Jesus is here to take me home - Is it OK Mommy?

On December 14, 2012 a horrific school shooting took place in the sleepy little town of Newtown, Conn.  20 precious little children lost their lives.  Many on Facebook found various ways to express their thoughts, their anger, and their condolences.

My youngest daughter, Sandi, found her way with the following.... written not only for those families, "but for all the children in the world that parents don't have this Christmas".

 May these words bring peace ....


My voice has always been little
So small.
But on that day I was screaming so .. yelling but no one could hear me.
"Mom I am right here"
"Mom its OK don't cry"
"Mom there is this man with me"
"Mom he is a big man he has a long beard but is not fat like Santa I know it not Christmas yet still 11 more days on my calendar"
"Mom he says his name is Jesus and he has came to take me home but I have never seen him before and he said I am on his list to check me out, mom tell me its OK"
"My child I love you go stay with Jesus and Its OK"
" thanks Mom I will see you soon"
" I love you my child - can't wait to hold you again ... Jesus I know it isn't my time  - so take care of her till I get there"
"I love you Mommy."

The Meaning of Christmas in a Jar of Pickles

I have two daughters - both now grown with families of their own.  Raising them was tough, I was not always able to get them everything they wanted or even needed.  For a good part of their lives, we were on food stamps, so simple things like pickles were a treat.  So much of a treat, they actually got them as 'gifts' one year in their Christmas Stockings.  As things got better, the Tradition grew - from small jars in the stocking - to the big jar of the whole dill jumbos wrapped and placed under the tree.  This is continued today - each family gets a jar and they are the one gift the Grandchildren look for under the tree at our house.

Both of my girls know what it is like to struggle raising a family.  They also know the power of simple gestures that can brighten someones life. And they are firm believers in  "Pay It Forward" , which both have done more times than anyone knows.

Today, the youngest one - Sandi - posted the following on Facebook.  Now she could have just walked away, for she truly does not have the resources to offer help.  But her heart would not allow that.

Today has already been a busy day got up went and took movies back took Libby to the school to go to atlanta. Paid the water bill swoo. But the most important thing was this lady was parked beside me and she was asking if we had to b back up at the school to pick them up and we was talking she told me she had no money for her little girl to eat on today no gas to get her this afternoon wasn't going to have Christmas for her kids I was sadden by this so I took a 10 and 5  ones I had and as soon as I turned to Libby and said here Libby said u want me to take this to her don't u mom I said yes please she went over and gave it to that lady. The woman started crying and said no I can't take this I said please take it she said thank u turned and looked at her little girl and said baby now u have money to eat on today as I was leaving the lady thanked me again I said y'all have a merry Christmas. I paid it forward for all the times I had been helped out. Not just cuz it Christmas or the time of year it is if u know me I would do this any day of the week or year thanks for reading my story. I hope it touch ur heart like it did mine and always remember there is someone out there worse off then u r and if u r meant to help them god will put them in ur path to help them.

The one thing I can say I am proud of - is somehow I have taught my girls the true meaning of Christmas - that sometimes it is the little things that matter - helping - sharing - giving.  It does not need to be anything big -sometimes a simple a jar of pickles can be the most important gift under the tree.

Our Family Traditions are set in stone

Two Generations - Mazzola's

Brothers are special.  If you have one, you know what I mean.  If you don't then you miss out on the joy of hearing the famous words of "Because, he is the boy".  I only have one.  A precious little brother named Andrew, aka AJ.  AJ came along finally after our parents tried for 21 years to have a son, after two girls, they finally had the crowned prince - five years after my sister and 10 years and two months to the day after me.  Being spaced out five years apart was not planned, but it did raise some eyebrows, like they only had sex every five years or so.
Somehow, being a boy and the only son grants them special treatment.  "Why doesn't AJ have to do dishes?"  Because he's the boy.  How come AJ gets to drive the riding mower? Because he's the boy. How come AJ gets to stay out later than I did at his age? Because he's the boy.  How come AJ gets the family business?  Because he's the boy.

Am I envious?  Hell yeah,  I have always loved the business and hoped to be one of the few women in the profession.  But am I proud of little brother? Very much so.  He stepped into some pretty big shoes when he stepped into the Business started by our Grandfather, then passed onto our Dad.  It is a hard job, one that requires 'bull work', artistic ability, and strong people skills.  It take dedication to maintaining the standard of excellence two generations before us set. And it takes a sense of pride in Family Traditional values to keep at it and strive to take something so good and make it better.

Can he do it? Hell yeah.... after all .. he is the boy.

Congratulations  little brother - keep up the good work, Big sister is proud of you.

Norwood Monumental Works Inc.: Third generation continues monumental feats

Family Business - Norwood Monumental Works

 

NORWOOD —

It’s a Thursday afternoon and A.J. Mazzola is on a mission to pick up something precious - a granite stone. This also happens to be the foundation of his family business.
Stone selection is just one of the many tasks that Mazzola, who runs Norwood Monumental Works Inc., performs. It is also the first step in getting the final product: headstone or grave marker. Each finished grave marker is roughly 24 inches by 12 inches and lays flat in the ground. Every precut stone goes through a four-step process before it is finished. The entire process is all done right at the Washington Street shop.
And it all started with his grandfather.

