Happiness is…a rose by any other name

So, we’re married for one whole week and many people have weighed in on our life changes; friends, family, colleagues, and neighbors; of course when you write a blog, that’s what you should expect.

What I didn’t expect is how many people would vicariously feel the delight and love created by our union. Two lives that have been joined as one based on love and mutual respect. The look on the faces of our friends and family has been incredible; their personal responses; the true tears of joy; the genuine emotion expressed has been staggering.

I am old fashioned and so is Joe.  We knew what marriage meant to us and all marriages are a private affair to some extent; a personal expression of love and respect but the reaction from our close friends and family was astonishing  with barely an exception..

At first some of them were stunned; asking if we were sure about this life change. For Joe and I, there were no reservations but for some others; there were a few caution flags thrown.  Is it too soon after the death of Jeremy? You two are fine as you are; why get married?

It is true that we were fine as we were but we are, in fact, better for our marriage than even I would have expected.

I am in the process of changing my legal name which is a fairly substantial effort.  Once again; most of our community said; you don’t need to do this but that’s not why I am.

In my world and time, when you marry someone; you should give your entire self to him as he has to me.  The small effort of showing that I belong only to him is the least I can do to show my love and affection.

When you truly love someone; that emotion; that feeling is added to your heart in such as way that it doesn’t disrupt your previous loves and life experiences; it enhances them; it rekindles them; there is nothing like the feeling of true love and the smile that goes with it...

Getting married was starting a new chapter in our lives.  It has awakened strong memories; good ones; a rebirth of our lives together; an enhancement of our souls.

My mother always told me that love was never wrong and commitment is the signature of strength and fidelity. So here I am: in my 60's smiling....happiness is marrying Joe.

Happiness is….when your heart is filled to the brim

As many of you know, I was married to Joe yesterday.  We have been together for almost eight years and I have grown to love him with all my heart and soul.  Two weeks ago, he brought me to one of my favorite childhood places in Morgan Park in Glen Cove where I grew up near the beach. I used to call it my castle. He was so filled with emotion when he dropped to one knee and I was stunned and my eyes welled up with tears of joyfulness.

We spoke of marriage in the past but the idea and the ideal seemed far away.  After the death of my son, my soul was filled with “the horrible nothing that all parents feel at the death of their child;” an emptiness almost too difficult to describe; a void that seemed endless. 

There is an old proverb that says, “When your heart is empty; that is the time something wonderful can come into your life and fill your heart with passion and joy if you let it.” 

If walking on air were a reality; I’d been at least ten feet off the ground today.  Although our day to day lives will look very similar to the day to day before we said our vows; we still have changed (for the better.)

The most wonderful part has been the reaction of our friends and family; the outpouring of love; the congratulations; the prayers of love and joy from everyone has been overwhelming.  It’s amazing how this simple act of commitment has engendered such a positive reaction from so many.

When people say marriage is becoming a thing of the past; don’t you believe it!  Marriage is still and will always be the act of true compassion, love, commitment and joy that can be shared by so many.  The joy I feel today is a composite picture of the many encouraging reactions we have seen and heard from others.

Thank you friends and family for being so wonderful in your responses to our news. 

So remember, when your heart is so empty that is the time God can fill it with something special if you let him…just look at me…

Happiness is being married to my Joey.

Happiness is learning to see with your heart…

People ask me how I survive the days post Jeremy; my response is direct and simple: long ago I learned to see things with my heart instead of my eyes.  My heart has grown throughout my life; leading me to unexpected  paths and has taught me how to live on in spite of life's difficulties by immersing myself in life's joys both present and in the past.

You see, my heart always tells the truth but my eyes seem to lie occasionally or so I believe.  For instance, whenever I look in the mirror, I have a hard time reconciling the face I see.  Who is that “older woman” looking back at me? She smiles a lot like I do.  She has wise eyes like I do but she is just a bit different than my heart tells me I am.   

