Today (really Thursday) I went to NYC. I was alone and very glad to go about doing whatever I felt like it...but talk about overabundance...WEW!!! And it all goes so fast there isn't much time to think. My feet have about a hundred blisters and they are all achy. I had 2 pair of flat shoes with me but really need like orthopedic shoes I think...I can't take anything uncomfortable on my feet anymore...and those girls walking a gentle run in stilettos in Manhattan..well, they are just annoying.
I saw Naomi Campbell too...walking with a man behind her..like a body guard..everyone was looking at her...she is incredibly beautiful and very tall and has unbelievable legs that were out and about from a very tight, short skirt and very high shoes laced all the way up to her knees. And at her age! I almost checked myself into the rest home around the park.

The Manhattan Free Library..is AWESOME!!! The building would take me weeks and months to examine. I walked through quickly. The marble steps outside and the veranda dotted with small cafe tables for the pleasure of the walking public...well..I just loved it.

I stopped in the Empire State Building but it is really a big, tall building with look out towers and they chare you a feel to ride the elevator up there and take a look at the whole city. One fee for 86 floors and an additional fee to go to the top: over 100 floors. I would like to see the view at night, and only with my family.

I had to go thru the fabric/garment district today. That was all pretty neat..there were streets with ladies pushing racks of clothing covered in plastic down the sidewalk. And, of course, everyone was speaking in different languages. There are so many people! I actually looked a few in the eye and smiled. I think they are still in shock. LOL. I was laughing all day.

I found a vintage shop called Cheap Jack's...well, it wasn't so cheap but the store is huge ...full of dresses on racks with dates above them like 1930's, 1940's, etc...some were gorgeous. Coats, boots, ball gowns, blouses...and soooooo many men's hats...really nice ones..I'll have to bring my husband there...he likes hats. I didn't buy anything. I was truly overwhelmed. I loved the store though.

The Oyster Bar at Grand Central is an old fashioned, big oyster bar with fresh shell fish and regular fish made to order. I had a delicious dinner...with no room for desert.

The train ride there and back was the Septa train to Trenton and then the New jersey Transit train to NYC ...very economical (under 30.00 round trip) and it took about 2 1/2 hours each way with some short delays. (Much cheaper than Amtrack which is about 140.00 RT)All and all very pleasant people watching and I got to start my book: Waiting for Snow in Havana...so far it is O.K. It is a memoir. I met a really nice lady too...she lives in the suburbs and has food tastings and private dinners in her house. She loves to read and cook...we didn't come up for air for 45 minutes. We exchanged emails and I marvel at my ability to attract older women friends. I have a few more than a few friends over 70. But that is ok..they are interesting and nice and mannerly and smart. Even though they are all a lot younger than my grandmothers, they make me miss the time I had with them again.

On the way home I met a family from Utah who were vacationing in NYC, Philadelphia and Baltimore and Washington. They asked me for suggestions about Philadelphia. I think I made their heads spin. But they liked it....

All and all I enjoyed the day. Now, glad to be home. I'll probably have to go back and forth a few times for a project I am working on so I will keep you posted in case you'd like to get yourself as excited with a little trip to NYC.

I was just talking with Whispered Promises (another blogger) about the way of the world today regarding how tolerant and unexcited we've become about stuff.

She referenced scary movies..and how kids and people today aren't even that scared and nothing is scary enough and how most scary movies are all of a sudden a disappointment. We can take such extremes in entertainment and walk away without thinking another thought about it. Then she said..remember how long it took us to get back in the ocean after we saw "Jaws".

It is so true. I remember that.

Not today...little kids watch heads get sawed off and someone get stabbed 3500 times and then they go do something else or each lunch without flinching.

Nowadays, lots of us are immune. I see it all the time and it drives me nuts. What some do starts a trend and then others feel obligated or manipulated or coerced and then we are all doing it...well, almost all.

For example, my 8th grader is graduating from grade school. Next year he will start high school. It is a milestone, a time to say goodbye to 8 years of certain togetherness...but parties at halls? limousines? trips to Disney World? Why do some people need so much congratulations for things that are customary and ordinary? No wonder we don't reach for the stars...they aren't so special anymore. We get expensive jewelry and clothes from infancy. We vacation a few times a year (haven't vacations become stressful lately or is it my imagination?). We have big parties for every single birthday! God forbid we sit with a few family members and friends to a great home made cake and a glass of milk or cup of coffee. WHAT???? How special would that feel?