Read more:  ( full article)

 And Visit : www.norwoodmonumental.com

It is not a Christmas Tree ... It is a Tree Of Memories

Christmas has always been my favorite Holiday. But not because of the getting of presents, but the giving of gifts, the sounds, the smells, the sights of the season. This year has been a tough one on us, as it has been on many, but somehow Christmas magic still comes in, on a tree full of memories of Christmas past.

 
My tree is not just a tree with lights and bulbs, but a tree of memories. The hanging of each ornament comes with a story of how that trinket gained a spot on the tree. The decorations are simple, many of them made by my girls years ago. The rest have been made for me or given as gifts, or carry some special meaning to the tree of memories.

Some are simple store bought ones, the girls or the grand-kids painted or made over the years.
We also have a few fishing bobbers left from the time we did the whole tree with them. We had silver and red and white bobbers all over the tree, which proved to be quite nice, especially living on the lake. But being the avid fishers we were, most got used afterward.
                                                                                                                                                                 We have Harley ornaments that we received from people, and bells for the movie It's a Wonderful Life.

Theres the picture Santa my oldest, Stephanie, got while in High School, and the okra Santa the youngest, Sandi, did in High School. Each having their own special spot every year.






But the one that is always asked about by anyone seeing this Hodgepodge of a tree is the simple little piece of tinfoil, all tied up with purple string. Sandi was about five years old, and times were really tough that year. She came up with that special present, her own design of a Christmas present ornament and asked if it could go on the tree.

That IS what Christmas is all about. Not how big the tree is, not how many gifts under it, not how fancy the display is. It is about the love and memories tucked among the branches of the simple little tree.

Part two - The newest addition:

This year has been a roller coaster year for me.  But it has been one filled with special friendships.  And the most important one has been the wonderful experience of working with Damien Cripps.  We have had a tough year together, especially when the hopes of our meeting had been postponed till next year due to visa issues.

Today a special package arrived.  I must say it was something I will treasure forever for not only for what it is, and what it symbolizes, but for the fact one very special friend understands the meaning of my "Memory Tree".  This now has a special place of honor on the tree and always will.

Thank you Nicole - You have been a great friend, and you will never know how much this gift means to me. It not only symbolizes the up and down year of 2010 and  my friendship with Damien ...
....but the special one I have with you as well.

And the Story Continues ...

Now the tree has a new lighthouse ... I love lighthouses, although have never seen one 'live'.  There is something about them that I find comforting.
This little lighthouse has an angel and the words 'guiding light'.  Given to me by (once again) my dear friend Nicole.
 Nicole - you are such angel... and have been a guiding light within my life - often letting me know that I am too close to crashing into rocks.  Shine on :)

Latest Addition............

A Few years ago ....after 20 years together we actually got Married! ... Yeah, have trouble getting my Better Half to remember the date ...so got this 

And the kids had the same idea ;) 

And MORE.........

Latest additions that brought a smile to my face as I was decorating the tree. Two precious ornaments from our sweet Grandson AJ..... one he made and one he picked out and bought at the school Christmas Shop last year in Kindergarten ... forever will be cherished

It's a Sign I tell ya! Memory Walk for Alzheimers

In every family there is a blend of personalities.  Sometimes it makes an eloquent cocktail other times it is a fruit smoothie.  Yeah, my family is the latter, and the exotic ingredient that gives this fruit smoothie its kick is my sister.

Karen is the one with the thick mane of hair, dazzling smile and bubbling personality.  She is also about the size of a Tic Tac. Flamboyant, she makes a statement simply by walking into a room.

She is the one who can't change the bag in a vacuum cleaner, totally ( and I mean totally) freaks out at the sight of a spider ( with the exception of the one on the back steps that she named Harry or something ... ), thinks the new stove is great, but fails to realize it can do more than cook Frozen pizza.  She is one of those gals that is rarely seen without her 'face on' , even asked me when I was in premature labor if she had time to put on some makeup before taking me to hospital. ( She does admit quickly that was a dumb question). She was also the one who backed the car up on top of a fence the first time she drove to school.("who put that fence there?" )

Think the TV show "The Nanny" and you got my sister.  Karen's catch phrase is " Have You Met Me?"

Karen is also the one who shoulders the most in the family.  She is now living with Dad,  and was the one who was there with Mom through the Alzheimer's.  (Yes, so was my Brother, but men handle things different).  

Mom lost her battle to Alzheimer on Sept 24, 2005.  Karen was there with her, and for the past five years has been struggling to come to terms with the lost, with the disease, and with the fear of one day one of us may develop it.  She is not alone.

Karen called me the other day, all excited.  She was looking for a way to commemorate the Anniversary of Moms passing, but really was at a lost for something unique.  Then she was asked about walking in a walkathon by her co-workers at the assisted living center where she works.

