"Lessons in Uncle Jake's Passing"

            Yesterday, my husband and I attended the funeral of his great uncle, a great man. Uncle Jake was 97 years old. Up until the last few years, he was vital. It was only most recently dementia got the best of him. While I only knew him in the way you typically know someone else s great uncle, I came away from the wake and funeral knowing him on a far greater scope than before.
           What I saw and heard about him spoke volumes.  His wake, at 8PM  on Friday night, was still streaming with people. People from the old neighborhood of Lackawanna were present. This was a man who was there when Lackawanna had a certain steel plant that was the heart of the city and thriving. The people of his community, his neighborhood in Orchard Park,where he and Aunt Mary raised their children, were present. The children his children grew up with, were there with their children. They spoke of the home that gladly welcomed them and was always full of good food and fun. He and his wife, Aunt Mary, were the hospitable sort. Laughing loudly telling his stories and openly weeping over their loss, Aunt Mary, his family, and his friends, were there in strong standing, celebrating his life. His brother and his sister, both at least in their eighties, but looking far younger, were present. In my husband's family, they call it coming from strong stock.

       It got me thinking a lot about those older members of our families that do live into their 90's and what  "strong stock" is about.   For Uncle Jake, I believe it had to do with so many things. He had a strong faith; a strong marriage (this would have been year 60 of marriage for he and Aunt Mary); a loving and close relationship with his children, his other family members, and his friends. His sense of humor was legendary. At his 90th birthday party, the family hired a belly dancer to dance at his party. Expressing his gratitude and delight, he said he would say thank you in both Polish and English for those who didn't understand Polish. With a big grin he said," Dziekuje, very much!"  Uncle Jake had an incredible work ethic.This was a man who toiled for many years at the Ford Stamping Plant. When he was  not toiling hard at the plant, it was at home in his garden, in his yard,  or on some sort of machine he had torn apart. When his one daughter ran a florist shop, he worked in her shop helping her. --And this was in his late 80's!!  But it wasn't all work and no play. There was always time for family, friends, a joke, and a story or two.
        While part of coming from strong stock may be lucky genetics, I do believe a great part of it is choice and perspective in life. It is doing those things that make you feel most alive, but having quiet dignity and faith where and when you most need it. It's about connecting to those around you in a meaningful way and both strengthening and being strengthened by your family and friends. This was Uncle Jake. I can only hope and strive to be more like him.

Room for Me with Three?!: My Ode to Quality Sleep, Circa 2002

Room for Me with Three?!: My Ode to Quality Sleep, Circa 2002: " There was a time when sleep was normal, or ..."

Room for Me with Three?!: My Ode to Quality Sleep, Circa 2002

Room for Me with Three?!: My Ode to Quality Sleep, Circa 2002: " There was a time when sleep was normal, or ..."

My Ode to Quality Sleep, Circa 2002

                 There was a time when sleep was normal, or at least normal for someone like me who tends to be a night owl. I could rely on six and a half to seven hours sleep per night.  I think that was circa 2003 or make that 2002, before I was pregnant with Allison. It was the era of Bush and children were just a twinkle in my eye.
              Two children later, with one on the way, sleep means it is a special night. Special in the sense that I hit the hay at a normal time without crashing out on the couch or some other soft place, like my children's bed or besides my husband at eight o'clock (he gets up for work when most people are still sleeping). That would be all fine if that was the end of the night. But  I wake with that sense of what still needs to be done. Usually, there are lunches to be made; other things to do; and a desperate urge to fulfill something resembling me time at the end of the day.  So I get up and then can not fall back asleep. My sleep resembles Lake Erie on a windy day.
       My girls say funny things to me like," Mama did you put makeup on under your eyes to make them look dark,?"

     I know I am not alone. When your with a group of mommies what else dominates the conversation, but sleep. There will be a few years, perhaps in between elementary school and junior high, when sleep is not such an issue. But then it will return to the forefront and sleepless nights will take on a whole new meaning, come adolescence.

     I had all good intentions of watching the "State of the Union" address and the hockey game, but the sandman had his way with me again.  Truly sleep has become perverted from its original meaning.
   
 
              

Foxes, pheasants, home improvement, gratitude, and a little Jimi Hendrix

                 These are the quiet days of winter and type of Sunday that I enjoy the most. --Those days when the extraordinary is found in the ordinary. We were graced with a beautiful fox that was hunting for its breakfast this morning. As we gathered ours, I can only imagine what it was eating for Sunday brunch- a nice field mouse or three, with its news and coffee. We have seen many foxes the last  few year, pups and all.  I do not recall such an abundant fox population when I was young. But perhaps, I wasn't aware or foxy enough.
             Foxes aren't the only animal that visited the Kelly house today. Looking out by our round garden late this afternoon, I saw the largest, most brilliantly patterned pheasant I've ever seen in my life. It seemed to have touched down for a long lay over, before finding one of our box elders to perch in.   
           Mike was off and able to proceed with our perpetual state of home improvement and renovation. While I always joke and say I liked old homes until we had one, I can honestly say all the dust and plastic that has covered our house through the years has been worth it. There is a reason it is called home improvement and not house improvement, as all the changes, additions, and dry wall going up and down, bring us closer to our ideal home, and at least on most days  more appreciative of each others work, in our old home.
       The animals visited; Mike " home improved"; the wildflowers played beautifully with one another; and folding laundry and making dinner today became a meditative exercise in awareness and gratitude for all we have.
Now that's a Sunday!!

   




                

Room for Me with Three?!: The Tourist in Gray or otherwise described as deep...