Not too long ago I went shopping for something. I don't remember what it was now..and I probably didn't even need it..but I remember I was tired. I remember going into the store and seeing miles and miles of dresses and blouses and suits and shoes and I was truly overwhelmed. I remember leaving. I remember hearing my grandmother's sing songy voice and her sneaky laugh.

I remembered a long time ago when I took her shopping. She needed "tops". "I NEED TOPS"!...this went on and on until finally I said...get in the car and we'll go into town shopping. She was less than thrilled. She just needy a few tops! NEEDED. She had really lost that shopping frenzy/excitement girls are born with and keep until arthritis or high blood pressure plays with our neural receptors. We went to John Wanamaker's, a large department store, moderately priced. I remember taking the escalator up a few floors. I remember watching her in her coulotte and old top and sneaker-like shoes, hop on and off the escalator like a 25 year old; her small purse in her hand securely. Off we went, turned the corner of the corridor and there we were...in the TOP department. She looked like she'd have a stroke. Her face turned white. Brisk steps took her around the floor as her bewildered face surveyed, well, the tops. Blouses, sweaters, pull overs, jackets, etc..She sang: "Oh my, oh my, oh my...the tops...all the tops, so many tops". Trance-like and in a bit of a dream, I thought she was happy for a minute but then she said "Let's go, I can't shop here". She "oh'd and ah'd and murmured "the tops, so many tops" all the way home.

We walked into her house with relief. Those weights on her shoulders were magically removed. I thought she must feel like you do when you are out of town, and even if you were having fun, when you get home you are so thoroughly glad to be there. I get that feeling every time I cross the bridge back to the city. I watch the litter fly by and the loud and despicable people in the streets and I think "home, sweet home".

Whenever I have the thoughts that the kids today have so much and can never really appreciate things the way you can when you just don't get a lot, I think of all the tops. I think of that overwhelming feeling. I think of how depressing it is to have so many choices. I think of how horrible it is that special is no longer special. Pedicures, massages, expensive clothing and hand bags, cars, sneakers, cell phones, even bottled water; fake body parts, enormous jewelry, Henry VIII food portions, entertainment, TV shows, even medication and doctoring....everything has become a NEED and nothing is ever a WANT.

and that is just too too too too too too much to bear.

WHAT are we doing to our kids? It is one of those things, like eating and drinking and smoking ..it feels good while you do it, you feel big and proud when your giving it or buying it or making the best fuss...but what you are actually doing..you'll never see...until it is too late. Some day we'll all be walking, numb, through a sea of everything and there will be nothing that could ever satisfy the feeling or the want we have because we won't even know what it is...some of us will never have that great feeling of not having..to truly appreciate anything...when getting is NOT the issue, and getting more just makes everything worse.

I watch people who have so much..they think they are there..yet they are so nervous and stressed and discontent. I see myself, when I deny myself something or my kids or my husband ..how much nicer and calmer it is to really enjoy things when it is decided to indulge. I see people who are poor or almost poor who dress in costume, who over paint, over decorate, over perfume. I see a fire being doused with gasoline, it gets bigger and stronger until it finally takes over and all that is left is blame and complaints and stress. Even those that have to have everything perfect: always comfortable clothing, always regulated temperatures, certain water, certain bagels, only does things a certain way and will never consider that flexibility can be fun or nice. Always being in control has nothing to do with being happy. Trophies and symbols and logos have become like pennies...available to everyone therefore not very special anymore.

It's nice to have freedom, it's nice to have choices, it's nice to have abundance but it's nicer to have happiness, integrity, intelligence and grace.

I recently noticed myself preparing dinner for a party. I realized the amount of food that was in my refrigerator was almost obscene. I saw the awe and the wonder of the guests. I saw how much fun everyone had and then I saw the waste and the stress and the tiredness. I realized when the party becomes the food and the gifts we need to step back and say enough..and just enjoy the conversation and the people and stop the snowball from becoming a boulder.

We all do it. We all should do less. I dare us.

(OK MOM...how do you spell coulattes???? you know like capris but wider? Like what grandmom used to wear)

I went back to yoga after missing classes for two weeks. I feel like I am starting over. I thoroughly missed it. My inflexible body is like a rubber band that I had nicely stretched for a while but has since sprung back into it's short inflexible ways. errrrgggghhh!

