Riding the Roller Coaster with Marlboro Man

Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve blogged. My emotions have been riding this roller coaster, which is mostly engineered of twisting downhill turns and long plunging dives. These past few weeks have been a rackety ride with double dips and zero-g rolls. I didn’t want anyone buy a ticket to my mental ride. Refunds would have been requested.

I admit, a lot of my emotional turmoil could be attributed to PMS. Hating on my friends, exasperation with my family, no patience with work or the commute or the stupidity of life. Well, I’ve bled and I’m feeling better. Better, but still sad.

We lost J.

John Garino- musician, researcher, Big Bottom, grizzly bear, Indian Food lover, Groomsman, Guinness drinker, bucket-game player, doctoral student and good friend- passed away February 13th. It was already a sad day because it was my Mom’s first birthday in Heaven. J went to sleep on Thursday and never woke up.

No one got to say good-bye.

Being friends with J was like being in an exclusive club that everyone belonged to. He always made you feel like you were the funniest, smartest, most talented person he knew. Yet he travelled in such wide circles of life making friends wherever he went. You could go a long time not talking to J but the next time you saw him was like coming home. You fell into such an easy patter with him because he was so easy to talk to.

He was the smartest person you never realized you knew.

The guy playing bass in a punk band. The guy at the bar having a little too much to drink. The guy smoking a butt covered with tattoos. The guy at the Yankee game yelling at the umpire. You wouldn’t think this guy would be as brilliant as J was. Getting first his BS in History, then his Master’s in Library Science while working IT at St. John's University. Deciding to pursue his PhD so he could teach. He was at home in the classroom as well as the stage. But did he show off his smarts? Was he obnoxious about how much he knew? Nope. Most people upon meeting J never realized how intelligent he was. Sure, he would debate baseball, religion, music and politics with you. But you never came out of an argument mad or exasperated at him. He would show up at your door with home-brewed beer or his mom's Irish Soda Bread and never looked for praise. He was unassuming to a fault.

There’s a special place in my heart for J. He was practically the only one of MR’s friends I met when I first started going with MR that didn’t make me feel uncomfortable because I had two kids. He made me feel at home with the guys (we were on the dart team) and when he came out to the beach house, he played endlessly with the kids- humoring them in their made up games. He coined the persona I use to this day- Mamasoo, bad spelling and all, because I was the one with the kids. And it never bothered him like it bothered so many of MR’s other friends and family members. I will always be grateful to him for that.

It’s hard to accept that he’s gone from our lives. What will happen to Norman Bates and the Showerheads? I listen to his “Rock of J Bralter” CD over and over, appreciating more and more what a great musician he was.

Yes, my life is dimmer now that he’s not here. But living “The J-way”by accepting everyone (faults and all), living life to it’s fullest and learning new things will definitely make my life brighter. It’ll be hard, but I’m really going to try. I wonder if Guinness helps?


Rest in Heavenly Peace, J. You'll be missed.

It Was A Very Odd Day...

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I wanted to post this yesterday but I was mentally exhausted. Physically, too, since I was up really early in the morning. I zoned out watching The Next Iron Chef America and couldn't muster enough energy to tell you about my day.

I had a knot in my stomach all morning getting ready to go to church. I was a little nervous going back to the church I grew up in since I haven't been there for eight years. I left a few friends and a few un-friends behind. I was a little nervous seeing Dad- how he's going to react to all this- it is his 50th Anniversary, after all. I was a little nervous at how the family and I would react letting mom go...

Church was fine- nothing changed. Mrs. Daniellson got me all choked up when she came over and gave me a big hug. She was the sweet lady who made Zombiegirl's beautiful baby blanket 10 years ago. Laura hasn't changed- still talking up a storm. Everyone asked how old the girls were, and some asked where Obdurate Daughter was. Instead of going into detail, MR told everyone she was a Buddist, and doesn't attend Lutheran churches anymore.

We didn't stay for the coffee hour afterwards. Dad's not much for socializing. We went back to his house to wait for Pastor Baum. A few sips of coffee, Pastor's here, we're ready to go.

Okay. Let's do this.

