Welcome, thanks for coming…and you are helping to prove a point. When the initial planning for our gathering here today was being discussed, I thought we might be holding Mom’s Memorial Service on Wednesday. Oh NO Dad said, it will be on Saturday. Why Dad? Because your mother always said if you hold a Memorial Service in the middle of the week no one comes.

And so it is. In 51 years, I have observed and learned so much from my mom. I really feel the need to spread the wealth.

Be positive, life is hard enough. Assume people are there for you, problems will be solved and things are going to work out. Sometimes you might be disappointed, but usually you aren’t…

Develop relationship deliberately and intensely
Mom had 4 kids, but she really had 8. She loved our partners as she loved us, sometimes, at least in my case, taking their side more often than not. I can’t tell you how much that bonds a family.
Grandparent with doing. Mom loved to engage her grandchildren in activity. They cooked, sewed, played cards, read and traveled together.

Let your partner be the good guy in your children eyes. Allow the room and space to let him be beloved..because when they grow they will know you did the heavy lifting and love you even more for it

Stay in touch with your family, even when they are far away. Mom did, not only with her siblings, but with her nieces and nephews and we are all richer for it.

Collect interesting jewelry.

Never give your kid’s teachers teacher ornaments, mugs or pins. They really accumulate and it is hard to think of hurting a child’s feelings by passing them on. but you do, just look at any thrift store

Cook cook cook..you will hear more about that in a bit
Travel travel travel….

Everyone should have a few small vanities…for my mom it was her nails…she recently loved to have her nails done and she would fuss with this one or that one “splitting” and her hair. Mom loved her hair,
so thick and dark, never grey and when she lost it, she and we were sad. But then it came back, soft and brown. She was thrilled when she could comb it over, but I thought she was rocking the pixie cut.

Don’t say, I told you so
Always say I know you can do it

Here is the thing about our mom
She never sat in the sun…thus, her beautiful skin
She couldn’t swim..she was actually very afraid of the water
Not really a steamed crab picker and she would fuss a little when Frank and Nick would take over her kitchen to shuck oysters. Yet she used her money to start the beach house venture. She knew, intentionally, she wanted a place, a special place to continue to build her family, local and far away. Thank you Mom, for everything.

Mom’s death was a shock, we knew of her cancer, but honestly, you always think you have more time. She died of a massive stroke, perhaps brought on by her hypercalcemia…but I think her stroke was God’s mercy. God opened a window, allowing her to escape weeks or months of pain and suffering. and Rita May was smart enough to jump, jump into the arms of her loving Savior. Thanks be to God.

Summer, hold up, where ‘ya goin?

The celebration of the New Year is horribly misplaced on the calendar. December 31st, don’t we have enough going on…Christmas, Jimmy Buffetts birthday, MY birthday..but to throw a big deal like New Years in that week..a mistake for sure.

There is no logic to it. The weather doesn’t change. Nothing starts fresh, kids go back to the same classroom. OK, maybe not if you are in college, but most people don’t go up a grade.

This time of the year is the logical time for New Years.
A new school year. New routines. A new haircut(sorry Sam)

but back to the regret. I don’t have anyone I have to get out of bed to catch the bus(like that happened, my guys were self risers from elementary school) And the weather is so tempting..sunny hot weather just begging for a beach day So people my age take “fall get-aways”. Sounds good to me. But no matter get aways you take, you know those hot sunny days are numbered.
Sigh

But I would like to know how other people feel about this.
I think Spring is a very volatile season.

Take the weather. I would never want to plan a wedding in the Spring. It could be 85 degrees, it could be 45. Just look at the poor prom participant-getting rained on, windblown, freezing in their strapless satin gowns.

Or maybe it’s the car wrecks.
I hate the news on Sunday night, especially a Sunday night after the weather has been nice. Kids flying down the highway, no care in the world, a little beer in the belly and boom, tragedy.

Or maybe no beer…just spring. Spring fever..the feeling of abandon, freedom, recklessness

Don’t even get me started on the tornadoes.
Oh yeah, I already talked about the weather.

