People Who Care

I have an activity ring from SimplyFun (SimplyFun.com/sloren) with tons of random questions. Sometimes I ask these questions to my son, other times my friend Kim and I take turns asking each other questions when I'm helping her at her restaurant.
A few days ago, we asked each other questions, replying with silly answers like those we may have given if we were five years old. But then Kim asked, "What's the nicest thing someone has ever done for you?"
Her husband joked, "My ex-wife filed for divorce". We all got a laugh, but I really thought about it. Lots of "nice" things came to mind. But one moment stuck.
My husband and I made a careless financial decision a couple years ago that put us in a very bad situation. It was hard to make ends meet, hard to pay the bills, hard to put food on the table. We struggled every day, argued about money, and I felt hopeless most of the time.
One night I heard a knock on my front door, which we rarely use, so I listened intently before hearing another rapid knock a few seconds later. I turned on the porch light and didn't see anyone. I looked outside. No one.
I opened the door and heard the rustle of a plastic bag. I looked down and there were two plastic grocery bags overflowing with frozen, canned and boxed foods. On top was an envelope. I looked around my porch as I opened the envelope and found a beautiful card, which reminded me that "there are people who love you." It was signed, "People Who Care."
As tears filled my eyes, I looked around again before picking up the bags, bringing them inside and emptying their contents. As I opened my bare cabinets to place the cans and boxes inside, I smiled. This act of kindness, which may have been a small act for those who performed it, was a huge act for me. Not only did it fill my child's belly, but it reminded me that no matter how rough the road, no matter how severe the pain, there is always someone who cares. And eventually, the past will be behind us. We will overcome with the help of those who love us. No matter how long, no matter how dark, no matter how cold the night, the sun will rise.
And it has. We still struggle sometimes, as I know we will throughout life. But at the end of the day, I always have people who care. And that's what really matters.
So I ask you this: what's the nicest thing YOU have ever done for someone else?

Another Crazy Dream

I'm unfolding each of my teeth. As they unfold, layer by layer, their tentacles start to drop lower and lower until each tooth has become a bloody octopus, hanging from my gums. Their red and blue tentacles wriggle inside my mouth as I stare into the mirror and blood drips into the sink.
I turn on the faucet and form a bowl with my hands, lower my head and rinse the tentacles clean, over and over. The water flows red from my mouth, the angry octopus faces staring back at me when I look into the mirror.
I rinse again and again until the water finally runs clear. I tuck the thick tentacles inside my mouth, rinse off my face and pat it dry. I look into the mirror and smile. The tentacles have folded up neatly, once again resembling pure white teeth, creating a perfect smile.

Where Does the Time Go?

Have you ever stopped and thought, where has the time gone? It seems like just yesterday I was laying on the living room floor coloring Disney characters with my mom; speaking at my sixth grade "moving up" ceremony; meeting the man who's now my husband for the first time; graduating high school, college; getting married; seeing two pink lines on a little stick.
Now, I'm a wife and a mommy of a three-year-old boy who is growing up way too fast. In just two short years, he'll be waving goodbye and getting on the school bus for his first day of kindergarten. And man, am I going to cry like a baby...
I already get teary-eyed looking at pictures of Sebastian as a newborn. My little five-pound, six ounce baby boy who was so excited to come into this world that he did it six weeks before my due date. Now he's growing like a weed, telling me he wants to get married and become a fireman.
And before I know it, the time will come when I'm dancing with him on his wedding day, crying just as I had when I held him in my arms for the very first time.
So until that time comes, I'm going to try my best to spend every moment with my son as wisely as I possibly can. I'm going to catch fireflies with him and push him on the swing. I'm going to have picnics with him in the living room when it's too rainy outside to play. I'll put up a tent in the backyard and campout with him after toasting marshmallows on a fire and making s'mores. I'll hug him every chance I get and always kiss him goodnight.
Although I may get upset with him sometimes, I'll love him unconditionally. And when my patience are wearing thin, I'll always try to remember that there's no use crying over spilled milk. After all, milk can be replaced, but I'll never get back lost time with my baby boy.

My Worst Nightmare

I'm sitting in my car on top of a mountain, looking out over the town I live in. I have the top down and I'm staring into the clear horizon full of millions of bright stars. The only thing missing from the sky is the moon. There isn't a cloud in the sky, but the moon just isn't there.
A huge ball of fire crashes into the town below. Another and another. Four. Five. Flames lick the black canvas above. Smoke blocks the light of the stars.
I can't breathe. I can't think. My parents are down there sleeping. My husband. Oh my God. My baby boy.
I call my parents' phones. My husband's. Nothing. I'm going to be sick. I fumble with the door handle and finally push my car door open just before emptying my stomach.
I call my nana. Tears finally escape. I hyperventilate before I start to dry heave, nothing left in my stomach.
The town burns and am helpless, left alone to watch everyone I love die.

