Maggie's Thought for the Week: Don't Look Back

They say looking back is a sign of regret. If this is so, then Maggie had no regrets. We should all live with such passion & confidence.

Maggie, like most dogs, loved riding in the car. She always looked out the front window, and sometimes the side; especially if a squirrel was in her vision. We would drive to our favorite walking places on the weekends. She would jump out of the car and follow the trail ahead of us. Upon leaving, she would never look out the rear window to catch one more glimpse of our hiking adventure. She would always be looking out the front window with anticipation of what was coming next. The walk was done. It was great. It's over. Move on.

People spend a lot of time looking back. The usual scenarios of over thinking a relationship that has ended, leaving a place of employment, or analyzing one's parenting skills. What is the purpose of looking back? Is it helping you move forward?

Maggie brought love & excitement to everything she did. She was happy to be where she was, and she was happy when it was time to move forward. Not always knowing what was waiting for her, but always believing the best was yet to come.

What a great way to live.

When It's Family...Everyone Has 'Their Dish'

I don't know how it happens, but I can honestly say every family has it happening to them. Every party, special occasion or impromptu meeting lends to a relative earning the title- Their Dish.

As a child, I knew a family reunion meant mom was making potato salad. At Christmas, I knew which casserole came from every aunt & mom always baked the cookies. My grandma had her special way of making chicken & my nanny made spaghetti and meatballs. My dad makes the best lasagna. Everyone loves my sister's stuffing. As for me, the requests range from deviled eggs, brownies and pasta fagoli.

I find the label comforting. An inner feeling of joy, knowing you are making someone else happy, just by sharing something you take pleasure in creating. The gift of food & sharing time with one another. It creates memories that, at times, helps us through difficult moments. It creates lasting relationships & peaceful resolutions.

They say you can't be mad at somebody once you break bread with them. You may not like them, but you will leave the table understanding them.  And, when you understand someone, your hate towards them is replaced with prayers & patience.

Maggie's Thought for the Week: Quiet Time Is Important

Our life journey includes many stages. One day we find ourselves worrying about college loans and the next- it's worries about mortgage payments & caring for our family. 

  

Whenever I share my worries, I receive the same solemn advice: just breathe, this too shall pass. Sometimes, life gets so loud & fast pace, it is difficult to just breathe. The result can be a migraine, decrease in patience towards our loved ones, or even the 'it's time to open the container of chocolate ice cream'.

  Maggie would often find a quiet place when the company stayed too late or the neighborhood party became too loud. She never barked or whimpered at the inconvenience.  Many times,
I would find her curled up on a cushion on the deck or her favorite corner in the bathroom.
 
Maggie knew the importance of removing herself from a situation that was becoming overwhelming. As adults, we often feel the need to fix everything or help everyone who asks. We often forget the importance to 'step away' and find our own quiet time.

The other day, I felt agitated just thinking about my to-do list for work & home. I took a deep breath. I made myself a cup of coffee and sat on my deck. I watched the hawk swirl in the sky, admired my beautiful mums, and observed the leaves starting to change colors. I didn't complete my to-do list that day, but I did find some quiet time for myself...and that's important, too.

When It's Family...I Think of Mom's Roses

I love flowers. My mom had lots of flowers in our yard, and always tended to them in the summer evenings. Her rose bushes smelled beautiful, and bloomed from spring to late fall.

My mom received her rose bushes as a gift from her father-in-law, my Grandpa Frank. My grandfather loved flowers. He owned a flower store and worked long hours & many holidays. I'm sure he appreciated the care my mother took with the rose bushes. I learned from her the importance of tending to something with care, and giving just enough fertilizer & water.

The greatest reward with flowers is giving them to others. I remember my mother wrapping freshly cut roses in a wet paper towel and aluminum foil. Then, my sister and I would take the roses to school for our classroom teacher. (It didn't help with my grades.) Other times, she would give a rose to a neighbor. A smile from the recipient every time!

Now, the rose bushes are in my yard. Just the other day, I picked the last few buds before our first New England frost arrived. I placed them in a small vase in my kitchen and hoped they would bloom. The next morning, as I walked downstairs, I could smell the beautiful scent of the roses. I walked into my kitchen and saw them all in bloom. I smiled.


*******************************************************************************************
Someone recently asked me where I get my ideas. I get my ideas from my memories- the good & bad ones. Whenever I see rose bushes- I think of my mom, lazy summers spent at home playing with the kids in the neighborhood, and having chores in the yard- which I loved! I take all those memories and, with a little creativity, write a story. The following is an excerpt from the soon to be released 'Legacy of Grandpa's Grapevine'. The lesson that Grandpa Frank is trying to teach Elizabeth was written from the reflections I shared in today's blog: When It's Family...I Think of Mom's Roses.