Room for Me with Three?!: The Tourist in Gray or otherwise described as deep...: " Tiptoe Sidestep Duck &nb..."

The Tourist in Gray or otherwise described as deeper than Western New Snow, fair warning

        Tiptoe
        Sidestep
        Duck
        But diving wholeheartedly into gray.

        She can't put into words what she is feeling,
        But knows its nuanced by many shades.
      
        For now floating,
        soaking, luxuriating in these waters
        Until it's time to get out

Room for Me with Three?!: I am at that Weird Point of Pregnancy

Room for Me with Three?!: I am at that Weird Point of Pregnancy: " I have officially crossed that threshold.I am starting ..."

I am at that Weird Point of Pregnancy

               I have officially crossed that threshold.I am starting to believe in an alien abduction of my body, as that belly button could not possibly be mine.My old clothes don't want to fit right, but some maternity clothes look like I am playing dress up in Bobo the Clown's closet. People don't know whether to congratulate me or give me a brochure for weight watchers, as either I am pregnant or forcing myself into clothes too small for me.
              I have officially crossed that threshold. I can have entire hours dominated by thoughts of chicken finger subs or scrambled eggs doused with the perfect amount of salt. Separate stops are made for tacos or make that burritos with extra refried beans.
             I have officially crossed that threshold. Babies I know and don't know seem to sense I will soon be lactating and turn around and smile at me.
             I have officially crossed that threshold. My bladder can fill up more quickly with water than my old farm house basement during a down pour.
             I have officially crossed that threshold. In spite of all these things, my belly is fully of flutters, that will soon be kicks. I am nearing 20 weeks and I can hardly wait!!!

Why it's too many chocolate chip cookies, plus lots of garlic today

            Some people live to eat. Others eat to live. I am of the former category, especially during pregnancy and wintertime.  Yes even when I am not pregnant, my snowy thoughts are often on food. Chocolate, bread, pasta, sushi, chicken dumplings, you name it. Oh yes and pair it with a nice glass of wine.
         Okay come pregnancy, come more thoughts of food, minus the wine. Or maybe it's more thoughts of food, because there can not be the wine. All I know is that I am lucky there is not an indent on my pregnant self for reaching into the cookie bowl, one hundred too many times.
       For fear of bodily injury and further incident, I switched to making a pasta dish with lots of garlic.In fact, I probably would have used more if there had been more.Thank God there was enough romano cheese to stop with the pasta and garlic, and not go back to chocolate chip cookies. If there had been any left....
           

Winter wonders and the wild flowers

           The softest snow
           Butterfly kisses
           Tender cuddles
           The impasse between morning
           And morning
           Little girls and a brand new day

A minivan, middle age, and a full fledged mama

              I am an official mini van owner. Does that make me an official middle aged adult? Is youth officially over when::
             1)  After a Pearl Jam song, my husband and I start to reminisce about the college days and our van is passed by a hot little car.
             2) I start calling cars hot little cars.
             3) When going from my G6 to Dodge Grand Caravan, my first sensation is that of driving a fleet van.
             4) When going from my other car to the G6, I felt younger and hipper.
             5) When clubbing it now means joining the minivan club.
             6) I am not an anomaly when dropping off my daughter at school.
             7) When pictures of owning a car again run alongside pictures of my retirement years.
             8) When a recent article about a resurgence in minivans in The New York Times makes me feel slightly edgy.              
             9) When my youngest starts sentences with, "When I am a mama and have a minivan..."
            10) I have given such thought to a vehicle's image and could write about it.

Thoughts a Jumble

         This post was going to be a humorous, self-effacing look at my new minivan and all that it entails. That must be put on pause. I will come back to that next time, as there's some good times to be had poking fun of thyself in thy van.

        In all seriousness....
:
          Prayers, reflection, and some serious contemplation are in order after the events in Tuscon, Arizona. What is becoming of us as a country when in a reflection of its worst attributes: reality reduced to  fear and hate mongering by talk radio; reality reduced to the non reality of our reality show-like culture,mindset, and attention span, and the crazy rants of another person,  set to destroy someone else  and many other someones on a you tube video;  reality reduced by the prolific amounts of guns in this country, that are too easy for someone who shouldn't have one to have one; and reality reduced by violence and the sheer prevalence of it in this country, coalesce and cause a deranged man to take six lives and threaten 14 others? The current divisiveness is an abscess  in our country, that will destroy our best ideals if it is allowed to continue. May this be a wake up call to all our leaders and to all of us who want our country and ourselves to be our best country and our best selves.

Peace,

Nicole

Today's burning question or otherwise known as entry one

Okay, so I am going to try the blogging thing again. I have returned to that itch, scratch, urge to write. It's amazing what getting over initial nausea in early pregnancy can do. I seemed to have returned more to my prepregnant self, bent on creating something bigger and beyond myself in words. Okay, my girls, the wildflowers are certainly that, as is my marriage, but you know that self that asserts itself and sometimes gets in your way. It's been elbowing me like mad lately, and saying,"What with you right now, Nicole?"

So enters the burning question. What is enough? When are you completely fulfilled, Nicole? The sage within the self that elbows me and then checks me like a hockey player says, " Feed your soul! It's okay to sometimes want more." The self that has a broken nose and other broken parts says. "You expect too much. You want too much. It's all right before you."   But then that self starts squinting and looking for remnants of me, before kids, who was a wildflower just like my girls.

So I invite you to comment about this post; follow my blog; and get philosophical, silly, and a little smart ass with me from time to time.

Not starving herself of this glorious sunshine and don't you either,

Nicole