As the song goes, "Let's Do It, Let's Fall In Love". I found it appropriate this month to blog on Love since February is the Love Month! To me, in the wedding biz, every day is about Love. My motto is "There is Only Love" from a wonderful piece of music I learned at Seminary.
I've been in a frenzy this month with Bridal Showcases, contacting brides and grooms and brides and brides and grooms and grooms about my wonderful ministry. It is a gift to be able to legally send two people out into the world as a married entity. I have so much fun with it. Love meeting them and hearing about how they fell in love. There are many on-line couples that make it to the altar, so you singles out there-hang in! If Spirit wants you to be with someone, they'll make it difficult for you not to meet!
I was just asked to do a wedding in June with a 1940's theme. Wow! My Mom and Dad fell in love in the 40's and we grew up with that music. Cole Porter is in my blood. Dorsey and the rest of the big bands are what I was weaned on. This should be so much fun! Thank you, Amanda!
Love is contagious, don't you think? I know that when I see lovers holding hands, no matter what age, it's a sign of good health. I grab my honey's hand when I can and we are still happily married after almost 42 years. We love having newlyweds living with us-for the second time. Keeps us focused on the years when we couldn't be apart from each other for a minute!
So, dear ones, love each other this month and each day. Keep it alive in your hearts because, as the Beatles say "All You Need is Love".
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Wildest Dreams
On November 27, 2011, I had the great privilege of being the officiant at my son, Blair and his beautiful wife, Stephanie's wedding. It was a destination wedding in Cancun, Mexico.
The wedding group assembled a few days before the nuptuals for Thanksgiving weekend.
Steph and Blair chose a great all-inclusive place on the Mayan Riviera called Dreams.
And it was dreamy! The water was a beautiful blue, sand a white soft powder and endless amounts of food and drink.
The focus was the young couple. They wanted all of us to bond as a new family as we're all scattered around the country. Friends came from Nevada and California and family flew in from from Massachusetts, California, New Jersey, New York and Connecticut. We sat around on the beach and by the pool for a few days, talking, playing soccer and football, snorkling and getting to know new family members.
The wedding ceremony was at 4 pm on Sunday afternoon. The ladies went to the spa in the morning for some TLC and some of the guys went to play golf. Steph didn't want Blair to see her on her wedding day and friends made sure he didn't. The day was a bit overcast and rain had been predicted. It got progressively darker as 4 pm drew near but the bride and her dad made it down to the Mayan Temple wedding site before the sprinkles came. John, Stephanie's dad had tears flowing as he approached the spot where Blair and the wedding party waited. Stephanie was a vision! My boy looked as handsome as ever, the joy on his face made him glow!
As the mother as well as the officiant, I felt a peace and basked in all the love. The ceremony was their choice and a great one it was. They spoke their vows quietly and reverently. My heart was so full watching the "kids" totally into the moment. They really did marry themselves. We were just the witnesses. The almost forty guests cheered as Blair dipped her at their kiss to seal the deal. The rains started in earnest during the cocktail hour but we held umbrellas over us as we rocked to the Mariachi Band the couple hired to entertain us.
We ate and danced for the rest of the night. Then the bride and groom and a few hard-core wedding goers went dancing some more! I went to sleep that night with a smile on my face, knowing the God above was also smiling at all the love shared.
The wedding group assembled a few days before the nuptuals for Thanksgiving weekend.
Steph and Blair chose a great all-inclusive place on the Mayan Riviera called Dreams.
And it was dreamy! The water was a beautiful blue, sand a white soft powder and endless amounts of food and drink.
The focus was the young couple. They wanted all of us to bond as a new family as we're all scattered around the country. Friends came from Nevada and California and family flew in from from Massachusetts, California, New Jersey, New York and Connecticut. We sat around on the beach and by the pool for a few days, talking, playing soccer and football, snorkling and getting to know new family members.
