Almost 14 years ago my sweet little dumpling, son #3 was born. His character, from the day he was born, was of radiating goodness. He is still like that: kind, happy, good, thinks the best of things. He was a cozy lovable child that still accepts my affection and care with ease. He is nice to his friends and helpful to his teachers and elders. He is friendly and respectful. He is quiet and kind.

14 years ago, Lori and I were pregnant at the same time. We compared pangs and pains and ultra sounds. It was Lori's first pregnancy. I had a miscarriage before this pregnancy and at that time I was devastated even though I only gestated 7 weeks. When I found out I was with another child my heart flew out of my chest and up to the heavens and I was as happy as happy could be....I loved being pregnant and giving birth more than most other mothers would ever admit.

Our babies were born 5 days apart. I was first which made Lori nervous about her impending work to be done. Lori had a baby girl, Taylor. When she called me, she told me every detail about the labor and deliver, the birth, the baby and how she felt about being a mother. She was also ecstatic and her heart flew with mine up to the heavens and they danced. We spoke every so often and after a few months Lori called with a concern. Lori is a nurse and knows about proper infant growth and development. At 2 months old Taylor was not lifting or turning her head. Lori tried to tempt the baby but could not get her to do certain things she knew were normal. Lori tried to convince herself her precious, beautiful baby girl was normal. As time plugged along, Taylor did not progress.

After ultra sounds and DNA testing Lori and Mike found out their baby had a rare disease that affected only hundreds of children a year in the whole world. HUNDREDS. I wondered how this happened to them? Lori said it was a chromosomal disorder, a missing piece of Chromosome # ? (I cannot remember). I never heard Lori say "Why me"?, "Why us"?, "MY poor baby"! "How can God do this to us"? "Why did this happen"? I never heard her pray to be rid of her heartache. I never heard her deny it's happening. I did hear her say "The doctor's said they are making good progress". "Oh, the 6 surgeries Taylor needs on her hips will make it easier for her to walk". "OH, the hospital has a great specialist". "Taylor is doing great".

I marveled at her smiles. I was amazed at her strength and her sense of joy at each level of progress of Taylor's. I stood silent when Lori told me Taylor was a typical teenager, getting "boobies" and liking some boy in her class. I remained nonchalant and casual when Lori and Taylor were at her son's (she had 2 more children) football game and Taylor smiled and clapped just like her mother while she hung over her walker and up out of her wheelchair. When Taylor looks at you she smiles as her head tilts to the side, she tries to wave and then does wave. Lori told me she was a typical girl, a real princess. Nothing at all about Lori indicated a wish for an easier life for herself or for Taylor.

I remember a time when we were talking about something in that order...like does she ever wish for Taylor to be different. Lori said..how can I ever wish that? I'd be wishing for a different daughter. I'd be wishing to never have known the beautiful, wonderful child Taylor is and has become..she has overcome pain, she has endured much hope, she has made a life that she enjoys in a lot of ways as a typical teenager's life. Of course there will be differences. I look at my son who has a few faults, a few things that in someone's world may be wished away and I think how perfect he is and how wonderful. And Lori thinks the same about Taylor.

More than most other mothers would ever admit.

Why do so many people lie? We all do it to some extent. Some really lie all day, every day. Whole lives are lies. Some lie about such nonsense I can't see the rationale. Why? What is so horrible that they can't face? Why do they have to convince themselves and the others around them of these untruths? To feel O.K. about things? To feel good? I am not talkiing about being optimistic or positive. I mean downright altering the truth. Why do some people have to get to a point where things are final, accepted, done.

even...Why do some say "every saturday we do this", or "every Thanksgiving we"..., "I run every day", "my son studies every night"..things like that...a finality. A done deal. In a way, that is a bit of a lie too..I wouldn't go that far really..just a point.

Why do some try to forget a thing by doing something else...over and over to make up for that thing they are forgetting...is that not a lie? Is that not an easy way out?

Why do some priests or clergy have such wisdom or insight? They really don't live in the REAL world....no marriages, kids, jobs with the general public. Somehow, some of them, really do get certain things and are able to preach to the rest of the world, the non- clergy, how we should try to live and think. Of course, some know nothing..but I am not talking of them. I am talking of the wise.