So I would like to know how you feel about it. Is spring fuzzy ducks and chicks, blades of new grass? Rebirth, gentle breeze, warm sun? Gust of wind, sudden storm, unpredictible outburst? Season of change, testing limits, success and failure?

Let me know.

But we still need to dump this stupid tradition we call April Fools Day.

What is this “holiday” all about? Trying to trick someone. Trying to pull one over on someone. Harmless fun. OK, I guess. Court jesters, clowns and fools have been around as long as man has. The court jester was often the only man who could tell the king the truth without fear of retribution.

But this holiday is something different. It’s taking pleasure at someone elses discomfort. It’s having a laugh at someone else’s expense. Being deliberate in the deception.

Now before you think I am some anal stick in the mud(and I might not be denying that I am) let me confess that I have been guilty of a slight deception in my day. Ask my husband about the fake chicken blood caper at Ginos in 1978. But I felt guilty doing it. I didn’t like tricking him. and I really don’t like wondering if I was next. paranoid.

So lets just get through the day. and when you hear upsetting news or something that seems off or not right, ignore it

or suspect it
and see if you still hear it tomorrow.

So here goes, cheese popcorn, the tar smell of fresh asphalt, a VW bus, a Plymouth Valiant, a butter crunch ice cream cone with chocolate sprinkles

Fanta Grape soda, the smell of an old church sanctuary, stained glass, cement sidewalks with chalk lined hopscotch outlines, the feeling of sand between your toes, the sound of the surf, wind blowing through an open car window, sweet green grapes

The intersection of York Road and Belvedere Avenue, Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus, the hymn, This is My Father’s World, big old fashioned Christmas lights

You should try this! I want you who are so inclined to make your own list. I want those of you so inclined to put your list, or part of it, as a comment to this blog. You all know the song, My Favorite Things with Julie Andrews. That chick can sing! I saw a video on YouTube of a dance performance to that song in a train station. That video made me really happy. Cry a little. just like the list

So watch the video. and make your list

No, this is not a metaphor, my monkey, my adorable stuffed monkey who lives in my “My heart belongs to a Retriever” coffee mug, who lives on my desk at work is wearing a green bowler hat. A glitter hat, a St Patty day hat!!

and so it is..St Patricks Day.

My favorite SPD memory is from the 80s. You remember the 80s, those of you especially who are my age. We were young 20 year olds, no kids, no responsibilities(well that’s not really true, but I suppose in retrospect it might be) And SPD was on a weekend. And I really wanted to go to the parade.

Now I was attached to someone at that time who worked…a lot.. and he didn’t want to/couldn’t go to the parade..so I asked my best friend to go and she and her boyfriend and I went to Charles Street and saw the parade and went to the bar and worried about where to go to the bathroom.

In all we had a marvelous time.

And even now I get a sniff of it. You know when the seasons are changing, and spring is in the air…just a whiff, just a glimpse. And it wasn’t just the change of season, the promise of new life in the air I sensed that day, it was a change in my life. A whiff of fun.. a scent of joy.. a change a comin’

So I have always had a soft spot for the day..for the Irish.. for the sad songs, and delicious beer, and laments and revelry that come with living life on all cylinders. Of laughing together and crying together and living one moment fully in the moment. And a good SPD gives you all that, a glimpse of that

at least it did for me

Seems like a bit of a leap, to be taking about a vaca when earlier this week I was talking about my mom starting her ride on the Zipper.
But I’ve gotta get outta Dodge.

Yes, I’m running. Downa ocean hon, to the place where, no matter how crazy my life has ever gotten, or how sad I might be, all is good. I know all is not always well on the shore, but the minute I cross that bridge over the Chesapeake, I feel like I am on my way to the promised land.

I go to the beach when I am happy too. So many family trips, so many holidays celebrated, so many times when we all hunker down for some J&J Pancakes, a trip to Acts, a Grotto Pizza, an Inter-family Food Smackdown. Laughing and talking and sharing.