The wedding ceremony was at 4 pm on Sunday afternoon. The ladies went to the spa in the morning for some TLC and some of the guys went to play golf. Steph didn't want Blair to see her on her wedding day and friends made sure he didn't. The day was a bit overcast and rain had been predicted. It got progressively darker as 4 pm drew near but the bride and her dad made it down to the Mayan Temple wedding site before the sprinkles came. John, Stephanie's dad had tears flowing as he approached the spot where Blair and the wedding party waited. Stephanie was a vision! My boy looked as handsome as ever, the joy on his face made him glow!
As the mother as well as the officiant, I felt a peace and basked in all the love. The ceremony was their choice and a great one it was. They spoke their vows quietly and reverently. My heart was so full watching the "kids" totally into the moment. They really did marry themselves. We were just the witnesses. The almost forty guests cheered as Blair dipped her at their kiss to seal the deal. The rains started in earnest during the cocktail hour but we held umbrellas over us as we rocked to the Mariachi Band the couple hired to entertain us.
We ate and danced for the rest of the night. Then the bride and groom and a few hard-core wedding goers went dancing some more! I went to sleep that night with a smile on my face, knowing the God above was also smiling at all the love shared.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Inspiration
Where do you find inspiration? How do you stretch the creative muscle that we all have inside? How easily do you find the words, the voice, the expression that uniquely makes you the (you)man/woman that you are? What makes you gasp in wonder?
What makes you cry spontaneously? What color makes you look twice and keeps your gaze for just a little while?
We all have inside of us curiosity that causes us to take a little while to assimilate with our eyes, ears, noses. We take thousands of stimulus in each day.
Sometimes, it's just too much to absorb. A day of over-stimulation with noise, including human conversation, often sends me into hibernation the next day. I love people but need balance. When I need a creative fix, I'll take myself to nature, including communing at the beach or our local Arboretum. I find the greatest fix of all in my beloved New York City. The activity heightens my senses. I find in each area of Manhattan a treasure-trove for ideas for writing and reflecting. The creative me sings after a day walking the City streets and being with all that energy. I can tap into my inner Steinbeck or make a date with the ghosts of the Fitzgeralds at The Algonquin. I hear the musicians in the Subway and stop for a while, acknowledging their talents.
At our local Arboretum, year-round, there is ample time to smell the scents of each season, hear the leaves or crunch of snow under my feet. The salt mist from the ocean calls upon the Melville inside of me, imagining what goes on out in the vast ocean. As I sit on the shore, I am called to look at my own "Gifts from the Sea" ala AML.
I take the time for inspiration. It is a discipline that seems more like meditation. Without it, we may as well live under rocks.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
First Day Jitters
Even at the age I’ve become in this life, I still suffer from the angst of “firsts”. First walk into a new doctor seems to be the point where I’m at in this decade. The monthly drop of the Great South Bay Magazine --I am still nervous about you people out there reading my “stuff” each month. Being in the ER with my hubby when you have no idea what the next hour will bring. A ride to the funeral of a young man-fear and grief mixed for the family. First family event without a beloved sibling sitting at the table.
There have been times when firsts have been joyful: Graduations, new babies, weddings and all the preparatory stuff involved in the excitement surrounding the “big day”. The first day of school, whether it is grade school, high school, college, or Seminary. A new school where you don’t know a soul, but after the first month, you know you’re all in it together to make it. It sometimes takes on the “us vs the teacher mentality”! Whatever it takes to survive.
I went to an all-girls high school. You would think the competition wouldn’t have been so bad. Ugly uniforms and no boys in a mixed-sex school setting should put us all on a level playing field. We lost that added pressure to show how smart you were in front of the males. We only had the teacher to schmooze. The teachers, religious women, were anxious for us all to achieve and show the world that we could be the brightest and best. We were taught to be almost arrogant about our position in life and know we were academically head over the “publics”. Not so sure about that posture as the school eventually shut its doors. However, I know that I was stretched and had a great education there. They prepared me for the “first” day of college and every door I walk through to this day.