I was wondering about work. Home care has the most flexible hours and schedule but I am really sick of it. Just the dullness of it. I like excitement: coding patients, bleeding wounds, epinephrine injections. I'd like the E.R. or I.C.U. or Labor and Delivery but I do not want to work shift work or night work. I have such a nice, easy schedule now. Cook, clean, exercise, write, eat, read, movies, school help, family, eat, laundry, yoga, read, write, eat, sleep.

I think about the horror home care times and I think of the sweet patients and families I've come to know and really bond with and learn from as well as take care of and help. The driving around can get monotonous but I listened to so many books on tape and really miss that now. LOL. I remember:

Mary was waiting for me. It was evident she insisted on applying her own red, ruby lipstick. Her lips looked shaky. Her daughter widened her eyes and directed her head toward her mother: "Oh, hello Debbie, Mom was waiting for you." Round red smudges accentuated her deep cheek bones; her very thin face. She smiled a big, happy smile that allowed the red stains on her very yellow crooked teeth to appear. I smiled back suppressing a giggle. "You look lovely today. All dressed up in a pretty blouse and rouge and lipstick", I said. "It matches my manicure perfectly", Mary said as she stuck both hands out in front of her from beneath her cover, their red stained nails bright against the white sheet perfectly manicured. She beamed.

Mary had asked me here because the doctor was coming over for his monthly visit and he needed help cleaning the wax out of her ears with a big vacuum used just for this purpose. Everyone was very excited. Mary spoke very loudly. It was necessary for everyone to reiterate everything a few times before Mary could understand the conversation and this made everyone exhausted. I wondered how the physician would get the machine over here but thought maybe he had a portable one.

Mary's daughter Lena was about my age. She was thin and plain but pretty with thick brown shoulder length hair always pulled back with a barrette. Her hands were tiny and thin and always cold. She recently left her job at Macy's department store due to the demands at home. She cared for both her parents, her mom being in a hospital bed on the first floor and was only able to be moved with a Hoyer lift to the bedside Wheelchair 2 x a day. Mary did not have workable knees. Lena was a whiz with the Hoyer lift which hovered her mother in the air before easing her down into the chair. Lena was 110 lbs. Mary was 155 lbs. Jimmy was old and thin with severe arthritis and glaucoma. He was also diabetic. Insulin and breakfast were always competing with bedpans and diapers first thing in the morning. Lena used to go to work at the lingerie department 5 hours on Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays. She had a sitter and her cousin stay with her mom and dad. She took care of all she could before she left for work and equipped their bedside tables with water, juice, tea, lunch, tissues, seek and find books and magazines. After a while, Lena realized the sitter and the cousin were overwhelmed and her mother asked her to stay at home adding she was the best caretaker for them. Which she was. She was the best caretaker for anyone. She smiled all day, never complained or cried or felt sorry for herself. She cooked and ate what they ate, she never really went out, never had many friends and had one brother who was married and lived in another state but visited every week to allow Lena to go out to shop and do errands and do banking. Lena was waiting for a little niece or nephew to join the family. She felt sorry for her parents and was glad they were happy and smiled often. They appreciated her. She did have some privacy and autonomy in her room; she had her own phone line and books and some music and a computer.

I remembered the disappointment when Dr. A came over without the vacuum saying it was too big to bring into the car. Mary couldn't go to the office because he didn't have handicap access for Wheelchairs and she would not even think about changing doctors. She asked me if I had an ear vacuum machine and it broke my heart to tell her, "No". I took her Blood Pressure and made a fuss. I checked her skin, which was perfect without any pressure sores or bed sores anywhere. I checked her feet which needed the attention of a podiatrist. Lena had a call into the foot doctor's office and he was due to arrive within a day or two. We spoke loudly and repeated everything 3 and 4 times. Mostly Lena did that, her being the patient one, the best caretaker, she repeated everything with the patience of a saint. Lena tried every over the counter and alternative treatment for ear wax with no real success. I tried to discuss candling with her but I think she was afraid to try it.

I wanted to take her out for a drink, or a couple hours at the gym or shopping for herself. I told her what a wonderful daughter she was and how well she took care of them and told her I meant it. She said, "me and my brother are all they have and it makes me feel good to know I can help". WOW...I don't think she was in it for an inheritance either.

