It's too cold for the middle of April. The wind threatened hairdo's and flower arrangements. Impositions aside, the group looked lovely. My son and his sweet girl friend make a nice couple.

Last night my second son went to his junior prom with his girlfriend and 7 other couples. The older women (including me) marveled at the beauty of the girls, that which we do not seem to remember.

South Philly is known for it's sophistication and exaggerations when it comes to proms. Hollywood looking couples, flowers, limousines and memorable restaurants.

Homemade pizza was in the oven, wine, and coffee and cake were available. More importantly friends and family were crowded in the living room and kitchen for a couple of hours to mingle and "see" the kids. It's a chance to see my son's girlfriend's nice family, a nice chat, hugs, kisses and just a little added glue to those relationships.

It was a nice South Philly nite.

Afterward, my husband took my dad to his cigar shop hangout before going to the "father and Son" club with my other sons. My mom and sister in law and her mother in law hung with me for a little while.

The city isn't perfect, but it's perfect to me.

I stole this from Randy740...another blogger...

A married man was having an affair with an Italian woman for
several years. One night, during one of their
rendezvous, she confided in him
that she was pregnant.
Not wanting to ruin his reputation or his
marriage, he paid a large sum
of money if she would go to
Italy to secretly
have the child.
If she
stayed in
Italy to raise the child, he would
also provide child support
until the child turned 18. She agreed, but asked
how he would know when
the baby was born. To keep it discrete, he told
her to simply mail him
a post card, and write "Spaghetti" on the back.
He would then arrange
for child support payments to begin.
One day, about 9 months later, he came home to
his confused wife.
Honey, she said, "You received a very strange
post card today." "Oh,
just give it to me and I'll explain it," he
said. The wife obeyed, and
watched as her husband read the card, turned
white and fainted. On the
card was
written:
"Spaghetti, Spaghetti, Spaghetti -- Two with
meatballs, one without."

I told him I stole it..is that still stealing????

I always have a long list of things I want to do when I have more time. There are kid's things, and house cleaning and writing and reading and even some interesting looking jobs and careers.

The hardest thing to comprehend is that I will not be seeing my patients anymore. You have to understand that some of these people are not "patients" and "members" to me but friends and almost soul mates. How can I live without Eleanor, the lady that on my first visit to her home she was intently preparing lunch for a grasshopper. What about Joe, the few times he gets to laugh all week is when I am screaching about the mice scurrying about my feet. Johnnie is still is California and I mourn her absence anyway. John, who lives with all of the junkie boarders, who only has one hand since WW11. And then there is Pauline, who drives me nuts but her cantankerous yelling is like tough love. And Al...well, I will probably still give Al his Procrit injection since he is a neighbor and fellow church member. Those are the ones I consider my friends. The others are interesting new acquaintances.

Today, my last patient (unbeknown to me)was a doll. An 88 year old lady with a page boy hair cut worried about daughters she raised with an iron fist, daughters who either do not bother with her or give their own kids too much attention and things or who only come around when they need something. She has been falling due to dizziness and I think it is coming from worrying so much. Last month she read that her spoiled grandson beat his 2 year old son so bad he was hospitalized because the child was crying. She rocked in her chair with the Bible on her lap pleading with Our Savior to have mercy on that baby. We had a good visit. I think my suggestions may help her a bit. I was looking forward to getting to know her better.

The very least of my job was good writing material but the world IS full of that...

It is funny. Last week I saw a friend who is married to a really successful lawyer..she was whinning about how nice my "little job" is..about how I have something for myself, besides, "how much can a person shop?" .."And all I do is car pool all day, doing that expressway several times a day". Poor girl. She envied my little job. Another friend and I were talking just this morning about how after having only one or two days off from work we feel completely used to the idea, feeling a bit shocked we are expected back. We stood silently for a moment secretly wishing for unemployment. The topper was that I cried my eyes out last night watching the movie "The Pursuit of Happiness" about an unemployed man, a smart man, who had a little business go sour and had a hard time getting back on the upswing. I cried my eyes out at his relationship with his son, his determination, and his integrity, and his seemingly impossible struggle.

Then today I got laid off from my job. The company I work (ed) for rearranged things and are doing away with all the case management and hand holding. I was a big hand holder. I turned down an office position. That would be torture for me. Now I am doubting that decision. At 46, I was vested, I had seniority and I had tons of sick days accumulated. On the other hand, I get to be home all summer with the kids while I look for another job. I was there for five years.

The truth is I was needing a change but because of the benefits and the patients/friends and the nice managers I stayed. I took the easy way for a while.

Now it is time for a change. I am looking forward to it. But I can't think of the patients I may never see again.
It's hard to say goodbye to friends you love.

In a world where bad is everywhere, where we scrutinize every passing stranger, mistrust boy scout leaders and mock the clergy...goodness sometimes finds us.