The mantra we were taught was adapted by a quote from Eleanor Roosevelt:
“I am only one, but I am one. I can’t do everything, but I can do something.
What I can do, I ought to do. What I ought to do, by the grace of God, I will do.” Quite a tall order, don’t you think? It’s still drilled in my head, as you can see, and it’s been a while since I last sat in that big auditorium and heard those words.
I’ve always admired teachers but never had the calling to be one. It is a calling, isn’t it? They devote long days and often nights to molding kids into becoming adults. They have a tough time and keep going back year after year. “Maybe I can make a difference in a life” is the tone. The vocation is daunting but can be fulfilling.
I remember the first day of my first child’s kindergarten. He was all dressed up in his new outfit, complete with boat shoes. He had a little backpack and nametag around his neck. I have a picture of him and his sister walking off to the bus stop with my mother holding each of their hands. Smiles all around, but I know my mom and I were weepy. The “first” of many in our family. My mother has since passed but I know she will be there today in Spirit for my first grandchild’s first day of kindergarten this Fall.
I’m writing this as we prepare for a hurricane. For many, it will be a “first” and the panic has been rampant. Caution for Mother Nature’s fury is good.
Let's hope Irene is benevolent!
There have been times when firsts have been joyful: Graduations, new babies, weddings and all the preparatory stuff involved in the excitement surrounding the “big day”. The first day of school, whether it is grade school, high school, college, or Seminary. A new school where you don’t know a soul, but after the first month, you know you’re all in it together to make it. It sometimes takes on the “us vs the teacher mentality”! Whatever it takes to survive.
I went to an all-girls high school. You would think the competition wouldn’t have been so bad. Ugly uniforms and no boys in a mixed-sex school setting should put us all on a level playing field. We lost that added pressure to show how smart you were in front of the males. We only had the teacher to schmooze. The teachers, religious women, were anxious for us all to achieve and show the world that we could be the brightest and best. We were taught to be almost arrogant about our position in life and know we were academically head over the “publics”. Not so sure about that posture as the school eventually shut its doors. However, I know that I was stretched and had a great education there. They prepared me for the “first” day of college and every door I walk through to this day.
The mantra we were taught was adapted by a quote from Eleanor Roosevelt:
“I am only one, but I am one. I can’t do everything, but I can do something.
What I can do, I ought to do. What I ought to do, by the grace of God, I will do.” Quite a tall order, don’t you think? It’s still drilled in my head, as you can see, and it’s been a while since I last sat in that big auditorium and heard those words.
I’ve always admired teachers but never had the calling to be one. It is a calling, isn’t it? They devote long days and often nights to molding kids into becoming adults. They have a tough time and keep going back year after year. “Maybe I can make a difference in a life” is the tone. The vocation is daunting but can be fulfilling.
I remember the first day of my first child’s kindergarten. He was all dressed up in his new outfit, complete with boat shoes. He had a little backpack and nametag around his neck. I have a picture of him and his sister walking off to the bus stop with my mother holding each of their hands. Smiles all around, but I know my mom and I were weepy. The “first” of many in our family. My mother has since passed but I know she will be there today in Spirit for my first grandchild’s first day of kindergarten this Fall.
I’m writing this as we prepare for a hurricane. For many, it will be a “first” and the panic has been rampant. Caution for Mother Nature’s fury is good.
Let's hope Irene is benevolent!
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Joy Joy Joy
This momentous week started with same-sex couples all over New York getting to Town Halls for legal marriage licenses. Sunday, July 24, was the first day that they were eligible but select offices were open. There is a 24 hour waiting period but for some, it was waived so the first couples started the week of marriages on Sunday!
It is hard to put myself in the shoes of a person who has been denied the same rights that I have because of the way they were born. It flabbergasts me to hear some people parse the word "marriage" as if they owned the word. Like it would tarnish their own long-term marriage. I see couples who have been together in relationships that have worked well for over four decades. Then hetero couples who can't stay together for six months after elaborate weddings.