I think of Lena all the time, more than I think of Mary. I wonder how she is and what she'll do when they are gone. I wonder how long they'll live and I wonder if she wonders that too? I wonder if she misses the lingerie department or if she is bored. I wonder what she does for money or health benefits. I wonder what she wonders about.

and then I think of another home care patient:

Ellie lived on the third floor walk up apartment who could not get out of bed without the assistance of an aide that visited every day for only 2 hours. I remember the leaking ceiling, the hundreds of full of energy roaches, the chicken bones in her bed. I remember the bed sores filled with maggots. I remember the smell and I remember the patient laughing and asking me to find her phone that she dropped on a floor, a filthy floor, one with holes and scattered trash. I remember being so mad that she would want to stay like that just so she could eat what she wants and be out of anyone's line of vision. "What will you do if there is a fire in here?" I asked. "I guess I'll burn to death", she replied and she laughed a deep fierce laugh that paralyzed me. I could not look at her medications because the bottles were everywhere and the bugs were in control. I called Protective Services, who cannot do anything if the patient is of sound mind and can make decisions. HA! I called anyone and everyone who would listen. Then, I stopped calling and then, I stopped visiting. First, because I could not enable a dangerous situation, second because the smell made me so sick, and third because I was afraid the steps would fall in when I climbed up to the third floor and I'd be stuck up there with her forever. I did nothing for her anyway, nothing good, nothing substantial. I wondered how the aide, the nurse's aide, that got paid $10.00 an hour, got her out of bed to a wheelchair, changed that bed and put her in the tub once a week. My stomach turned. After 18 years of this, I had enough.

Later I found out she was put in a nursing home. Someone else rented the third floor apartment.

Some things I'll never understand.

Tomorrow I'll think about work.

I remember when I was pregnant with my second child. I had some feelings of mourning for my oldest who would be under 21 months when my second child, my second son, was born. I always wanted a lot of children; 5-7 was what I always pictured. I didn't anticipate feeling like I would have to give up some of what I had to give my oldest to give to another. I really didn't want to do that, and I didn't know how that would all work out. I never thought I'd love another child more than I loved my first.

My husband and I and our son were at my mom and dad's for dinner many years ago.
While we waited for the tea to brew and the coffee to perk, my father said (in so many words),..."I guess you are wondering where you are going to get all the love you'll need and want for the next child. I loved my first so much, I remember thinking: how can I share that with another? Where will it come from? But, you'll see, it grows. You just have the capacity to love both children, all your children, the same and you'll have the love you need for each of them; the same enormous love. You give all your love to the first and all your love to the second and to the rest and no one suffers and it is truly mind boggling. It appears."

And you know what? He was absolutely right.

Sometimes I forget where one of my kids is at the moment or what project is due or what reading needs to get done but I do feel complete and utter love and ability to give equally to everyone of them. I also know it is far more than my own doing, it is a gift, something given to me to give to them.

I've learned that the love for my second and third and fourth was full and strong. I felt exactly the same way about each one; they are all special and no one gets less love than the other.

It is one of life's miracles.

We always joke that we take less pictures of the younger ones and care less about showing up for every baseball game and we are less thrilled by graduations, and birthday parties. The first one puts us in over-drive. We are so filled with kid energy we want to do everything..then, as each child is born, thereafter, we become slow and steady and more level headed. I honestly think each of our kids has lent us the ability to see things in correct portion sizes.

We used to tease my sister that she was adopted. She was the "black sheep". I used to say I was the favorite because I was seemingly good next to her acts of independence or retaliation or other way of thinking. Now that I am a mother, I realize you can never love a child less because they are not always on their best behavior. You find the necessary love to give to them, more of it when they need it. Their actions really do not change your love. They may make your nerves frazzled but it doesn't affect your love. Even if one of my kids (or my sister, as we teased) was adopted..love comes from giving and caring not from birthing. But as kids, we wouldn't have known that..you don't know that until you are a parent.

We sometimes wonder about those friends who have the "perfect family"...the mom and dad and the son and daughter. How did they manage it? Most of those families are the ones that seemed to have insisted upon having that type of life: one perfect girly girl and one perfect testosterone driven boy; the just enough experience of each, the calculated and planned. For some that is enough. For us, even with one of each, we would have had more..because we never felt it was enough, we didn't feel "done", we just knew we'd have more and it was hard to think otherwise. We marveled at that love; the capacity of it's growth. We did stop at 4 because I realized I'd never have enough babies, not ever... It is a genetic defect, I think.

I wonder if the others could handle another kind of family; the less picture perfect, the loud house, the packed laundry room, the missing shoes, the constantly used kitchen, the seemingly constant confusion. It's like those women who are born 5'9" and 125 lbs. They seem perfect. Could they ever get along with 9" shorter legs like me? Do they care that I have the ability to fit my whole self into my refrigerator? Of course not...because life is all relative. We all see the world from our unique perspective, our own point of reference which is built from our experiences and what life has allowed us to see up to this point.