This time I am taking only the immediate family unit. The weekend is one that straddles the two young adults spring breaks. Coming, going, visiting their g-ma. They are taking a break, catching a breath in their hard work and I guess I need to do the same thing.And I am so excited to be with them. To catch up on their lives, to play a board game and eat some pizza and watch the cable shows they probably now can watch all the time..except they don’t have the time.So I am making the time. and I am excited about it.

So I am running. But I am catching a breath

and catching a break

and taking a break to be with the ones I love. And I’ll be back soon.

My sister commended me for using the medical lingo-hey, that’s her speciality- thank God! She has been to every appointment and faithfully documenting…and we are grateful.

So here we go
I feel like we are approaching the first hill of a rollercoaster. An “Amusement” ride we should name. We can’t call it “The Beast”..that name is reserved for the cancer itself. Not the Scrambler or the Swings. Well, my catalogue of ride names is exhausted so I went to Wikipedia, the holder of all 21st century knowledge. Lets see some of their suggestions:
There is one called the Intimidator- ok that is relevant. Another is called Insanity..I may feel like I am losing it, but what we are doing now is not insane. The Typhoon, the Whip, the Grizzly..all pretty scary.

Well, here is a blast from the past: The Zipper. There is a Zipper on the Boardwalk in Ocean City. Frank used to ride it with his sister every summer. The ride looks contained, a cage, confining and cramped. It goes around and around, no destination, it can make you vomit(right Matt R:))

But a Zipper can also open things…a coat…a bag…a body(at least my friends with multiple c-sections wished they had a zipper) .  And it can close things a snow suit, a garment bag, a zip lock bag, a body bag.

Now back to the process: R-CHOP, Chemo, treatment, hair loss, other loss, fear, closeness, faithfulness, hope, prayer, hope, medical science, faith, love, her , us, we, family…oops sorry there, just a little free association. Anticipation for this lends me to free form thinking. Trying to anticipate how it will go Trying to figure out how I feel

and the reminder that this is not my ordeal, it’s hers. Her journey, her health, her body, her ride. And what she wants, what she needs is what is important. And how she feels

and how we are there

to be on the ride with her

so hold on tight…here we go

I didn’t think the day would ever come! Me..not want to wear my uber-comfy clothes?

But yes, here it is.
Bring on the dress pants.

I can’t say it wasn’t fun.
The cooking.
The eating .
The drinking. The movie watching.

But it gets old. As do all things “other” when they cease to be “other.
This must be the reason you hear of people leaving paradise for their old hometowns. A vacation is meant to be an “other” not an every day. An escape, not a norm. And this weather has been anything but normal. Parents everywhere are begging for schools to reopen. Kids might actually want to go back to school, if only to see their friends. The only people not complaining are the grocery stores and hardware stores, laughing all the way to the bank.

But “normal” is good. It gives structure, it gives rhythm. Work can be the routine that gives the weekend it’s spice. Special foods aren’t special if you eat them all the time. A person can only watch “Best in Show” so many times. So I am glad to be back to regular.

If only to wearing my dress pants.

She’s a girl and her name is Nora. And when I say she was just born, I mean she was just born..today..at 2:16 this afternoon.

So this is her first day of life.
Wow

A new life is always a wonder. On each of my children’s birthdays I remember back to that “just given birth” feeling. The sense of satisfaction. The overwhelming gratitude that all went well. The endless possibility. I knew the gender of each of my children. No, not knew biologically, remember my kids were born in the stone age, where you only found out gender if they did “amnio” which you avoided like the plague. Even the ultrasounds were blobs. The picture looked like a lima bean. Maybe it is my lack of imagination, even todays ultrasound pics look like lima beans to me.

What I mean is I knew my children…I knew T was a boy and I most certainly knew E was a girl. Especially E and everyone said I was wrong. The doc put E on my belly and I just said hi. because she had been my constant companion for 9+ months and I felt like I knew her and now she was here.

And now Nora is here.

She has two great parents and a big sister. She has a large loving family, excited to receive her. So Happy Birthday Nora!!

Welcome to the world!