A few weeks ago my husband was in church (for some reason I was not there) and our favorite priest, the parish pastor said the mass. His sermons are always good. My husband relayed his message to me. "Don't wish for an easy life. Easy just makes you lazy". Because it was Father Kelly I thought about this for a while. I value his opinion.

I thought about all the people that lie. I thought about all the lies. I thought about all the finalities. Those lies, those wishful lives they think they live, those stories in their heads are all a means to EASE. I wonder if these people think they are lazy. I wondered how lazy I am.

I started to wonder about what I lie about or what I try to make easy or in what way I wish for certain things to be easy. And then I thought of letting that go, releasing myself from those chains, forgetting those wishes that will never come true, those constant disappointments. They are very little things. But little things build and grow into bigger things. They become weights we carry and sometimes pass on (to our spouses, our kids, our parents, our co workers). My thoughts came full circle to another thought I have often...that most of this stuff we do here on earth means very little...we are little cosmic dust and the things we do and the stuff that happens to us that seem so important really is quite meaningless...and yet, so many little things like how we smile at someone, how we react, how we talk and walk and how we conduct our lives can mean a great deal to others. Most of the stuff that has the most meaning are not the things that are EASY. The easy stuff is just easy.

I never think of myself as a lazy person. Sometimes I long for lazy, I want lazy, but, after a few minutes of lazy I am up and ready for something (lazy is different htan exhausted). So, if we are not afraid of needing lazy, then we don't have to wish for easy, and then the most important wishes, the other ones, will become priorities and that is something that can make us feel very happy.

Think for a moment about uneasy. Think about all the uneasy things in your life: how busy you are, how tired, some ailments you may have, an illness, money problems, missing someone, not being where you want to be, not finding the love you think you have to have, not having a full time companion, or how you have to put up with unbearable children, spouses, co-workers, how hard school or work is, how your wife or husband or kids or grandmother or PATIENTS just won't do as you say, how you are a certain age and never accumulated any assets or wealth or education or job skills or how you are forced to live a life less luxurious than you really planned or how hard it is to raise kids and work and try to do things ... ..think about all that and think about...so what if it isn't easy. Easy would allow us to not think about it anymore...and maybe thinking, learning, growing, cherishing, getting stronger, learning to be content with what has come our way not what we think we controlled, being challenged, having to make decisions for reasons that are beyond what we thought we wanted .... all that is actually better.

If we stop trying for easy, we'll actually strive for what is best. Best is not usually easy, it's not a lie, it's acceptance of the truth of what is REAL. It's making the most of what you've got, it's feeling the happiness you've earned, not made up, not what you THING you've earned (that's a hard one). It's giving up on what you think you have to control, what you think you control and what you think you can't really think about (got that one?).

Giving up on easy may mean different decisions, better decisions.

So, we can stop wishing we'd win the lottery. We can stop wishing our husbands would BELIEVE we are the most perfect or the most beautiful. We can stop wishing our kids would listen and get all straight A's. We can stop wishing for that easy job, that fast meal, that extra 4 hours of sleep a night. If we stop wishing those things we may have to do a bit more, try a little harder, but the relief and sense of accomplishment would over-rule all of that wishing. Knowing I do not need to win the lottery in order for me to quit my job and sit and write all day means I can write and work without the ease of not having any bills. I CAN DO IT! Knowing my kids will survive with not such great grades, or not wearing a coat on a freezing day allows me to release the need to control (which was a way for me to feel more at ease). Facing that devil we need to face...whether that means making amends for something we did wrong or facing the facts about our lives...means not as easy as wishing it all away but, in fact, a relief..that we can admit it and learn and say...yes, I was wrong and I am facing it. How about how easy our lives were when we thought we found the perfect love or had the perfect job and made the perfect amount of money? How about not having that perfect love or job or making good money? We can survive. We can even thrive. We can really be happy. We just need to forgo the things we think we need, the things we want to facilitate ease. Can't afford to buy your son a house? or fund an education? or give a lavish wedding or Bah Mitzvah? SO what..don't do it. OR do it and work your ass off to do what you think is BEST. Some of us work so hard at trying to make things easier and then we wish and pray for more ease. We are so busy wishing and praying and controlling everything is actually hard. Give it up. Relax. Life does not have to be easy. And that is a relief!