We walked over to the park which is basically across the street. It was an absolutely gorgeous day. The sun was out, the bay was a sparkling blue. We went down to the water's edge- standing on a little ridge of sand. Ducks swam by quacking, but stopped when we approached.

Pastor read from Psalms, then after we let the plane from Kennedy airport fly overhead, we said the Lord's Prayer. The ducks joined in quacking louder as we prayed. Pastor took the urn from Dad, and flung the ashes out over the water. Some landed in the water, some landed on the sand. The water, which had been calm, washed over the little ridge twice to take the rest of the ashes out to sea. We had to step back so the waves wouldn't wash over our feet. Once all the ashes were gone, the waves stopped. We all commented on that.

It was sadly beautiful and very touching. Mom would have loved it.

After thanking Pastor, we went to the diner for brunch. Subdued and quiet (amid the diner's constant chatter) we had our omelettes (shrimp cocktail for Z-girl) and we went back to Dad's. I think he held up pretty well. It helped that it was a nice day So we have tomorrow to get through and the closure is complete.

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad. It was the first one you were apart in 50 years.

Back to the Earth

Pssst. Wake up. I can't sleep. It's 4:00 in the morning, I've been tossing and turning for an hour. It's fruitless to stay in bed, so here I am. Watching "Milk' with Sean Penn and telling you about the strange, sad day I have ahead of me.

I'm letting go of my mother today.

We're scattering some of Mom's ashes into the Bay today.

We're celebrating what would have been Mom and Dad's golden Anniversary today.

I'm going back to my roots today.

My mom passed away eight months ago from synovial sarcoma. She suffered for two years with debilitating tumors in her neck and face. Surgery and radiation didn't slow this cancer down- it caught up with her, wasted her away and killed her.

At the end, she couldn't talk, so she would write notes to Dad. I would go over and she'd have notes waiting for me. One of these notes was her last wish for her funeral- she wanted to be cremated so no one could see what she looked like, then she wanted her ashes scattered into Jamaica Bay. She wanted her final resting place to be the place where she grew up. Where she lived as a young bride. Where she raised her children. Where she died.

Her wake was lovely. Her ashes were in a pretty blue urn, surrounded by yellow roses from Dad. We had a picture of her next to the urn, and a Star Trek pin pinned to the vestment covering the stand the urn was on. Picture boards of her and Dad on their trip across country in the "Marshmallow" and to Hawaii were standing next to the flowers from her family and friends. Bowls over her favorite candy- Jelly Beans- were set up around the room.

The funeral home had never done anything like this before. Usually the body is cremated after the wake in a coffin that costs close to $1,000. My Nana Frances was cremated before the funeral, and Mom liked that idea. I plan to follow in their footsteps. It was so tastefully done. No badly made up bodies for the masses to gawk at. No coffin to purchase. I know a dozen people who don't go up to the body at a funeral. Face it, it's uncomfortable! I want to go one further and not even involve a funeral home. I'd like a memorial service at my church then a party. Not that I have anything against funeral homes and morticians. I just think they take advantage of the bereaved. People think they have no other options except to mourn the recently deceased for three days and nights at a funeral home stuffed with flowers that are thrown away after the funeral. Don't buy me flowers. Buy a 6-pack of beer, drink up and remember my life!

Mom changed her mind in a note a few days later. She said she wanted some of her ashes let go into the bay and the rest interred into the niche they purchased next to my brother in Pinelawn Cemetary. So on Tuesday, we're putting the rest of Mom to rest behind a pink marble wall next to her son she said good-bye to 20 years ago.

I gonna need my hankie.

Dad's been keeping the ashes at home. He mentioned a few months ago that he wanted to scatter the ashes soon. I knew their 50th Anniversary was coming up, so I suggested we do it on that day. He's going to be sad anyway- we should celebrate and do something special. So today, we're all going to St. Barnabas for the service this morning, then we're meeting Pastor Baum at the beach in Charles Park. Mom had asked Beena if she would read a specific poem, but we're saving that for Tuesday. We'll say a prayer, then set Mom free. I was planning on throwing them a huge 50's dance for their Anniversary. Instead we'll go out for a quiet lunch. And prepare for another sad, strange day.

