Archive for the ‘Memories’ Category

There are people who come and people who go in our lifetime. There are some who remain in our hearts even after we lose touch or if they have been taken from us … much too soon. Tomorrow is a day I remember to celebrate my friend Ernesto Tono, who sadly lost his long-time battle with pancreatic cancer back in the spring of 2010. Tomorrow is his birthday.

We used to work together for a few years and I found him to be one of the finest individuals I had the pleasure of knowing. He was good from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He was married to a lovely woman and they had exceptionally bright and beautiful daughters.

Ernesto, Peter, Pete and I, (more…)


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It’s the little things in life that end up being the most meaningful to me. The wonder of a tree that has been decorated lovingly by hands old and young. The scent of an extinguished candle. The wafting aroma of burned incense on special occasions. The colorful glow of twinkling lights strung across branches of green. Ornaments kept through the years, sentimental memories of holidays past.

This little santa has been on every tree each year and the smile he gives to me reaches a place in my heart that I keep secret. May your upcoming holidays be spent with those you cherish and may you feel the warmth of the spirit and give of yourself. I believe when we give something no matter how small, the reward is in knowing we have the ability to share and that we choose to do so without expectation.

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The first time I cut my hair I really messed it up. I whacked-off my bangs until there were hardly any left. I cunningly blamed it on the little girl downstairs (I hope she has forgiven me still … although I’ll never ever know for certain), and lied to my parents while wearing a straight face. I was five at the time and I knew better. It didn’t take my intelligent parents long to investigate all the facts and they made me apologize to the neighbor’s daughter. Inwardly I shrugged my small shoulders and hoped I wouldn’t get my bum soundly spanked. Picture if you will, the shortest bangs ever and that was the way I appeared until they grew out. It took a few weeks before I was back to my normal style.  (more…)

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"Golden Surf" by Robert Wood

What I am looking at right now. This was my late Mother’s favorite painting. She purchased it around 1968. She doted on the painting created by artist, Robert Wood. Many times I would find her staring deep into the intricate waves, over and again … just as I have done and still continue doing. My favorite focal point, is where the light shines through the left-side of the wave as it is beginning to fall upon itself. It is a splendid work of art and I don’t think I shall ever tire of it.

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The summer I was fourteen (almost fifteen), and my sister Mary was eighteen, we were invited by our Parents to join them for a week-long stay at Downingtown Inn, located in Downingtown, PA, in Chester County. We were joined by our Auntie and Uncle, and theirs and my Parent’s best friends, too.

The days were ours to spend walking about, playing card games by the pool and swimming until we were exercised. Afterward we would suntan on our brightly-colored beach towels; although there wasn’t a spec of sand in sight, other than the golf course. We would get together for breakfast, lunch and then everyone dressed up for dinner, entertainment and dancing. The popular dances of our parent’s generation was within the arms of a dancing partner, and we had such a delightful time learning the dance steps from our three gentlemen partners. I must confess that each did their own version of the Foxtrot, so Mary and I had to watch our steps and our toes.

I loved dressing up and everyone was refined. There was a lot of booze being served (we had Shirley Temples), and I believe my Father allowed my sister to sip some of his drinks, too. She was after all, eighteen. The evenings were filled with big band music and later Mary and I would go poolside to listen to the local bands pounding out the top hits of the day.

One afternoon, my Father came looking for me. I had been sneaking a cigarette smoke and didn’t have time to use mouth wash, so I kept my conversation under my breath. He instructed me to follow him and I thought I was in trouble because he kept hurrying me along. We ended up at the swimming pool! What? It was jammed packed with the guests. I looked at my Dad with question marks clearly visible in my eyes. He smiled that wonderful smile of his and announced to all there, “Here she is and I bet you she can do it!” Do what I wondered.

The man standing at the edge of the deep end told me he was throwing twelve (I watched the movements of his hands as he threw) silver spoons into the twelve-foot deep water. I was to be afforded one huge gulp of air and expected to retrieve all twelve spoons. Really!

I was a bit winded from being hurried up the hill after my illicit smoking, but I could see how very much this meant to my Mom and Dad. They both wore the same, assurance and faith, shining from their faces. I nodded and every one cheered. Oh boy! I centered my focus, looked to see the spots of glimmering silver and breathed in deep breathes of air. My lungs were as full as I could make them be. I dove in.

It is true you can hear sounds from underneath the water and they were cheering and laughing. I quickly darted from spoon-to-spoon, picking up the utensils until I got to the last one. Wouldn’t you know! I could not hold six spoons in each hand. I kept dropping it and I kept after it. Finally, I exhaled some air and went back to the last one. I put it into my mouth and pushed my way up from the bottom of the pool. A rousing cheer almost deafened me as I placed eleven spoons on the cement and then pulled the last one from my teeth. I had done it! I was so glad not to be in trouble for the smoking and that I had proved my Father right. I was patted on the back many times and hugged by everyone in my party, including my sister! Woo-Hoo!

I shall always remember winning the tiny little trophy. I believe I gave it to my Parents. I felt very proud that day. It was our version (dirty dancing) vacation.  😀

I heard it burned down and they rebuilt it.  Here is a link.



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I knew way back then I had a gift. I could see into the future and even though I got to borrow this costume (there was another little girl sharing duties for the Muscular Dystrophy Carnival), I was especially glad to tell Laura’s Mother’s fortune. We were delighted when asked if we would pose for the camera. This is one of those memorable moments in time that I love to visit. My summer days were nearing the end, and I was about to start sixth grade. What an innocent time that was. I am such  a lucky girl, but I knew that way back then.

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Neat Clutter

I was talking about all of the Post-it stickies I have all over my desk yesterday and a little while ago, my eye caught sight of this lovely Chicago coffee mug, which as given to me by a former and dear work colleague. I liked it so well that I decided a few years back to keep in on my desk, so I would be able to look at it and think about all of the good laughs we had together.

At some point I must have agreed with myself to use it as a handy pencil and pen holder, and not as a drinking container. From time- to-time, I find that I will grab a writing tool only to discover it no longer works. Instead of discarding the unusable item, I place it back into the mug and continue my frantic search until I have found one that still writes. Along the way, I have added a few other items to my mug, even squeezed them in, because I can look at them, too. I guarantee if you tried to write with more than half of these pencils or pens, you would soon find they don’t work.

The question remains: Why do I not toss them out? I don’t know. I even paper clipped a few doodles I well … doodled back in June 2002. My pass to BBC 2003 and the memory of where I drank tea with milk. No, I didn’t want the milk but the receptionist insisted. Terrible experience for one who only drinks plain tea, but the London excursion, business for the husband and fun for me, is another reason this souvenir is in my coffee mug. I am a collector of mementos and freely admit to still having my old boyfriend’s love letters and photos, too. I did warn my husband I would never get rid of those. He’s not concerned.

I have my personal treasure troves and memories. I take them out and dust them off sometimes, and you may be certain I shall never toss those away. I’ll think about the non-working writing utensils … but that’s it!

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