What's NY Got That I Ain't Got?

I took a day trip to NYC the other day and did a lot of walking, passing a lot of restaurants with outdoor seating. I must say that I was a bit shocked and pleasantly surprised to see people having conversations with those they were sharing their meals with. A while ago I wrote about cell phone use during meals and how it's more common than not to see people on their cell phones rather than spending time and talking with those they're at the table with. I've already threatened to take my parents' and husband's cell phones away during meals because they're constantly on Facebook or YouTube while we're at a restaurant (sometimes even at home!). There isn't a restaurant I've been to in my area where I haven't seen more than half of the diners on their cell phones. So, I was shocked when I didn't see anyone in NYC ignoring those they were eating with because their eyes were too attached to their cell phones. It's the City That Never Sleeps. The place where "slow" is not a word. If there were a place where I would have guessed people put their phones away during meals, it would be the south, not NYC. Don't get me wrong, I did see a lot of cell phone use in the city. Almost every single person I saw alone had either ear or head phones. Others were playing Candy Crush on the subway or yelling at the person they were talking to on the phone. Some were sending text messages or taking pictures of themselves in front of the Freedom Tower or the apartment featured in Sex in the City. But I don't recall seeing one person ditch his/her date for a cell phone. What a nice thing to see. People having conversations and laughing over meals. When I was younger, the dinner table was a place to share stories about how our day went and what we learned at school. Now, the dinner table has become just another place to watch Justin Beiber get hit in the head with a water bottle or text your girlfriend who just dropped you off five minutes ago. The art of conversation is slowly dying and becoming abbreviations like LOL and OMG; tiny pictures of yellow faces with various expressions. You don't even have to answer the question "What are you doing?" on Facebook anymore; you simply click on an icon and choose how you're feeling, what you're playing, where you are, what you're listening to. It's bad enough that people don't speak to each other anymore, but now we're not even writing. Sometimes I think cave men talked to each other more than we speak to our parents, our spouses, our children. I have lived in a small town in PA my whole life and rarely went any farther than neighboring NJ. My first visit to NYC was this past December when I took a bus trip with my family and friends before Christmas. I have been there twice and I enjoy going and seeing all there is to see, but at the end of the day, I want everything my tiny town has to offer: back roads bordered by corn fields, dirt roads in the middle of state game lands, corner stores I can walk to and grocery stores I can drive my own personal vehicle to--and shop for a week, rather than a day because otherwise I'd have too many things to carry back to my apartment and haul up the elevator to the 27th floor. But there is one thing I saw in The Big Apple that I wish would catch on like wild fire in my small town: the art of conversation and enjoying the company of those you love.

A Moving Conversation Between Pen Pals

Hello Sarah!!!!! I have been late to write but not late sending love and prayers. I too relish being pen pals. Didn’t know young folks like you still call it that ;). Brobber Bill had a setback last week when they installed the port for chemotherapy. He ended up aspirating and was on life support for 24 hours kept in a medically induced coma. Crazy scary. His 19 year old daughter Katie has been here for a visit (his request and my joy). It’s been an emotional ride and I cherish every moment of it. Just spoke with Bill this morning who remains in a spirit of hope… finding the good in the recent emergency…. “They gave me blood transfusions and steroids and actually I feel stronger than I did before… and therefore more prepared for the chemotherapy” God bless him and all that are praying for him… thank YOU! Katie and I traveled to Virginia to spend time with Mom before she goes into an Assisted Living next month … the time…well, a gift. While she has fear about her transition she is accepting and aware it is the best next step. So grateful… but sad too about her coming to the last chapter… truly none of know when that is but with old age it is a given. Katie flies home tomorrow. I hope her visit leaves her in a position of hope and possibility. “I am too young to deal with mortality”… yes indeed. It’s exhausting to grow up even at my “advanced age”. Hope you are doing well and loving every day with that wonderful family of yours. Enjoy the sunshine! Love, Mary