"By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return." Genesis 3:19

Tomorrow's Leaders

This bugs the crap out of me.

To recap: four men were arrested and one man was sought after a freshman at Hofstra University claimed she was gang-raped on a Sunday night. Supposedly she was lured away from a party, tied up and repeatedly raped by the five men in a bathroom on the men's floor of the dorm.

The men were arrested, their names and faces were in the newspapers, some were fired from their jobs and their families received hate mail.

Good, you may say. They deserved it! They're rapists!

But the weren't. The woman recanted her story, admitted she had group sex with these men and was not tied up. It was consensual. They were released.

This woman (girl) is a Freshman. This is the third week of college.

I understand the fear and uncertainty starting a new school. I didn't dorm while I was at college (although I should have) so I won't pretend I understand how scared a student may be living with strangers, in a strange town. I give my "adopted" kid, Katie, a LOT of credit moving to another state and living away from home. But I've gone to school on my own- meeting new people, new classes, getting lost in a huge environment where I felt very small, very young. I didn't have my parents to help me get situated. They never experienced college, so at the time, I didn't rely on them for any help. And I made mistakes as a Freshman. I admit it. I'm sure we all have. We were young and inexperienced at life, so it was bound to happen.

But...

Did I have group sex three weeks into the semester with men I didn't know? No.

Did I accuse anyone wrongfully, thus ruining lives in my wake? No.

What on earth was this girl thinking? What were these boys thinking? All five of you having sex with one girl? Is this okay? Where were you raised?

I am not a prude. I know sexual things go on in this world that would shock any rational thinking person. I know people have sex. I even know people have group sex. I know teenagers have sex. I know college life, to some, is one big party. But I want to find this girl, and shake some sense into her. You're a Freshman, I want to tell her. Your job is to go to class and learn- not to spread your legs for the whole men's dorm! If you want to fit in- join a club! Try a sport! Group sex is not on the curriculum! I would tell her it's okay to be scared and unsure. Sleeping around though is not going to make you popular or help you make new friends.

So, okay. You did have sex with these men. Why on earth would you accuse them? What is going on in your head to point a finger at innocent people and torture them with jail time?

This is one messed up girl. And she is not going to be charged- she cut a deal with the DA. I only hope that deal includes major therapy for this troubled teenager.

These are our leaders of tomorrow. Our future Master's of the Universe.

The universe has become a very bleak place.

Hittin' the Trail

Today's forcast on the Trail: cloudy, windy, chance of hurricanes. Maybe a tornado or two.

Gotta change my shoes. This weekend on the Trail left me with soaking feet, a sore back and eyes that feel like someone rubbed table salt in them.

Rest in peace, Anne Lord

My mom's best friend past away today. She was our Aunt Anne.

Anne and my mom were my Girl Scout Leaders for awhile. They hosted tables at the Calendar Party at St. Barnabas every year, and we went to ceramic class together for years. Anne was a regular at the Cookie Exchanges at my house, and has been to all the important events in my life. Even though she wasn't a family member, we considered her one. Anne was probably the single most generous person I know. She donated her time and talent to a church that wasn't hers, gave gifts and cards to kids that weren't hers (they were mine) and could tell a story that would result in tears streaming down your face and your stomach clenched from laughing so hard. She was extremely crafty, and mom, myself, Anne and Diane would do craft sales together. I have many things made by Aunt Anne, and still marvel at her talent.

The last few years saw Anne suffering from a rare type of cancer. She was diagnosed around the same time as my mom. They didn't talk as much as they used to, since they were both going through such a tough time with tests, radiation and surgeries. I have a heavy heart knowing I didn't get in contact with her to tell her I was thinking of her all the time, that I said her name out loud along with my mom's name when I was in church naming those who needed prayers because they were sick. When her daughter came to bring her to Florida to take care of her, I procrasinated sending flowers and a card. I can only hope while in heaven, she knows that I love her, and truly appreciated the friendship that she showed to my mom, myself, and my kids.

Lesson learned? Tell the people in your life how much you appreciate them. Be generous with your loved ones. Keep in touch regularly. Say I love you. I doesn't hurt. Really, it doesn't.