Most of the time, I am  35 in my mind and heart.  It was a good age for me: professionally experienced; personally experienced; and happy with my life.  I was going in the right direction.

Jeremy was 5 then and a most inquisitive and engaging child; fun to be with and distinctly different from me and his dad.  It was exciting to watch him grow and develop.   It was fun to hear him talk about everything; he was prolific!

When Jeremy was born, though, my heart opened in a way I did not quite understand; I started to see with my soul, my emotion; to replace my common ocular experience with a depth I did not yet understand.  My heart became so full of joy; explosive, raging, constantly aware that by the time he was five,   my heart was  my leading ocular device.

When you see with your heart, you feel joy at the smallest detail which may be easily missed by your eyes.  Your heart adds the emotional quotient each time which is like "smellorama" or some such device enhancing the quality of your visual experience. 

Of course, there are a few disadvantages to heart sight:  you feel more of everything but your memories are more vivid and permanent this way. 

Your eyes have learned to ignore so much of life; they are mere catalogers of your daily experience but your heart etches the encounter into your permanent emotional memory where it is stored for display for the remainder of your life. 

Your joys are brighter and your sadness may be more difficult to withstand at times but the value of human life etching is essential to personal growth and in maintaining your “humanness” and joy throughout your life despite the challenges thrown your way.

So I say, see with your heart…you’ll say "thanks for the permanently etched memories."

Is Grief a form of happiness?

As most of you know, my son died from cancer recently.   As a result, I am grieving and on some days I’m great and others not so.  Grief is a personal experience and is different for each and every one of us.  In our American culture, we honestly don’t know what to do with grief and so we hide behind platitudes and useless expressions of condolences without really understanding the true nature of the grieving process.

When I see people or speak with them on the phone, I find that they don’t know what to say.  I understand this as I have had the same experience as a friend of a grieving one.

I have several observations that I would like to share.  First and foremost, when you don’t know what to say, that is a sign to listen to the other person.  Some of us who are grieving need to talk, to remember; to think about our recently lost loved one.  We know you don’t want to hear any gruesome details about the end of our loved one’s life and, in fact, we don’t want to share these as well.

So many people have a need to tell me their stories and that is natural as well although I, personally, am not ready for anyone’s else’s death stories as I am too deeply engrossed in my own reality. Still there are others who feel the need to tell me how much worse it’ll be in the years to come.  Is this really something you want or need to say to me?  Do I need to have more dread of the future?  To be honest, the future does not scare me and I know, for me, it will not get worse; there is no worse for me to experience in my life.  The loss of child is the unhappiest experience with no bottom to the pit of despair; but I choose to be immersed in my positive memories and private joys of my life with him instead.

Others are afraid of talking to me at all so they change the subject as quickly as possible.  Still others are squeamish and perhaps the word “cancer” sets them to fear and distress and they don’t want to share with the grieving person. I, myself, cannot listen to a cancer commercial (and there are loads of them on TV) so I mute the TV and I guess that is normal.

Some people are afraid to share their joys, grandchildren stories or just family stories.  I love hearing about your families and how wonderful your lives are.  I am not jealous of your lives or personal joys and I ask you all to tell me every detail with a broad smile and enthusiasm.

So what do I want from my friends and family?  I like to remember my son as a vibrant, intelligent, and much loved individual; one whom was famous or infamous for his fast talking; fast eating; life that amazed so many.  I enjoy thinking of him as a child, a teen, and an adult.  I enjoy remembering some of our fights, our laughs, and our average days together.  Most of my memories are of Jeremy ages 0-21 since that is the range of time we lived together (if you count college as living together).

My memories are beautiful, vivid and distinct and bring a smile and a few tears to my eyes.  I enjoy celebrating who he was to me and to others.  I love hearing from his friends who tell me about their distinct memories.  Everyday is an “Our Town” day for me striving to recollect the most insignificant day and enjoy that day as a perfect memory.  So if you don’t know what to say, just listen… and let me share my beautiful son with you.

