BEING A FRIEND

It's been a while since I blogged.  Almost six months.  Doesn't mean that I have stopped writing, creating and putting this name out there.

My book was launched into the world in February.  It is quite a beauty, I must say.  I have a few boxes to fly out to all of your hands, but this blog is not a commercial.  It's a big hug.

I've had life-long friends in my piece of  New York where I live.  That doesn't include the New York City and try-state area loves I've met along the journey.  I try to be in contact with people, and social media helps.  It is not like a personal phone call or a few lines written down by hand, signed "With Love" from me.

Life-long friends are hard to come by as we age.  My husband, who is six years older, has had a few pass away in the last 5 years.  That actually terrifies me.  My siblings have gone, they were younger.  There were (sorta) good reasons why their lives were cut short.  But to make it to 60 plus years and have a friend die...well, that cuts me to the core, sometimes.  That is called mortality.

We've aged, I know.  Does that mean that we can't see each other as young souls anymore?  Do they see me as my little hippie wannabe in my teens and 20's?  Do I judge them because they let their hair grey?  Dare we keep the conversation going as we age, bringing out all the aches and pains, surgeries, deaths, upsets that life gets thrown at us in our aging?

We spent a few months in the Florida sunshine.  I call it going into the "Witness Protection Program" since nobody knows your background or financial situation.  It was hard to make friends for me.  I have so many women and men that I can be real with.  It's like starting over in Kindergarten, making friends, breaking into the "in" crowd, being seen with the "popular" people.  It's lovely not to know who those people are!  I come back to my hometown and take a deep breath.  Yes, I may not see the old gang at first.  I may not see them at all.  But the memories are here.  The weekends at Fire Island, the friends whose kids grew up with ours, all the  memories of baseball, soccer, First Communions, Graduations and parties on Saturday nights.  The comfort I feel just having the air around me know that this is where we sprung our roots together.

If I have been a good friend to you, I'm glad.  If there is anything I failed to do, please forgive me.  Because you are important to me.

Sitting in the Silence

The year has been busy and eventful.  My beautiful book, "Sitting in the Silence",  has been through the pushing, pulling, revising, sprucing up by one of my favorite Graphic Artists and is just about ready to be launched.

Anyone who has written a book knows the merry go round an author goes through getting the book out into the hands of readers.  Writing the book was easy!  It now seems like it is a baby way way beyond its due date.  This mommy is tired of pushing.

I know it is a long time coming and most of my families eyes glaze over when I bring up "My book".

I do care about what my readers think of it and I think you'll all be pretty blown away.  After all, I was blown away when I saw what it will finally look like.

When I asked my friend, Dawn Daisley, to help me, I really was stuck.  I knew the publisher was waiting for something- anything -from me.  Dawn put all the puzzle pieces together and made it look like a book--Voila!  She took the photos and made them look so much better than the ones I took.  She held my hand and told me that we could do this thing.  She was my mentor and IT wizard.  I'm so grateful to have made that phone call in August!

Now the work begins and there is more pushing involved.  Marketing, Media, Social Media, you name it!  Here we come!  I would love you all to leave your reviews on Amazon and Barnes & Noble.  It is important (I found out) to moving the book into book stores.  

Oh, and it is about Meditation and the way the sitting quietly has come to help me.  I am sure you will enjoy "chewing" on the words that correspond to each bench picture.  Maybe take a break in January.  Be Still and Know that I am God.  

A Wild Ride

I have been on some wild journeys since I last blogged.  First, I am putting the finishing touches on my book "Sitting in the Silence".  It should be out by Christmas, or maybe soon after the New Year.  It's been a long slog, and I've really enjoyed every minute of the work.

I also have been traveling-Went to Alaska in June with 25 wonderful woman(and one guy).  It was a dream come true, in fact, we were called "The Bucket List Gang" by people on the ship.  We cruised from Vancouver up the inside passage to Sitka, Ketchikan and back down to Seattle.  The best part of the trip-  and there were many best parts - was the glacier!  What a sight.  I wished I had been on a land excursion to stand on it-enjoying the hugeness and age of it.  Our gang will be forever joined as a result of this journey.

In September, the dear husband and I took a beautiful trip up the Danube on a River Cruise.  It was another dream come true.  I do have to say that the water levels were so low, that we had to switch ships half - way through.  It was a bummer but the scenes in Salzburg and Vienna made it all worthwhile.  We made an optional excursion to Nuremburgh and the place where Hitler held his Nazi rallies.  That was quite a scene.  To think that all these people were so brainwashed into killing millions of their country-people, including babies.  It hurt my heart.  The last part of the trip included the courtroom where they were tried and punished for "crimes against humanity."  It still was tragic and quite an end to a beautiful trip through Germany, Austria and Hungary.

The summer is over.  It was quick!  We packed in a lot, including three weeks at Oak Beach.  The old lady still stands and had lots of company this summer, especially when my sister came out with her six grand babies!

Off to do more editing.  Thank God I have some help with my pictures.  Can't wait to see the finished project!!!

Sunshine and Skin

This winter of 2018 has been a new one for the books.  I have found myself living with a retiree, my dear husband, Bruce.  We have decided to become Florida residents and I'm now in the middle of a cliche!

The idea came to him when he realized that we could avoid paying New York State income tax.  The hitch is that we spend 6 months plus one day in Florida.  Now, this was never on my bucket list.  I love the winters down here but I think myself much too young to be down in the land of old folks.

I may be in denial of my age as I am having a big birthday in 3 short months.  The denial is genetic.  My mom, Margo, never wanted to grow old and ended up dying at a relatively young age to avoid that.  However, she loved the sun, cigarettes and her wine.  All have a detrimental effect on both the body and the skin around it.  She Nivea-ed and oiled and took vitamins that advertised a "youthful complexion" but, alas, nature had its way with her.