Realizing nothing is under our control is the first step. Some of us will never even get past that step. That is a shame...life is so much better when we give up trying to control everything and therefore wishing for things to be easy. Easy, at worst is a lie and at best is lazy. Acceptance of the real truth is true happiness.

I am a big believer in Practice makes Perfect...from Nursing to taking care of babies, doing is the best teacher.

Last night I read the Bake at Home cook book by the Culinary Institute of America...then tonight I tried to make bread. This morning I prepared a sourdough starter...(it is still up in the kitchen..with all the pans and pots and mess)..I ran out of energy. I decided to make baguettes and little rolls...well, they all feel like lead weights, the rolls LOOK nothing like any roll I've ever seen and I've seen millions...I saved them to throw at the kids when they get on my nerves.

I tried a Martha's recipe for chocolate chips but I like the original Toll House recipe better. ..these were crispy and thin...I like chewy and dense. Anyways...I am exhausted and I hate when things do not turn out good in the kitchen. I am a baby. Well..I just have to keep trying. Tomorrow, I will try the sourdough bread (I love sourdough) and hopefully it will be good. Or I will cry.

I tried to remind myself it is January..the month we are supposed to all starve ourselves. .. but I just can't NOT EAT..soo...January or not, I'll keep cooking.

I went back to yoga this week...I really, really love it. It feels so good for me and so calming. My body is aching. I guess that is another reason for my tiredness...I need to rest.

SOOO...I forgot the reason I started all this...does anyone bake bread? ANy secrets? Hints? I used white-wheat bread floud..the wheat is always heavier but so much healthier...I had to have it rise and knead 2-3 times...is that normal??? maybe I'll search the blogs...
I NEED HELP!!! LOL

He was never the nicest guy on the block. Sometimes, he was downright unfriendly. He stomped through the park to and from the market, the gym, and the bank. His stomach grew, his kindness did not..but I was persistent.
"Hi Bernie", I said.
"Hi there", he said.
"How are you?" I asked.
"Awful" he said. "I have lung cancer. They told me I have 6 months to live. I'll be dead by summer".

I was, of course, a bit shocked by his candor, his bluntness, and his seemingly acceptance. He sounded inconvenienced. He sounded less annoyed than perturbed, like, how dare life do this to him? How dare it play so dirty!

But he would show IT!

"What do you mean?" "You looked good". I said. Not really knowing what else to say to this very alert, critical, honest man. I thought we had a little pact..he seemed to hate most things and most people but he liked me and I liked him. He knew that I understood those feelings, that maybe I would be like that someday.

"Well, no matter how I look, I'm a goner", he said.

"Listen if there is anything I can help you with...", I mumbled.

"Like what?" he interrupted.

"Well...I stumbled...meals, going to stores, laundry, medication, anything!"

"I hope to be gone before needing any of that".

How about some bread pudding then? I said.

"Oh, I'd love that", he said. He actually smiled. Bernie loved to eat and food was a subject we talked of on occasion.

OK..."I'll send some over when it's made", I said.

I made the pudding three different times in the next couple of months. Each time I carefully pulled it from the oven, checked it's golden top puffing layer, and with a kitchen towel, hot from the oven, I brought it over to Bernie's, 7 houses east of mine. Homemade whipped cream in a chilled container completed my offering. Surely this would help. Surely he wouldn't be so angry about dying. But that wasn't it exactly. What it was... the time he had left, the months, the weeks, the hours...can't there be a little bit of joy to grab? I wanted to convey that to him somehow.

Each time, Bernie refused to answer the door. He made me nervous. I am sure he watched me from the window. It wasn't that late..one day 4:30 pm, another 6 and another 3p.m. on a Sunday afternoon. I am sure he thought it the wrong time for some reason I could not fathom. I am sure he thought it wrong for some reason. The visit. The pudding. The dying. The forced dealing with death. He'd take control, even if it meant refusing a taste of something he loved. He'd show Life. He'd win.