What’s in a name? What’s in a number? Here are ten thoughts I have about growing older and maybe wiser…

I am sixty-two….62….6 decades plus two more years but what does that mean?  Numbers are supposed to add up but how does age equivocate to life passage? Well I am not sure about the full definition because I have learned to count my years in terms of learning rather than time travel.

What have I learned so far? 

Number one:  Well, I am not always right; this was a tough one for me cause I balanced my days on being right and now I know the truth, I am sometimes wrong.  Well this is not really a big discovery but I have been fighting it for decades and now I have come to peace with it.

Number two:  the older I get, the more I feel:  tired, a little arthritic, a little less likely to get up and exercise, and a little less “get up and go.”  I assume my body is a little tired so I read more; in fact, I read a lot and that’s a good thing;  “Game of Thrones”, anyone?

Number three:  I don’t hear my mother’s voice in my head.  I hear all these women say that they do but I don’t, does that make me different or not the norm?  Guess what, I don’t care.

Number four:  I care less and less and less what other people think of me or anything for that matter.  I leave others to their own thoughts and definitions of life; I like mine; it’s easier not to care of others and their persnickety ways.  (Not my mother’s word in case you were wondering).

Number five:  I have rid myself of those others who burden my life.  I am not “everyone’s cup of tea” (my mother did say this but so did everyone in her time) and so I leave those others who don’t care for me to themselves to stew and talk about each other without me.  I assume it makes them happier and me a lot happier.

Number six:  I love my son more than I love any other person and I think that is how it should be.

Number seven:  I accept my mistakes and move on and I mean move on.  So what if I had not lived my life perfectly (have you or anyone else?)  I just don’t feel its necessary to relive or review my imperfections.

Number eight:  Sunny days are better than rainy ones and there are always more sunny days than rainy ones; I haven’t actually counted but I think I am right about this so if it’s raining, wait the sun will come back.  Patience is a virtue worth cultivating.

Number nine:  I like certain activities:  writing, riding my bike, being with Joe, seeing my friends, looking at happy pictures of my past, playing with The Zeff, reading, and driving to the beach so I think I am going to do more of these and less of other things.

Number ten:  I prefer foods that taste good, that are good for me, and ones that may actually prolong my life because I love living regardless of the pain or anxiety that life may direct my way; remember rule number eight; the sun will shine again and if not, I hear you can buy a special lamp that gives you the equivalent of pure sunshine.

Be happy, be sunny, and do what you like in life that makes you happy; don’t wait until you are 62….

Mother's Day....my favorite day.

Happy Mother’s Day to all!

My son lives on the west coast and many people say, “Don’t you miss him since he lives so far away?  Giving this much thought, I say, “No” because I see my son everyday and everywhere.

I see him in the affectionate smiles of a pregnant woman as she rubs her belly unconsciously. 

I see him in the sparkling eyes of an infant who stares at his mother in church. 

I hear my son’s voice in the unmistakable babbling of “da da da” as a child reaches for a toy in the supermarket aisle.

I see my son in the morning sunlight and can distinctly hear him on my side of the bed saying, “Come on mom let’s play and be quiet cause we don’t want to wake dad.”

I see my son playing at the beach with a serious look on his face as he piles wet sand into his bucket attempting the architecture of a lifetime.

I see my son catching leaves in the backyard; making up some complicated game and talking quietly to himself.

I see my son going on his first date with trepidation and excitement.

I see my son staring at the evening sky waiting for a meteor with patience and enthusiasm.

I see my son escaping high school with his mother for a Star Trek movie.

I see my son in every skateboarder that goes by.

I see my son in London, Paris, Greece, Turkey and Costa Rica and, most importantly, in our backyard.

I see my son in every handsome young face unblemished by life’s trials.

I see my son as a man; good, wise, and reverent to all.

I see my son as a husband, caring and loving with eyes of admiration for his wife.

I see my son everywhere in all that is good and kind.  I don’t miss my son because he is far away; I have him with me everyday and always.