  I know people don't understand why family is so important to me.  Why being accepted is so important to me.  Why being a part of something is so important to me.  They were never the black sheep.  You do not get to decide who my family is.  You do not get to decide who is or is not my 'dad' or 'brother' or 'sister'.   That is something only I get to do.  

People are adopted at all different ages.  Why should finding your true family as an adult be any different?  It just took me longer to get my forever home.

Until next time,

If you aren't accepted into the family you were born into, make your own.  Only you can transform your life.

Love,

Me

My Word of the Year

I've spent the better part of the last few days reflecting on the last year and all that I accomplished and where I fell short.  God, Big Daddy, and my amazing tribe walked with me the entire way.

This past year, we saw our daughter graduate from college, our son get married, went on our very first cruise, and sold our home.  My beautiful bouts of depression, while not as often, still reeled its head.  I learned that even I, who hates it with a passion, has to ask for help sometimes.  I reached out, reached up, and humbly accepted the help.  I started rewiring the self-talk voice in my head that use to talk down to me all the time.  It's still there, just not as loud.  I'll get there.  I'm Italian, I talk louder.

This past year I faced a few fears, I was brave and courageous.  I started believing in my abilities and I even finished out the year with a big fear, the dentist.  This is not to compare your fears with mine.  My fear of the dentist was/is real and stems from past trauma with dentists.  I found myself in the middle of the year having to find a new dentist for our family.  And, I couldn't have found a better one if it was God or Hermie the Dentist himself.  What was suppose to be major dental work over a few visits with a former dentist turned out to be one visit for just a bit of royal work.  And, now, all I will need is cleanings.  The dentist could not have been greater!  Sure, to you, it may have not been brave.  But, I was the one panicking.  I was the one who knew what had to be done (this was not just cosmetic work) and even panicked and scared, persevered.  And you know what, Big Daddy an my tribe?  They were proud of me.  These people know all my faults and my failings, all my fears, and they know how hard this was for me.  And, I did it.  "Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather that the assessment of something else is more important than fear" (Franklin D Roosevelt).  I was and am proud of myself.

I ended the year (and began the new) as I do every year, with my sister and our families.  We ate, played games, loved and laughed.  I do not think my stomach stopped hurting from laughing so hard until this afternoon!  I can think, of no better way to end every year and bring a new one in.

Perhaps you have seen all over Facebook peoples word for the year.  One that they want to focus on.  I really thought about this these past few days as well.  I want to be intentional.  Brave.  Kind.  Loving.  Helpful.  Hopeful.  Joy.  Peace.  I was having a hard time figuring it out.  What is the right word for me?  What can encompass everything I want to become, grow, and accomplish this year?  And, I found it.  My word of the year is PRAYER.  I want to be more intentional in my prayers.  I want to pray without ceasing.  I want to be so joined to God that I do not know where I end and He begins.  I want to be at His feet constantly.  I want to hold on to not just the hem of Jesus garment, but His hand.  I want to sit in His and rest in His presence.  I want to be close to Mary.  I want to rest in her mantle, receive her graces and share with her what is going on daily.  I want to call on the Saints and have a deeper relationship with them other than "Tony, Tony look around, there's something lost that can't be found".  My marriage, my family, my tribe?  They are all gifts created from above.  How could I wish for anything more than that?  So, there you have it.  My word of the year is prayer.

Until next time,

The Lord bless you and keep you.
The Lord make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you.
The Lord lift up His countenance on you and give you peace.
(Numbers 6:24-26)
Love,
Me

We're All A Little Rudolph

We moved to Texas almost 15 years ago.  I never thought this Pittsburgh girl would ever move out of state, let alone to Dallas.  But here I am, and God willing, here is where I will stay.

Most of you have heard me say that I am the black sheep of my biological family at one time or another.  I am totally okay with that.  As the years have gone by and I've leveled up in years, I have learned so very much, but none more so much than how to love myself and let myself be loved.  You might be great at that, for this type A person, I was not, and still struggle at times.

About 12 years ago, I was introduced to the second greatest pastime in Texas after high school football.  The game of Bunco.  For the longest time, I was asked to sub into groups but never had a place that I belonged.  Not like the high school version of you don't belong.  Not the picked on kind of you don't belong, but rather, people have to die or get kicked off the group in order to get a permanent spot.

So, like most things in my life, eight years ago,I began with a plan and a prayer.  I asked Bob (aka the Holy Spirit) who to invite into the group.  After He and I made a list and gathered the people, the Happy Hugging Holy Bunco group was formed.  Some people have had to drop out for various reasons and we have brought others on.  However, the core people remain.  All of these women are my family.  We have faced illnesses, cancer, and death.  We have celebrated weddings, laughed, at times argued, and always, always, loved.  As my Carol said it best last evening "you hold your family up and we will hold you up".

With bunco, you rotate the host monthly.  Some of us keep the same one, I'm always October and Halloween costumes are mandatory, Liz is always February, (both her and her daughter Amanda are born on Valentines day!), Amy and Amanda are teachers and always in the summer, and Carolina, always has December bunco.  About 7 or so years ago, Carolina purchased a statue of Mama Mary holding baby Jesus.  I have wanted it ever since then.  The statue has been everywhere in here house.  Every time, and I do mean, EVERY TIME, I walk in her house, I find her and ask for her.  Last night was no exception. There is just a pull to this statue.  I feel a bond, or whatever label you want to call it, I simply will call it home.

This year, one of my dreams/goals has come true.  We sold our house and have moved.  We are temporarily in an apartment and all is well.  We moved 15 years of stuff in 3 weeks.  It was stressful to say the least, but we pushed through and persevered with a lot of help.  Through all of it, my (bunco) family supported me, loved me, and lifted me up in prayer.

Last night was our annual Christmas bunco at Carolina's.  After the delicious food was eaten, the Chilean lemonade drunk and the round robin gift exchange had happened. Carolina made made an announcement.  "Gina," she said "We all got together and got you a housewarming present!  The twist is, you have to find it!  Pleasantly surprised (who does't love presents!!??) but maybe *slightly* inebriated from the work party before and 2 glasses of Chilean lemonade, and not exactly ready to get off the comfortable couch, I asked, "Is it wrapped? (no), Is it bigger than a bread box (yes).  I looked around the room and then jokingly said "Is it Mary!? "  Carolina said "YES!"  Then, there was a minute or two of me in disbelief and back and forth NO!  YES!, and I was just about in tears.  I was handed my Mama and hugged and loved on and thanked everyone.  Then, I sat back on the couch with my statue and wouldn't move for about 15 minutes. 

Mama Mary is happily with me in the apartment.  I've been talking to her all day.   The family I was born into I didn't exactly fit (except for my mom, she's the greatest!).  Like Rudolph, being a misfit, we made our own families.  I am richly, undeservedly blessed.  We all have our insecurities and self doubts, we are all misfits.  However, we are all loved by the greatest Dad I could ever imagine, God and that' all anyone could ever ask for!  At the end of the day. we are all a little Rudolph.  Merry Christmas from my heart, to yours.

Until next time,
Embrace your misfit, she's awesome!

Love,
Me