April 2008

I was at a meeting last night

and behind me were 2 ladies talking. One was saying that she and her husband are moving soon to a bigger house, and she was going to put uncomfortable beds in the spare bed room image so that her mother-in-law would not stay too long.

She went on to say

that she wishes her mother-in-law was like her friends mother-in-law, and would go shopping with her. She was going on about how her mother-in-law never stopped over , and that she was the stereo-typical mother-in-law. She said, “You know the kind they make jokes about .”

Well that got me thinking

I am a mother-in law to a son-in law and a daughter-in-law. Both of these people are wonderful people. They are wonderful individuals themselves, and make such good spouses for our 2 kids. As a mother-in-law though, I try to be everything that is not dreaded.

I hope they both know I am here for them,

I am not , however, going to want to bring out memories of being meddling in their affairs, or trying to compare their way of doing things to how I do things. My goodness, Jeff married a woman he loves, not his mother! As a mom I watched Jeff grow, I gave him guidance to really think about how what he does affects others and events.

Adrianne was here every other weekend when she was younger,

and sometimes for longer spells in the summer. I tried to treat her and teach her the same things and way I did Jeff. She has grown up a fine young woman, and I know she married her best friend and her love of her life. She did not marry her father.

I really hope that both Jeff and Amanda, and Adrianne  and Josh,

do not misinterpret my lack of being a pest, an opinionated mother /mother-in-law, I hope they do not think it is because I don’t care. It is not that I have opinions I am holding in either, I respect your lives, they are your lives, I am impressed at how well you all get along, and how all together you all are with life.

I love you all so very much,

and I think of you all the time. I must admit, I personally think I am a bit boring, I don’t go shopping, don’t go out to window shop, I love being home, I love going to the park with the dog, doing laundry, cleaning my house, cooking a meal for you, being there for you. I just hope that my lack of being more in–your-face type on mom, is not misinterpreted at all. I cherish each of you, I am in many ways a home body, but I am here for you, I will do anything in my power for you, I love you.

I just felt so bad for this woman talking, and for her mother-in-law,

because she just may be misinterpreting the actions of the situation. How many other people feel their in-laws don’t care or are too critical? I hope that anyone reading this, whether they are the in-law parents, or in-law spouses, remember that there may be 2 ways to read an action, do not discredit it as not caring.

With love and prayers for all, Cindy


Music, is it not amazing?

There are 8 whole notes in an octave. 8 of them, just at different octave levels, and look at all the songs they have made. Eight notes with 1/2 notes in between, depending on how the song is written it can sound joyful , excited, sad, terrified. Eight notes, and there are countless songs, none quite sounding like another. None with the same words in the same order. I look at my collection of records, tapes and CD’s and I am amazed at how many different songs there are. What I have is a minute representation of the songs in the world.

I can be taken back to a time in my life,

just by hearing a song. I can see the room or feel the  wind as if I was back in that period of time.I feel the same emotions. I can feel so low that I can cry  listening to some songs, and others bring me such joy I may break out in a huge smile.

To some , music may not mean anything,

but to me, it is part of what makes me whole. I do not know if you can understand that, if music does not do the same thing to you, but to me, I have a song in my heart most of the time. I catch myself stuck on a tune, or longing to hear one I have not heard for a while.

Sometimes I fall for the melody

and later really listen to the words, only to find out it is about some woman crying the blues about dating a married man. I love the tune, but can not bring myself to sing the song, because it is something I can not support with song. I love to sing, and do so at church, and on occasion out in a Karaoke setting. When I sing a song, I have to really feel the song. Even if it is not something I have felt in life, I have to feel the meaning, so that others may feel it to.

Maybe, just maybe, I will be singing a song

that becomes a memory of a special time to someone or to many. I was going out a couple times a month singing at various Karaoke shows, it was fun, and the audience is unique in a karaoke bar. It is often that they hear you, but continue to do their thing, whether it be playing pool, shooting darts or hanging out with friends. Every once in a while though, a certain song may hit the group and they stop, they rally around, they may sway with lighters lit ,waving them above their heads or they may just turn and listen, if that happens, when that happens, I know I have not only felt the song, but I have succeeded in sharing the song with others.