At times, we all wonder how other people do it? How they manage their families, houses, careers, pets? How they eat so much or so little, how they never cook or always eat out or always have company or never have company? We wonder why people do things differently than we do them?

and then

At times, we marvel how much alike we all are, even those of us that seem very different have very similar particular qualities. We all get hungry every few hours and we all need to drink water and sleep. We even, at times, can understand those people who seem so crazy. People like street people or addicts or schizophrenics. We all wonder and think and know that some parts of us are suitable for that life as some parts of those people may have the ability to have a life more similar to our own. Isn't there a part of us that really does understand? Doesn't it just make us a little bit scared? How can we have the capacity for such diversity? How do some dwell in one place instead of another?

We wonder how'll we'll do it when our parents need us to physically take care of them, or when our grandchildren ask us to go on the roller coaster or our dog dies?

Don't we all get scared and wonder where we will find the energy and capacity and love?

And then we'll remember the past and other people's past and we'll see things through our perspective and others will give us a glimpse of their's and we will be able to find what we need to not only get us through but to feel good about it, proud even (at times). We will have the love we need because it is a miracle of life that when we need it, it is there, like a hot air balloon, lifting us lightly and carefully to meet the demands of life. And it will always surprise us. It will teach us and help us feel like there really is some kind of safety net around sometimes.

Our capacity for love is really the reason the world continues to go around. It overcomes everything else and we all have much more to give and share than we realize.

We can Thank God for that.

For the past 11 days I did not have a second to write. It doesn't take much for me to feel bogged down. If I am bogged down and unable to write, I get nuts. I have little pieces of paper and post-it notes with thoughts, ideas and interesting words all over the place.

Mother's Day started with an overnight stay at the shore in Atlantic City. The Borgata casino and hotel has a great spa. My mom, sister, aunt, friends, and my sister-in-law all got together to eat and drink and talk and talk and talk until my throat was parched. The casino stays open all night and people actual play black jack and slot machines at 4 a.m. We watched and talked and then stopped watching and continued talking. I learned to play roulette and black jack and poker. I never really knew card playing was so much work, too much work for me. I like the slot machines...throw the quarters in and cross your fingers..no counting, no keeping track of cards, no trying to trick or outsmart the dealer, and when you lose you can blame it all on the machine. I realized it again..I am no gambler. Like my friend Diane, I'd rather shop or buy something with that money. We saunaed, we hot tubbed, we soaked up the sun. We even had a great work out at the gym. We had fabulous massages. We also did no laundry or dusting or cooking. We just relaxed. And talked. And talked. THAT was fun. Girls can just Talk and have fun. As long as we have some nice big glasses of cold water.

When I got home I drank 3 gallons of water (to unparch my throat) and slept for hours.

The following day our 8th grade went to NYC. One of my favorite things about NYC is listening to people talk. I can sit quietly and no one notices me. I try to figure out the languages, the accents, and the purpose of the others around me. My 8th grader is what my friend Rosina calls "a piece of bread". He is substantial and all good. He is really a love and a very sweet, honest kid. He is simple and pure and true. I thoroughly enjoyed spending the day with him. I can spend a lifetime of days with him without tiring of him. I know it. I wonder if he'd tire of me? He reminds me of my father-in- law, he also was good through and through, "a piece of bread" and was the most unselfish person I have ever known. He was sweet and kind and considerate. GC, my son, also has mannerisms like my father; it is funny to watch him count money or put a sandwich together or curl his toes in the same fashion as his grandfather.
He resembles my grandmother's family, third cousins that I see at the gym or at a festival or parade and think..."that man looks like my son". It is evident he picked up good traits from many family members but he is as good as gold himself.

I went to the shore Thursday for working papers for my son's summer job and back to the city (to have the doctor sign them) and then back to the shore on Friday until Saturday to get the house ready for the summer. Next week is Memorial Day weekend.

Back home on Saturday night ...Sunday we needed to get ready for the school week. I spent 2 hours on the phone to fix my son's computer with Comcast. I feel like I am way over school now.
Time for summer. Time for more chatting. Talking keeps our batteries charged.

I'll have to make sure I have a jug of water with me...

Maybe now I'll have more time to write.

after I talk to my mom on the phone....lol

Tell me when will I have time to work?

Today I need to catch up on chores and back to yoga after two weeks and then I can get into my real blogging mood...as long as I'm talking (either writing it or speaking it)...