I'm privileged to have witnessed a momentous ceremony today right here on Long Island. The owner of Carltun on the Green, at Bethpage State Park, opened the doors to almost 50 couples who were married there--free of charge. Dr. Beverly Boyarsky performed a beautiful ceremony which had the whole group in tears. It was powerful, yet intimate and loving. She had them state their vows out loud, present rings and then there was a champagne toast. Children accompanied their parents up and down the aisle. Ages varied from young to old. It was too much to take in. The love was palpable. As an officiant, I was so excited to witness this group wedding. It was historic!
We then were invited into an elaborate reception with lots of food, a DJ with great dancing music and a 4 ft. tall wedding cake. All of this was a gift from the owner of The Carltun. The GLBT community gave financial support and we were given cards to fill out if we wanted to chip in, also. Flowers and the DJ were gifts, too. There were more cameras there than at a coronation! What a fabulous expression of support and love.
My three friend and I had tears in our eyes during the ceremony and clapped for joy as each couple was introduced to the waiting guests. My face still hurts from smiling and my heart is full.
As I said on June 24, the day New York State passed the long awaited law, "Let the Weddings Begin!!"
It is hard to put myself in the shoes of a person who has been denied the same rights that I have because of the way they were born. It flabbergasts me to hear some people parse the word "marriage" as if they owned the word. Like it would tarnish their own long-term marriage. I see couples who have been together in relationships that have worked well for over four decades. Then hetero couples who can't stay together for six months after elaborate weddings.
I'm privileged to have witnessed a momentous ceremony today right here on Long Island. The owner of Carltun on the Green, at Bethpage State Park, opened the doors to almost 50 couples who were married there--free of charge. Dr. Beverly Boyarsky performed a beautiful ceremony which had the whole group in tears. It was powerful, yet intimate and loving. She had them state their vows out loud, present rings and then there was a champagne toast. Children accompanied their parents up and down the aisle. Ages varied from young to old. It was too much to take in. The love was palpable. As an officiant, I was so excited to witness this group wedding. It was historic!
We then were invited into an elaborate reception with lots of food, a DJ with great dancing music and a 4 ft. tall wedding cake. All of this was a gift from the owner of The Carltun. The GLBT community gave financial support and we were given cards to fill out if we wanted to chip in, also. Flowers and the DJ were gifts, too. There were more cameras there than at a coronation! What a fabulous expression of support and love.
My three friend and I had tears in our eyes during the ceremony and clapped for joy as each couple was introduced to the waiting guests. My face still hurts from smiling and my heart is full.
As I said on June 24, the day New York State passed the long awaited law, "Let the Weddings Begin!!"
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Retreat Day
I just facilitated a wonderful women's retreat day at the Montfort Seminary in Bay Shore, NY. It was attended by about 65 wonderful women. I named the topic "What's In Your Toolbox?" and had a big toolbox filled with all the tools needed to get the most out of our spiritual journey.
It was a beautiful summer day and we could meet in small groups outside on the lovely grounds. The day went flawlessly, despite a few glitches with me fighting with the noise of the air conditioner. I was hoarse at the end of the day but happy.
It's interesting watching the faces of the participants. Some are blank, some are animated and you even get a few that talk back at you while you're trying to relay the message! Sometimes, the crowd is hard to read. This particular group really wanted to be there. It's tough for women to take a whole weekend away for a retreat. We were able to give them a few hours to recharge.
It's a privilege to be asked to do days of retreat or recollection. I was humbled by the invitation. I lit a little candle to remember the women who went before us and showed us the way. I also lit it to remember my sister, Stancie. I wished she had some of the peace that I saw in the faces of these sisters. Her picture was in the folder that held my notes. I know she was rooting for me.