“Not yet, don’t rush when you plant flowers. You plant flowers like you plant your life. You see, first you loosen the soil. You see if it’s good to grow things here, not too many rocks to get in your way. Then, you arrange the flowers on the ground and take a few steps back like so and say, yes, all looks good. I wouldn’t change a thing. Then, you cover the roots with a little dirt and give a little food and care and then you watch them grow.”  Grandpa Frank stepped back to admire the first planted row of flowers.

          “And now I plant the white, Grandpa Frank?”

          “Yes. You see, it gets easier as you go along, just like life. That first row you make, you must be very careful and have everything just so. Or everything else will not look so nice.”

Maggie's Thought for the Week: You Have Better Things To Do

Maggie and I would walk every morning at six o'clock. Our walk consisted of the street up & down our neighborhood, and at times, a turn down a cul-de-sac. Maggie had some special friends she always visited, and a few 'claimed territories' to leave her calling card. The neighbors would set their clocks by our walks.

When Maggie was three years old, she started to get wise to some of the neighborhood dogs. A few would always yelp and jump along side their invisible fence. Their actions seemed to annoy Maggie. She was content to just say hello with a wag of her tail, and maybe a quick sniff. In response to their unwanted actions, Maggie would often pull on her leash to cross the street. If they weren't going to change, she would make the change. Maggie had better things to do.

In life, you can't help everyone change their negativity, inappropriate behavior, or poor life choices. You can change your actions. Sometimes, we just have to move forward and accept the things that are out of our control. You have better things to do.

America the Beautiful...St. Augustine, Florida

St. George Street, in Saint Augustine, will provide a traveler with fine restaurants, original store fronts and the oldest wooden schoolhouse in America. Although the exact date of the construction is unknown, it first appears on the tax records in 1716.

The British burned the city in 1702. While under Spanish rule, the schoolhouse was built some time between the fourteen years of 1702 to 1716. The structure walls are made of bald cypress & red cedar, and held together by wooden pins & iron spikes.

The schoolhouse was first built as a home for Juan Genoply; the first school teacher. He married and transformed the home into the first co-ed school in 1788. He added the second floor to provide living quarters for his family. The backyard of the schoolhouse has a well and outhouse. The kitchen can also be found in the backyard. It was kept separate from the schoolhouse due to fear of fire, and to keep the home cool in the summer months.

In 1937, the schoolhouse was secured with an anchor & chain; protection against hurricanes. The pecan tree on the premises is estimated to be 250 years old.

God Bless America

When It's Family...Everything Is a Teachable Moment

September 11, 2001 has become a day etched into the memories of my generation; just as the attack on Pearl Harbor for my grandparent’s generation.  Both events remind one of indescribable horror and senseless loss of lives. Those two historical days will forever teach us one valuable lesson: our family is our top priority.

The morning of September 11, 2001 found me at work, like most Americans. I was teaching at an elementary school. Many of the students had parents who worked at a nearby Naval base. I recall some students being dismissed and whispers in the hallway. Approximately eleven o’clock, I was told the news. I immediately went to my cell phone and called home. Knowing my family was safe, and letting them know I was safe, was all that mattered.

The days following 9-11 seem like a dream. However, I remember calling my family every evening and spending time with my neighbors in the apartment complex. No one wanted to be alone, and most had family far away. Every television channel was covering New York City and the Pentagon. All other programs didn’t seem important: Big Brother, Access Hollywood…how can anyone make that a priority?

I hope we never have another day like September 11, 2001. However, I wish people didn’t stop behaving like they did the days following that horrific event. People spent more time with their family & friends, strangers were nicer to each other because nothing seemed worthwhile to get mad about, and our U.S. flag was visible on almost every front porch and car.

Maybe our grandparents (those survivors of Pearl Harbor) were smarter than us. They prioritized family dinner over staying late at work, their shows on television valued family life and laughter instead of violence and gossip, and they honored their country, because even with her faults- there is no better country than America.

 America has its faults as a society, as we have ours.
But I think of the Union of America born out of the defeat of slavery.
I think of its Constitution, with its inalienable rights granted to every citizen still a model for the world.
I think of a black man, born in poverty, who became chief of their armed forces and is now secretary of state Colin Powell and I wonder frankly whether such a thing could have happened here.
I think of the Statue of Liberty and how many refugees, migrants and the impoverished passed its light and felt that if not for them, for their children, a new world could indeed be theirs.
I think of a country where people who do well, don't have questions asked about their accent, their class, their beginnings but have admiration for what they have done and the success they've achieved.
I think of those New Yorkers I met, still in shock, but resolute; the fire fighters and police, mourning their comrades but still head held high.
--British Prime Minister Tony Blair

Maggie's Thought for the Week: It's Okay to Lick the Bowl

I love watching dogs eat. They lick their lips as you are preparing their food, their eyes never leave the bowl as you carry it to them, and they lick the bowl clean.