Eight notes, unending combinations, words put together, Music is the foundation of who I am. I wish you all a song in your hearts, a feeling from a song, a longing to hear more. Love always, Cindy

Our refrigerator door has 100_1066 many roles.

It is obviously to keep the food cold

but that  is not it’s only role at our house. Currently it is a display of life. On the left door is a photo of the father daughter dance, when Mark was honored to dance with his daughter Adrianne, at her wedding.

Directly under that is a photo

of Jeff and Amanda at their wedding, with Adrianne standing next to her dad and Adrianne’s husband standing next to me. To the right is a photo of my mom, 2 days before she died, unexpectedly, under that is a photo of Jeff , about 1 1/2 yrs old.

There is our white board

where we write down groceries needed, or a reminder. On the other door, is a photo of my mother in law from my first marriage, she too has since passed on. And of photo of Jeff and his mentor “Sarge” right after Jeff became an officer of the law. They were in their uniforms. There are various notes and business cards, it is a resource of information and memoirs.

As Jeff was growing up

it was the showcase of all his works of art in elementary school. In middle school and high school we had a white board calendar so we would know the various places we had to go, baseball schedule and then marching band information. I would put my work schedule on it.

The refrigerator door is a wall of life,

a place of now and before, the memories it holds, the pride it has given , the chaos it sometimes displayed , it is always there, always looked at, and when you hang your little ones works of art on them , it is a way to show them how proud you are of who they are, what they have done and where they have been.

So keep that door closed tight, and remember to look at it. It truly is the times of our lives. Love always, Cindy

43 Things Tags: ,,,

I am so excited.

My baby boy and his wife called me at work to tell me that we are going to have a GRANDSON!! Whoa–a new little boy to the family. It will be some months before we can actually hold the little guy, but my mind is swirling with joy, excitement and 100_1062 happiness for both of them.

Jeff and Amanda’s lives are so busy right now.

I never know quite when to capture them, and I just love when they come over for dinner and sometimes a movie. I thought of this picture for a few reasons. One was all the plans they have, and challenges and joys to hold onto, are much like these drops of dew on these blades of grass. They sit so high and proud on the very tips, they all have a purpose, and some may hang on longer then others. Inside each drop is a reflection of the world, in a tiny drop of water.

The baby is growing,

cell by cell, and within its tiny little body is a world of joy, laughter and I am sure interesting moments. There are droplets that represent us..one set of grandparents , to be. Planning all sorts of things, what to put the baby in to ride in the car, where the baby would sleep if he was visiting, it is a new chapter in our lives, in their lives, and the memories are countless.

So if you , Jeff and Amanda, are reading this… congrats!!! I know you will provide a wonderful home for this little guy.

More to follow on the new saga in our lives. Love always, The proud Grandma


Have you ever been in a situation

where you felt the only reason the other person was tough was because there was a wall, a window , a separator between you and them.


The bird was being pretty tough

as the cat was looking into the cage. Oh yeah ,the bird was chirping, and pulling on the tie for the cover of the cage, like he is laughing at the cat,the cat only separated by a wire wall, but to the bird , he was acting like he was in Fort Knox.

Another example happened to me the other day.

I am driving to work, minding my own business , and a school bus is in front of me. All of the sudden these kids are looking out the back making weird faces at me. They are sticking their tongues out, putting their fingers on their ears and flapping their tongues up and down. At first I felt embarrassed,inferior, like I wanted to revert back to the days of childhood, when the bullies would make fun of me and I would cry and run away.

My mind however made it past that feeling and I felt amused at the thought

of how tough would they be if there was not a bus window and a car windshield in between us. I envisioned following the bus to school, and standing at the door as they came to get out. I imagined their frightened faces, but I knew if I really did that, someone would nab me for a child predator or something.

On the way to work I sometimes choose to take the interstate.

This is another example of how tough people act when they are in their cars. Young whipper-snappers in their parents cars, people trying to come onto the highway, they cut me off, or ride my back bumper, they swerve in and out of traffic, but then down the road a piece, when they are fortunate to be pulled over by a police man, look at them in their cars. They are wimps, with scared looks on their faces, I can almost hear them saying  “Sorry officer” , or ” What did I do sir”, wimps!

So you bullies of the world , we can see through you !!!