We spent some time during a 3 day retreat a few years ago when she made her Cursillo. I was there with her. Later, she worked the retreat as an angel. I forgot about that. Many Cursillo participants sent me notes and Mass cards. They're good pray-ers. We Sheehan sisters are all "Cursillistas". Another bond.
I look forward to the next assignment when I can be of service to a group of fabulous women. Maybe even a few men next time?
It was a beautiful summer day and we could meet in small groups outside on the lovely grounds. The day went flawlessly, despite a few glitches with me fighting with the noise of the air conditioner. I was hoarse at the end of the day but happy.
It's interesting watching the faces of the participants. Some are blank, some are animated and you even get a few that talk back at you while you're trying to relay the message! Sometimes, the crowd is hard to read. This particular group really wanted to be there. It's tough for women to take a whole weekend away for a retreat. We were able to give them a few hours to recharge.
It's a privilege to be asked to do days of retreat or recollection. I was humbled by the invitation. I lit a little candle to remember the women who went before us and showed us the way. I also lit it to remember my sister, Stancie. I wished she had some of the peace that I saw in the faces of these sisters. Her picture was in the folder that held my notes. I know she was rooting for me.
We spent some time during a 3 day retreat a few years ago when she made her Cursillo. I was there with her. Later, she worked the retreat as an angel. I forgot about that. Many Cursillo participants sent me notes and Mass cards. They're good pray-ers. We Sheehan sisters are all "Cursillistas". Another bond.
I look forward to the next assignment when I can be of service to a group of fabulous women. Maybe even a few men next time?
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Loss
My sister, Stancie, died in her sleep on May 25. Her funeral was a week ago today in Marblehead, MA. She was going to be 62 in a few weeks.
What more can I say? How do you blog about a horrible thing like this? I haven't been able to write about it anywhere, and here I am so coldly typing those words on a blog.
I volunteered to say her Eulogy. It was a parting gift to her and to her family(that's me, too) and I was honored, daunted and terrified at the same time. Her daughter, Lucy, wrote her Obit and it was a gorgeous tribute to her loving mother.
It's all been said. We talked and talked, cried and then cried some more. More tears are left in the eye-buckets but mostly, I'm still in shock.
Shock and disbelief. It's so hard to believe I'll never see her sparkling blue eyes and huge smile ever again. Get a big hug. Ask her for clarity on my memories. Include her at family celebrations. Called her number and got her voice--tears came.
See her picture out of the corner of my eye in the living room-tears came. Laughed about our silly Sheehan-isms--tears well up.
Sisters and Brothers--they're not replaceable. Who would you ask something like "Remember when Mom did this?" other than your brother or sister. We shared so much, my first friend and I. That bond never dies. I know it didn't with George, Jr. when he passed in 1999. I still hear his rich voice and see his smile. I pray that for my sister, Stancie.
Miss you forever!
What more can I say? How do you blog about a horrible thing like this? I haven't been able to write about it anywhere, and here I am so coldly typing those words on a blog.
I volunteered to say her Eulogy. It was a parting gift to her and to her family(that's me, too) and I was honored, daunted and terrified at the same time. Her daughter, Lucy, wrote her Obit and it was a gorgeous tribute to her loving mother.
It's all been said. We talked and talked, cried and then cried some more. More tears are left in the eye-buckets but mostly, I'm still in shock.
Shock and disbelief. It's so hard to believe I'll never see her sparkling blue eyes and huge smile ever again. Get a big hug. Ask her for clarity on my memories. Include her at family celebrations. Called her number and got her voice--tears came.
See her picture out of the corner of my eye in the living room-tears came. Laughed about our silly Sheehan-isms--tears well up.
Sisters and Brothers--they're not replaceable. Who would you ask something like "Remember when Mom did this?" other than your brother or sister. We shared so much, my first friend and I. That bond never dies. I know it didn't with George, Jr. when he passed in 1999. I still hear his rich voice and see his smile. I pray that for my sister, Stancie.
Miss you forever!
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