Maggie was no exception. Her licks became more intense when dinner included a little gravy, couscous, or the special treat of vanilla ice cream. The bowl would spin around and she would spin with it. There wasn't any trace of her meal left in the bowl. It looked like dinner had never been served.

As humans, we are raised with manners and table etiquette. I don't want to see someone licking their plate in a restaurant. However, it does make me happy when I have dinner guests 'scrap up' every last morsel on their plate. I enjoy company entering my home and smiling with delight, as they smell the pasta fagoli cooking on the stove.  Ask for seconds, you are my new best friend!

Maggie loved licking her bowl. She enjoyed her food. I was happy knowing she was happy. It doesn't get much better than that. 

When It's Family... You Go to the Fair

As a child, I waited with anticipation for the Apple Harvest Festival in my hometown. People would save seats along the sidewalk with their lawn chairs to insure the best view of the parade. There was always a line for fried dough, kelly dogs and apple fritters. The weekend of Arts & Crafts meant finding someone a gift for the approaching holidays.

Fairs provide people with a sense of community. A time when people share their pride in public service, volunteer clubs and home-town goods & services. Reminders of what was important 'back then' and what remains special to us now. A helpful hint that we are stronger when we work together.

While I was writing 'Legacy of Grandpa's Grapevine', I wanted to include the Apple Harvest Festival in the story. I thought it was important for people to be reminded that, once upon a time, downtown merchants really did exist, and festivals served the purpose of people enjoying each others company & meeting new neighbors.

The story will be released soon by Helping Hands Press. Until then, I hope you enjoy this excerpt from the book; I enjoyed writing about Grandpa Frank & Elizabeth.
 

The fair was a great way for Grandpa Frank to discuss his life story with Max.  I think someone wanting to find out what America was all about from an immigrant amused my Grandpa. We showed Max the downtown, and Grandpa retold stories about how it used to look and all the ‘old-timers’ that owned family stores.  We ate some food and walked the fairgrounds. Grandma Marie never bought anything at the craft booths. She always said it meant more to create those simple decorations yourself. It’s what made a house into a home.

          “Do you have a downtown like this in your hometown, Max?” asked Grandpa Frank.

          “We used to, but there are more mini-malls now than mom and pop stores.”

          “That’s the problem with the young people today. There is no sense of community. When I came to America, I had a family already here waiting with open arms to take care of me and my Marie. We had to stick together. Those Irish wanted us back on the boat.”

          “I remember reading about that. It must have been tough.”

          “A little.” Grandpa Frank rubbed his chin. “No more difficult than young people today. At least Marie and I had people to take care of us, look out for us and show us the way. Today, you young people think you can do it all on your own. You live in a town with strangers, you have fancy storefronts, but you don’t even know the people inside. Sometimes fancy isn’t always better, capisce?”

          “So, most of your friends no longer have the stores?”

          “Yes, some have stayed in town.  Some have gone to that place they call paradise.”

          “Heaven?” asked Max.

          “No, Florida.” Grandpa Frank gave a loud laugh. “I got you, yes?”

          “Yeah, you got me.”

          “So, Elizabeth says you want to take my picture?”

          “Yes.” Max looked around for me.

          “Yes,” I answered, as I turned toward them. “Max is a great photographer and he is trying to capture the true essence of America.”

          “And I am this America?” Grandpa Frank stood tall and brushed the wrinkles from his shirt.

          “I thought you could be one of the characteristics I was trying to capture. You know, the man who comes from Ellis Island and makes a new life for himself.”

          “What makes you think I started a new life?”

          “Well, I just thought, you know you had to start all over again in a new country.”

          “I’m just teasing you, Max.  I guess a young man like you would think that way. I look at my life and think I would have lived the same way in Italy.”

          “But Grandpa Frank,” I interrupted, “I thought you said you came to America for a better life?”

          “I came to America for better opportunities, yes.  But I did not live any differently when I came to America. You see, you young people think how you live is what you have. I think how I live by what I do.  When I come to America, I still love my wife and I raise my children and I am a good citizen.  I would do that in Italy, too.”

          “I guess that counts as the speech for the day.”

          “No speech Elizabeth, just my true essence. You see Max, I learn quick, yes?”