You are marshmallows under your tough gestures.

For all of us more mellow folks, just breath in , relax and let the bullies of the world get what is due them. Love, Cindy

Can you imagine living in this place? Can you imagine cleaning this place? How about heating it? Or trying to find your keys? This was built in the 14th century, and it is still standing on the side of this mountain! Now look at the houses being thrown up today, how do you think they will compare to this in another 600 years?

I find it totally mind boggling that there are so many architecturally firm dynasties that are till standing from 700 years ago, and longer. Don’t you think it is amazing that the people who built this did so without a Rental Center to borrow a jack hammer, a scaffold, a crane, an automatic this or that. imageThey stacked these boulders, they lined them up, they made window openings, and stairs, I am just blown away at the thought of how long it took, how heavy the pieces must have been, how huge! PLus there were rooms inside.

( courtesy of clipart.comNorman Castello Venere In Cecily )

They did not have Carhart jackets  for when it got cold, nor did they have work boots or Levis jeans. There were no fast food restaurants to grab some lunch at, or a Dunkin Donut to grab that morning cup of “Joe. I hate to tell everyone, but they don’t make people like they used to.

We are a pampered, spoiled , have no idea what really hard labor is, group of individuals. Sure we go to work, and toil physically, mentally, sometimes both, but how would you handle climbing that wall to line the next boulder up?  I do not think they waited for a good day to build it in a jiff, this would take days on end, devotion, commitment. I am sure no one said, oops– it is 4:30, that is all I work till, see ya in the AM.

I am sure that they did not think about what was in it for them, or have the “that’s not my job” attitude. I am even thinking they probably did not run each other off the path to work. As good as I think my work ethic is, I can not come close to the ethics these people must have had. There is a lot to be said about the world back then, I wonder how many of us could survive for even a day back then? Justa wonderin- Love Cindy

For some reason I just love light houses.

A lighthouse guides those from being lost. A lighthouse stands erect no matter what the forces of nature are. It is a beacon in the night, image and majestic by day. A lighthouse has no prejudices, it is there to help out anyone, to show them the way. For those of us who believe in God, a lighthouse reminds me of God, providing us guidance to show us the way, never giving up, believing we will see the light.

(courtesy of Clip Art.com)

Have you ever climbed to the top of a light house?

To see afar, over the waters , whether it be on the ocean , a lake or across a Cape. It amazes me, that there were people who climb up and down the light house frequently. Me, I have probably climbed 2 in my whole life. And each time, I was amazed at the view, at the sturdiness and security I felt, but more so, the pride that the lighthouse keeper portrayed.

I was born in Bridgeport Ct,

54 1/2 years ago, and back in that time, the lighthouses were more available then they are now in some parts of New England. We lived in a flat near the ocean, but far enough away, that we could not see it with out going to it. It was always a special time to see the lighthouses. I felt grounded and safe when I was by one. My youth made me curious, and made the light house people more welcoming due to my innocence and wonder.

A few years back,

I believe it was the 2nd to the last trip that my son Jeff and I took together. We went on a New England adventure. I wanted him to feel the lighthouses,the strength of them, the power, the durability,  the way I had remembered them. To walk up to them, to feel the sense of guidance they give. What a total disappointment it was, when the road I  chose to go , along the southern shore of Maine, the light houses belonged to people, they were fenced in their property, they were there but not tangible. It took us a long time to get to Portland, because the road we were on was crowded and slow moving. When we arrived in Portland, we finally got to a lighthouse no one had claimed. It was open to the public, and we could climb up it, but by the time we got there, we were bummed from the long journey .

I have no idea

if the people who have their houses and their fences built and encompassing the lighthouses if they run the lighthouses. It just seemed so selfish to me, so greedy, such a loss of an image I have treasured in my mind.

Oh I am sure there are lighthouses out there, with the watchman that shines the pathway for the men and women at sea. I just wish Jeff could have shared the sense of wonder and admiration I have for the light houses.

I want to be to others as a light house is to those on the water.

I live my life in a manner that I try to lead, try to comfort and try to be a beacon for others in need. Sometimes I fail though, sometimes I can not find the strength to fulfill that desire, but I am stubborn, and will keep on trying . May this find you well, Love, Cindy

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