A week after coming down to Florida, I found a dermatologist.  There were some bumps and lumps that weren't there before.  Of course, the doctor gave me the line "I see you got a lot of sun as a kid"; one that I've heard often.  She scared me to the point that the sun is no longer my friend.  I cover up with lotion and make sure my face is pasty white with some zinc concoction when I open the door in the morning.

This doesn't seem like a great way to spend 4-5 months in this tropical climate.  I am a golfer and love to walk in the fresh air.  There has to be a happy medium so I don't end up with a face that looks like an alligators grandmother.

I can still enjoy my sports and swim in the Gulf but the sunblock must be reapplied several times a day, not just in the morning.  This is a small price to pay to save my life from skin cancer.  I got plenty of sun as a kid, anyway.  Baby oil and iodine all over my lily white, sensitive Irish skin, making it sizzle like bacon.  Ouch!  Although I can't rewind the clock, I can prevent one or two wrinkles.  You've done enough damage, Mr. Sun!

BROKEN HEART

My father, George F. Sheehan, Sr., passed from this life on September 17, 2017.  He gently slipped away in his sleep, alone.  I don't really know about the "gently" or "alone" parts because I wasn't there.  He was in his little room at the Assisted Living place he's been in since April.  His aide, Val, had heard him talking in his sleep, as she did often.  When she went in to check on him, he was gone.

I had been working on a reunion for my Seminary, One Spirit, for the last year.  It came the same weekend in upstate New York.   I was woken up early that morning with a sweet voice that told me "Your Dad passed".  It was Val.  She later told me she sat with him for about two hours until my brother came to see Dad.  Then Doug stayed with him for another two hours until the doctor pronounced him.

It was surreal to me.  I prayed for his easy death; we all did. I saw how he suffered daily over the last five months. he made it to 95 plus 38 days!  It's been a tough month since and he is sorely missed by me and so many family and friends.

So, what now?  I think of him when I go to the grocery and see some tea or cookies he might like.  I smell his coats which will be donated to help the homeless this winter.  Each thank you note I write makes me grateful about all the people who showed up and still show up for us. But my heart is broken.  I feel like a huge part of it has been lopped off.  My father is no longer here to talk to about the World Series, about current events, about family drama, golf and friends.  I miss him when I think of old stories and want someone to affirm them.  I guess I'm the keeper of the stories now, along with my siblings.

I've been writing a monthly column for a local magazine for the last 14 years.  It's focus is on my reflections about growing up along the South Shore of Long island and the happenings of the past and present.  I would always write about my father--so many columns are written about him and focused on his influence in my life.  He would always say "Don't write about me until after I'm dead, Bob."  I'd laugh and keep writing about my favorite subject. I know the words will keep him alive in my heart and will let others know what kind of a guy he was.  So, Dad, now that I have your permission, there are so many more stories to come.  Life is Eternal and Love never dies.

Father's Day 2017

Long time, no blog.  Been working on a book, a new website, journaling and trying to keep up with the weddings, funerals and blessings I've been asked to do.

This new year has been one of change.  An aging Father who is entering his last months of life.  His heart is like an old car engine.  It isn't performing as well as the chassis looks from the outside. If you see him, he's frail, smaller and can hardly hear a word.  But his beautiful bright blue eyes can flash with love at me and my heart melts. He's with a bunch of oldies in an assisted living place that is like the Taj Mahal!  It was the only place we could have him live comfortably. He has good, old friends who live there and tries to socialize as best he could.   I know he's waiting for August 3, 2017 when he'll turn 95.  He's told me that he can die on August 4th!

It's tough to say that this may be his last year.  I've known him for a long time!  We've gone through our ups and downs.  The last 23 years since Mom died, we have become closer and he depends on me more and more.  It doesn't matter what time of day or night, I can get his call and I'm there!  It's what I owe him.  He did a wonderful job giving me the guidelines for a full, fruitful, courageous life.  He taught me well how to give to others, how to extend yourself even though you don't always want to.  He was the leader of our gang and we did follow where he led, even though we didn't know it at the time. 

When Dad goes, I'll be sad.  I'll cry as I am doing now.  But I know--I KNOW--he doesn't want to be here in this physical body that is crumbling minute by minute.  He said to me recently:  "You live too long".  When that day comes, I won't agree with him.  I'll want to see those blue eyes flashing at me one more time, hear his voice say to me "Love you, baby". Love you, Dad.  Happy Father's Day!

Losses and beginnings

I just heard today that a beautiful friend of mine has passed.  She suffered from a brain tumor and survived 35 months!  Patti was a holistic follower long before it became fashionable. She taught yoga and helped others get healthy through her work as a graduate of the IIN  (Institute of Integral Nutrition).
Those that knew her are sad at the loss of such a brave, loving woman.  But her pain was unbearable. She wasn't the vital, tall stunning blond, strutting down the fairway anymore.  She was sick. 
I can say all kinds of beautiful and spiritual platitudes about how she is at peace and out of her pain.  Maybe she is.  Maybe she has transcended this earth.  Maybe she is at one with the Divine, who knew her struggles.  Maybe she can watch her husband, children and granddaughter go on without her and shower them with her grace.  Maybe.
We all grieve differently.  I grieve like this--expressing my love for her on paper.  I know--for certain--that she is out of her human pain.  We all may have to go through this at one time or another.  I know she can love us from where she is now.  Her Spirit is much too strong to go this early.  I tell families that at wakes and gravesites.  I ask them to watch for their loved ones, listen for their whispers or their nudges.  I am certain that my beautiful friend will be watching over her family and her friends for the next few days.  I see her gorgeous smile and laughing eyes, her resounding voice that tells us she is all right and we will be all right, too. Bon Voyage, Patti.