An Italian Boy's Confession

I received this in my In box the other day, and it just struck me as VERY humorous... thanks, Cousin Naty!


"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. I have been with a loose girl."

The priest asks, "Is that you, little Joey Pagano?"

"Yes, Father, it is."

"And who was the girl you were with?"

"I can't tell you, Father. I don't want to ruin her reputation."

"Well, Joey, I'm sure to find out her name sooner or later so you may as well tell me now. Was it Tina Minetti?"

''I cannot say."

''Was it Teresa Mazzarelli?"

''I'll never tell."

"Was it Nina Capelli?"

"I'm sorry, but I cannot name her."

"Was it Cathy Piriano?"

"My lips are sealed."

"Was it Rosa DiAngelo, then?"

"Please, Father, I cannot tell you."

The priest sighs in frustration. "You're very tight-lipped, and I admire that. But you've sinned and have to atone. You cannot be an altar boy now for 4 months. Now, you go and behave yourself."

Joey walks back to his pew, and his friend Franco slides over and whispers, "What'd you get?"

"'Four months vacation and five good leads."

Riding The Wings Of A Dragonfly

The following is a poem written for me by my good friend Ellen Johnson. Thank you, Ellen. XOXOXO


For Shirley

I meant to comfort my friend
Whose life crashed twelve months ago
On a road she never meant to take
Sabotaged without warning
Still spinning, weeping and moaning in laughter
To chase the razor sharp cuts from opening
Again
What to say to a damaged heart
Without the predictable rhythm she once shared
Out of love
The mending is methodical winding down paths
She never imagined taking
And still she finds substance in gentle touches
Healing thoughts and the occasional lasting lyric
I told her time would go by
People would forget to hold her hand, for now she must
Become a soldier of endurance
Like the rest of us
The innocence rests in a safe place carved out in careful consideration
Of losing your child
You will dance out your afflicted demons in denial
Or find brilliant words to get through another hour
Cares will crash, smiles will collide and
The luminous bereaved butterfly will appear
And you will stand on dragonfly wings
On a trip down moonlit waters
Waiting for darkened dawn
Collecting your strength
And finding deeper dimensions than you ever conceived
And you will be alive
Vibrant with vision
With appreciation on your shoulder
Experience in your eyes
And my friend will have new meaning...

September 24, 2009

In The Pink

You're angry... I know this
You're lonely... I feel this

You're crying at night
When nobody else is home

Come over here and let me hold your hand and hug you, darling
I promise you that it won't always feel this bad
There are so many things I want to say to you
You're the girl I used to be

You little heartbroken - me

You're laughing... but you're hiding
God, I know that trick too well
You forget that I've been you
And now... I'm just the shell

I promise, I love you
And everything will work out fine

Oh, just give it some time

The pain you feel is real
You're not asleep... but it's a nightmare
But you can wake up anytime

Oh, don't lose your passion
Or the fighter that's inside of you
You're the girl I used to be

The pissed off, complicated - me


Until we meet again.


- Excerpted from "Conversations With My 13-Year Old Self", Pink

Christian Seely

I was getting dressed the other morning, and in the process of trying to hook my bra behind me I felt this shooting pain in my right hand. I let out a loud curse, and my dog Winnie immediately jumps up from her pillow and runs over to me, wagging her tail and making sure I was okay. Now, THAT’s love. If she were another person, that nice gesture would most likely be followed with a “Did you HAVE to make that noise? You freaked me out, I thought something was REALLY wrong!” See, that’s where animals get it right, and human beings just screw it all up. My dog loves me unconditionally, without reservations, without stipulations, without ulterior motives. There’s a saying I’ve heard before that sounds very “cutesie” at first glance, but really has a significant message if one stops and thinks about it: “My goal in life is to be as good of a person my dog already thinks I am.” – Author Unknown. I LOVE a good saying…

Since starting my workout routine with the personal trainer, I increased my daily Winnie walks from one to two a day. Yes, I know it sets the bar higher, but knowing how much she loves to go for a walk, and how excited she is being able to walk twice a day now keeps me motivated to be consistent with it. Winnie asks me for nothing, yet she is always there with love to give me. Next to my son, I spend most of my time with her – one of the few non-virtual relationships that doesn’t make me feel boxed in. No expectations… I get to do whatever I want; very much like when the Bunny was alive.