My youngest son takes his altar server job very seriously. He loves the church and the altar and marvels over the massive candles and sculpted angels. The cross he carries is much bigger than he is and the bells are wrung with a bit of fear.

There are a handful of people, mostly women, my own contemporaries who help at the church and school. They educate the altar servers, administer the Eucharist, read the bible stories and help in the offices.

My son is on a first name basis with these men and women. He respects and admires their kindness. I watch as he tries to impress them. I am used to my kids looking at their dad or their coach for a nod of approval. I am not used to my young sons looking at other women for advice and assurance.

It is a shocking sense of funny that I am not jealous of these women at all. I am entirely grateful for their goodness and the role models they have become in my child's life. I too admire their soft spoken nature, a solemn attitude, and their outward effort toward goodness. Along with his very good teachers, also, mostly neighborhood women, and his principal and pastor my kids get a first hand look at goodness. Our crossing guards are wonderful, nice, kind women, too and know the kids by their names and where they live and who they belong to.

I am usually trying to avoid things so abundant in my kid's world: rough TV shows and movies, inappropriate behavior at wrestling matches, bad music videos, offensive language, poor showmanship, disrespectful behavior by children as well as adults, very bad food choices, and a high crime city. It is also hard to avoid other kids and families who seem to worship material things more than anything else. Games and toys and constant entertainment is expected by kids today. I find it somewhat repulsive. Easter has become a holiday of toy shopping and how much candy one gets. Sometimes I want to cry at the stress these things cause... then, like a light shining from heaven I realize there is goodness around, there are good role models, there is happiness and dignity.

It is nice to hear adults comment on my child's manners or kindness or respectful nature. I try to always tell him about these compliments because that is what I want to emphasize as right. Goodness has it's rewards, however subtle. He, in return, comments on a kind word or particular holiness of someone. It seems basic and sincere not manipulated or controlled.

I just hope the ones who have a real honest positive affect feel a sense of contentment. I am very grateful.

I saw a movie once called "You can tell Just by Looking at Her". The movie was about assumptions.

I hate to admit to that! I do feel I know how a person is just by how they look. How shallow! I do not mean I know all about the person, but, it seems, by a person's looks/demeanor/dress/hair/attitude I can tell just enough about that person ...
unless someone is trying to fool me..if they are trying, they probably will fool me because I am gullible.

and I should know better because I am someone who most people..strangers mostly, think I am a lot different than how I look to them.

It helps if I talk to someone for a little while..and then I feel I have a good enough amount of information to be able to tell how that person is..
I know people are convoluted and have many characteristics..and I know there are many exceptions...like the tattooed, mo-hawked, multi piercings genius. But, that is the exception.

My 16 (almost 17) year old son told me he was getting a tattoo when he was 18. I am not a tattoo person, in fact, I can't even where nail polish for more than a couple of days...without it driving me completely crazy..and that is just on my toes. My finger nails are more comfortable naked. A tattoo would drive me nuts. I tried to impress how other people form opinions about a person when they see such things as a tattoo. He thought I was absurd. He said he doesn't care what other people think about him. I emphasized that although I do not really care too much what other people think about me it is nice when others think good of me..doesn't he agree? "I guess"...he said. Also...I'd rather not give others clues about me. I'd rather be mysterious. (OH I am not mysterious)(maybe only to strangers)..but, to me, that is how I like it...I am not one to talk openly and wildly and generously with strangers. I may talk easily, I may mingle well..but I really don't care to socialize as much as I like to observe and as much as I like to observe, I'd rather not be observed. My son, the 16 year old one, seems like the same type...he really rather be a fly on the wall than noticeable. A tatoo just goes against that tendency. I think it is a passing fancy...one that is impossible to remove.

I also think it is a bit immature.

I also feel that when I see guys with two earrings, and other piercings, pants around their knees, lots of tattoes...I wonder why they care so much about all of that..and why they don't care about more important things.

My son says I am prejudiced. In lots of ways I am. I try not to discriminate openly unless it is warranted. I happen to think discrimination is a defense mechanism. We all know there are reasons for our prejudices..there is a bit of truth to all of them out there..and we all have them. I know it isn't fun being the target of discrimination. I have been treated a certain way because I am Italian, because I live in South Philly and because I am small/short, because I am married and because I have sons. There are certain ways people respond to those things that aren't always nice and sometimes, unintentionally, are hurtful and insulting. It isn't a nice feeling but I have learned to kind of accept it and rise above it.

Being conscious of my "specialness" makes me comfortable with all of it. It allows me to walk with confidence and grace. Confidence I've got...I am still working on grace.

I want my kids to accomplish a healthy level of self esteem.

It is how I feel about most plastic surgery...it may make a bit of a difference but we are just perfect they way we are...no need for permanent adornments...after all..that is what jewelry, shoes, and hair dye are for...whims...that can be changed with our moods.

SO..to save my sorry self a bit...try to see that movie..with Glenn CLose...and you'll see how they make that point very well.

My son, on the other hand, disagrees.

Teenagers!