Wow... life is amazing, isn't it? I continue to pray for your brother and his loved ones, including you! If your family is anything like you, I know you will all be just fine!! It's hard to accept getting older and eventually losing ones you love, especially when those you lose aren't old at all. My father's cousin just passed away last week and he was only in his 40s. A vein in his heart burst and he was shocked back to life about 7 times on the way to the hospital. By the time the doctors fixed his heart, his brain was too damaged and they said he wouldn't come out of the coma. As hard as it was for his parents and siblings, his quick death seemed to be a blessing in disguise, as the doctors learned that he had brain cancer that day, as well... So here I am, home with my son during the day and soaking up every minute of it!! It's a really hard financial struggle for us, but being with my son and sharing these precious moments with him are what really matter. Hell, neither of us are "old" by any standards, but time sure has flown by quickly. He's three years old already and before I know it, he'll be in school. I will NEVER get this time back. And if there's one thing I would regret more than anything else, it would be missing out on the time I have with my child. I can make money later. Time doesn't slow down and it doesn't wait. Sebastian was born 6 weeks early and could barely keep himself warm, let alone eat on his own... And now, just the little things make me smile because he is smart, healthy... perfect! I watched him eat a bowl of cereal today and smiled... There are so many children who will never be able to feed themselves... So many children who will always be dependent on their parents... children who will always be... children. I thank God every day that my son and my family are healthy. That we're able to use our limbs and our senses... So yes, there are times when my bank account is overdrawn and I don't have any savings for emergencies (although I did just revamp by already-too-strict budget lol)... there are times when I'd like to order a pizza rather than eating left over spaghetti... but that can wait. My son can't. When my time comes and God calls me home, I won't be able to take money with me anyway. But what I can do is leave something behind. Memories. Memories that my son will be able to hold on to forever. And THAT'S what truly matters. Hmmm... I just may have to post this email on my blog... which is kind of similar to the last one I posted, but that's ok. :) This was nice. Getting all this out. Sometimes I do feel bad that we don't have extra money and I need to remind myself that the choice I made is the right one. Thanks for listening. :) SO!!! I will continue to pray for you, your brother, his daughter, your family!!! And if you ever do get on Facebook, be sure to like these two pages: 56 Sarah Street and Together We Pray. Oh, and look me up, too ;) PS: You'll be happy to know that.... I PLANTED FLOWERS! Boy, do I LOVE watching them grow! The first thing I do every morning when I get up is walk outside and see how many morning glory blooms I have. It really is beautiful. :) OK!! I'm done "talking" your ear off! Can't wait to hear back from you :) S <3

What Will You Leave Behind?

The last two faces I see at night before I go to sleep are those of my grandparents, Pappy Chuck and Grammy Theresa. I have a photo of them together on my beside table and it always makes me smile to see them together, as I know they are now in heaven.
When my grandmother passed away five years ago, my family joked that my grandfather was waiting for her at the kitchen table in heaven, and when she arrived, he'd say, "It's about time, Theresa! I'm hungry!"
My grandmother was old school and believed that dinner should be on the table for her husband when he got home from work. While I don't have as many memories of my grandfather as I do of my grandmother--he passed away when I was six--I do remember that he'd stare straight ahead while he ate at the table, which meant an entire meal of feeling uncomfortable for whoever say across from him! He'd also wait until the bread started growing mold before he'd eat it. To this day, I have no idea why.
And then there's my grandma. I miss her so much and think of her constantly, especially now that I'm a mom. I know Sebastian would have loved her and she would have loved spoiling him!
It's the little things that remind me most of her. Like the smell of fried onions, like those in her homemade pierogies. Pumpkin rolls that every one would buy from her for Thanksgiving. Pears, which were the very last thing I fed her before she passed away.
Bingo and yard sales, where you'd better not get in her way or try to overcharge her! Her famous punch bowl dessert, which my mom made this past 4th of July. Artificial Christmas trees, like the one I used to put together for her every year.
I miss her more and more as I get older and begin to truly appreciate who she was, the way she did things, her unconditional love. And I know I can't turn back time, but I wish I had been there more often, asked her about her childhood, how she met my grandfather, what she did when she realized she was going to be a mother. I wish I would have listened more.
But all I can do now is take what I have and hold on to it. I can look at her picture every night and see her smile, knowing that I can make memories with my son the way she made memories with me. Like the time we made funnel cake and the batter was too thick. Or the time we were making cookies and I spilled the contents of the mixing bowl, including an egg, onto her shoe and the floor.
I can talk to my son, even though he may not always be listening. I can tell him about the amazing woman who is his great grandmother. I can teach him to ask questions, to soak up every moment he has with his grandparents and great grandparents. With me and his daddy. Because one day, we will all be nothing more in this world than smiling faces in photos. But the memories we leave behind for those to hold onto are the most important things of all.