So, Winnie and I were on our morning walk, and periodically – as dogs tend to like to do – she would forcefully stop in her tracks so she could smell this bush, or that brick wall… most likely holding evidence of some other dog passing by earlier. I use the word “forcefully” because most of the time I am in a hurry (I’m always in a hurry), rarely are these walks the meandering, ambling kind… Generally we walk the same route through my neighborhood, although sometimes I do feel compelled to turn left at the corner instead of right – just to switch it up for Winnie so it doesn’t become too boring – for both her and myself. She likes to stop in the same places usually, and one such stop today put us in front of a house I have walked past many times before. There is a particular bush Winnie always likes to investigate, directly to the right of the driveway.

For some unfathomable reason, I happened to look down at the pavement of the driveway, and noticed a message scratched out in the corner, most likely when the driveway was originally poured. I’m sure you’ve seen this before in the world, where there is wet concrete and random people carve their initials into it, to remain there indefinitely once the concrete hardens. I looked closer – it’s some kid’s name: Christian Seely. Probably either a current or previous inhabitant of this house. Underneath Christian’s name, a date: May 17, 1990.

May 17th is my wedding anniversary. So, on our morning walk, my vision registers this date, and immediately I get a tidal wave of thought coursing through my brain. How much longer will I look at the date and be able to say “that’s my wedding anniversary”? Technically speaking, I am no longer married – therefore, no anniversary to acknowledge. That thought makes me extraordinarily sad, and I am overtaken again by thoughts of “life is UNFAIR!” And after a few minutes of self-pity, my mind once again takes control and gently – because it understands, and also feels in its own way, the pain my heart is feeling – reminds me that all I can do is keep moving forward. One step at a time, Shirley. Don’t be so quick to get past this... your heart goes at its own pace. Don’t leave it behind.

They say that dogs – I guess all animals? – are very receptive to the thoughts and feelings of their owners. Winnie is a good girl; she finishes her investigation of the bush, and we continue on our journey. As is her way, she is just “there” with me. She doesn’t ask me questions, doesn’t make me talk about my feelings, doesn’t impatiently wait for me to “get over” anything. She just…. loves me. As for my heart, I’ve come to the realization that I will always love the Bunny. He changed my life; he added all the beautiful colors to my world.

And whoever has the thought to come into MY world is going to have to understand that...

...and just love me.

Photograph Eve

Tomorrow is photograph day – the one I first mentioned back in my July 14th post. I went back and had to reread what I had written, to remind myself of the purpose of this project, because today, “Photograph Eve,” I realized I was feeling pretty agitated. I’ve been on edge since I got up this morning, and as the day has worn on, I have felt nauseous deep in the pit of my stomach… the feeling getting stronger and stronger with each passing hour.

I’ve been practicing my “sad look” – which of course requires that I fill my mind with the Bunny – and I have been mentally telling myself that once this project is completed, I cannot afford to spend any more long stretches of time pitying myself, wishing for things that just cannot be, or feeling ripped off by life. Yes, as positive as I try to be, I still feel those things. Once the sad look is captured in the photograph, I can stop carrying it around with me.

Things are still changing. Last week my cousin Lisa was visiting from Chicago, and spent part of the week at my house. She is in the part of my family that I am really close to, and as many friends and acquaintances as I have gathered in my life, there IS something about family that makes them special – something I can’t put my finger on. Maybe it is because all the barriers we put up to protect us from our everyday interactions with people just cease to exist with family. It’s quite an anomaly. Of course we spent some time talking about the Bunny and last December. My cousin wasn’t able to make it out at the time, but in hindsight it was a lot more enjoyable for me to have her here now, eight months later, when my life isn’t completely overwhelmed with emotional challenges. Don’t get me wrong, I still have a bunch of those! But not quite as many to deal with as back then – or maybe I’m just stronger to better handle them now? Hmmm.

After my shower, I was in my son’s bathroom drying my hair (the light is better in his bathroom than in mine), and my sad look ended with me bursting into tears. It’s not a long drawn-out thing; it's like I'm being skewered with a long sword, rather than suffocating slowly in a gas chamber. Intense, then nothing. I think that’s me doing that; I used to be great at shutting down my feelings, and I guess some things you never forget how to do, like riding a bicycle.

I imagine that this is what it would have been like had I known, that Saturday night before the Bunny’s accident, that my happy life with the Bunny would be finished. Looking back, I think the knowledge would have ruined my happiness. I often talk about that Saturday being the “happiest day of my life” – I had just gotten laid off from a job I hated, I was going to be able to work independently on things I enjoyed, I had my wonderful husband who adored me – I’m thankful for that Saturday, because it gives me a benchmark – a goal to work towards as life moves forward.

Tomorrow is the Bunny’s day. One of the last that we will spend “together.” I’ve got one more of these days left – the next one not till later in June of next year. I expect that one to be even tougher. But I also know I have all of my loved ones – friends and family – to get me through it.