Then, one afternoon, I saw Bernie getting out of his car. He lost the little hair he had..."Bernie"..I sang..quickly walking toward him. He gave up on the thought of running inside before I could get to him. His head hung a bit. "Hi", I said.
"This was a big mistake", he said.
"What?" I asked.
"The chemo", he said.
"Why?", I asked. "Maybe it will keep you more comfortable or give you a few more months", I tried.
"A few more months for what?" "It's awful, I get sick, have to take these god damm pills and I have to go back and forth to the hospital and it is all a waste". "As of today, I am stopping this nonsense". I never felt more helpless. I am a neighbor, somewhat of a friend (we did give Bernie a ride home once from in town and chatted like buddies...immediately we liked each other and I saw him at the gym from time to time) and I am a nurse for crispy sake. But, I am never good with the dying, especially not the kind that walk, talk and drive while they are racing toward death faster than a speeding bullet. I took his hand and he shook his head. He thought I was pathetic I'm sure. I thought he was brave and angry. What should we do? Ignore him? Nod quietly?

Attempts to bump into him again were met with no results. I asked my family..."have you seen Bernie?"
"Oh, yea, that guy from down the street that lost all his hair? I saw him getting out of his car today", son number 2 said.
"What was he doing?", I asked.
"I think he was coming from the store. He had a bag in his hand", he said.
"Did you talk to him?" I asked.
"No, he didn't see me."

I wondered what he would get at the store. Pain medicine? Food? Warm cola to soothe his nausea?

The next day the house was surrounded by police cars. Bernie's body was taken out on a stretcher, the head well covered. Bernie took his own life. Some said a hanging, others said he shot himself in the head.

I keep wondering what was in his bag. Bullets? A gun? Rope? Whiskey?

Bernie won. Fair and square.

The many people I admire include my kids, especially when they were very young and showed me life through the lenses of the innocent and the all knowing all at once. Others are, of course, my parents: my mother's self confidence and independence are unflappable, my dad has taught me true organic feelings and lots of every day comedy. My grandparents were and will continue to always be my guardian angels. My sister and brother are, well, my sister and brother and fill those spaces just as they should and in a wonderful way. My friends are a challenge as well as an inspiration. All of them. My dog Olive has made me realize Love and Loyalty are easy. All we have to do is Love and be Loyal and usually it will come full circle. My husband continues to be a teacher to me, someone I look up to and admire who has great strengths and character and intelligence and fills most of my needs.

Then there are the outsiders. The people who have, from a distance, affected my life and point of view. Teachers. Clergy. Patients. Musicians. Ballet dancers and actors. Writers. Presidents. Peacemakers. Martha. Nigella. And even strangers.

As you all know by now a good story is fascinating to me. After a deeply affecting story, I become obsessed with the story teller. Movies, especially good ones, certain ones, become some intrinsic pebbles at the bottom of my own interior lake. The told story stays there, the characters and the actors feel transforming to me. Movies, like books allow the realization of things in a concrete way and explore issues and common feelings and ties that may otherwise never get a thought.

I can list on a long sheet of paper admired authors. Actors and Directors are also really fascinating. I like to see HOW a movie is made. DVD's are great for that because there is always extra footage of auditions, interviews, scene selections, etc..The time and energy that goes into making a movie makes me marvel how so many of them are created. It is almost as miraculous as conception.

One stand out writer and director is M. Night Shyamalan. His parents were immigrants from India, both physicians. He and his sister grew up outside Philadelphia and went to familiar schools here. My city is a frequent passive character in his films. His movies are wonderful, his imagination great. Watching him think and create and conjure up his thoughts on paper and then on film is especially thrilling. I really admire him. He is an inspiration.

"Lady in the Water" in the latest of his movies. I rented it last week and never watched it as it really isn't my "kind" of movie. But then I remembered he was the writer and put it on...and was glad I did..it was wonderful in a M. Night Shyamalan kind of way. I loved his other movies too..especially The Sixed Sense. I like his cameo appearances, like Hitchcock, and his surprises.

Just one more person to admire.