" they asked if I would be interested in a walkathon , I said sure... when?  They said Sept 25.  I asked what for? and they said it was the ALZHEIMER'S MEMORY WALK!!!  The day after the anniversary of Moms death!  It is a sign I tell ya!!" ( that the Irish Mom coming out ... everything is a sign)

But truly this IS a sign.  To be able to walk and raise money and awareness for the very disease that claimed our Mother the day after the 5 year anniversary of her death IS a sign.

To help raise money for this, now til September 15th I will set aside $1 or 10% which ever is higher from EVERY sale at Renagade's for this Memory Walk.

Won't you stop by and check out the variety of items and help by buying one or two things?  This just maybe the thing to help not only my sister come to terms with the lost, but you can help find a cure.  Millions of children of Alzhiemers patients live in fear that one day, we shall develop this disease that robs the mind, leaving behind the shell of a person.  A fear of everytime you forget something you wonder, "is it starting?"  Trust me, even for those of us whom may never develop the disease, the fear of it is crippling.

I am proud of my Baby Sister, and wish I could walk with her.  But she knows I will be there in spirit, as will our Mom.

We miss you Mom .... 111

www.bonanzle.com/renagade 




More on my raising and losing mom : http://renagadelife.blogspot.com/2010/02/half-irish-half-italian-all-love.html

Lessons my Irish Mother taught me.

In my house we over-the-top celebrated some of the holidays, namely, Easter, Christmas, Memorial Day, April Fools Day, and St Patrick’s Day. St Patricks Day was the one day Mom dropped the 'wife to an Italian man' and fully embraced her Irish heratage.


Growing up with an Irish mother, you learn many things, most importantly you absolutely, positively, MUST wear Green on St Patrick’s Day. Even my Italian Dad wore an olive green work uniform that day to keep peace in the house…. And to keep the little Irish lass from finding some bright Kelly green shirt for him.

For some reason, Kelly green was the choice of shade on St Patty’s Day. For those not familiar with this, it is a bright true green…very bright. Going to school we strangely resembled a group of ’wee people’ all decked out in this screaming ‘I am Irish ’ Green.

Mom would get up early that day, like a kid at Christmas. Humming bars of “When Irish Eyes are smiling” and singing “Oh, Danny Boy, she would set out the box of Lucky Charms cereal, start the corned beef and cabbage, and make sure we all had on as much green as we could wear. And as we got older, she made sure we didn’t have on HER lucky shirt that she planned on wearing to bingo that night. ( That happened once …. My ears are still ringing from the blood curdling screech of “Blessed Mary Mother of God …Hell NO! … Not MY shirt!”)

If by chance you failed to remember what day it was, and didn’t have green on … you would get pinched. Literally. She would grab your arm and pinch the heck out of you.

The pinching is an American tradition, No one really knows how it got started, but like so many other traditions among the Irish, if you didn’t do it the world would end and seven years of bad luck would follow you till the end of days … or something like that.

Irish are very superstitious . Very, Very superstitious. Some may even call them a little paranoid. Some of the ones I have had installed into my psyche still cause my heart to race with fear of the doom that looms.

Sure, we all have heard that walking under a ladder, and breaking a mirror are sure fire ways to bring about 7 years of bad luck, but how about these?:

If you put on your clothes inside out, you must wear it like that.
(for those who remember when it was ‘cool’ to wear your sweatshirt inside out…now you know it must have been an Irishman that started that)

Itching palm means money is coming.
Itching or burning ear, someone is talking about you.
Itching nose, ‘have a fight or kiss a fool’
( Mom would piss us off by kissing one of us)

A bird flying into the house… a death in the family

Death and bad news always comes in threes
( It may take a while .. but there will be three)

Once you leave the house, it was bad luck to go back in before trip was done.
If you must, then you must sit down and take feet off the floor before leaving again.

A fork falls on the floor, company is coming. A knife falls, it will be a man, a spoon means a lady.
(Man is this one ever true!)

Never give an empty wallet or purse.

Fall on a grave, and you will be buried soon.

Brides are to wear: 'something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue and a silver sixpence in your shoe'.

you smell roses when none are around someone is going to die

If you spill salt, throw a pinch of the spilt salt over your shoulder
( go ahead .. try ignoring this and see what happens)

And never … EVER put shoes on the table.
( guarenteed the end of the world)

So in honor of my Mother, I shall do the ‘Wearing of the green” ,have corned beef and cabbage, sing a few lines of Danny Boy … and absolutely make sure no shoes are on any table. And with a little luck, maybe my palm will itch.

To all, I wish you a Blessed St Patty’s Day, and Erin Go Braugh.

Irish Blessing
May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.
 
Till we meet again Mom..... 111

Half Irish - Half Italian - All love

 I grew up in a mixed household. Yes, I am a half breed. Half Irish - half Italian. Proud to say second generation in this country.

But back when my parents got married, crossing the nationality lines was one of the things you where not suppose to do. And in the Boston area, mixing Irish into Italian bloodlines was…. Well…. a mortal sin that could cause the sky to fall and set off the apocalypse. But Dad was a bit of a hoodlum and fell for an Irish Miss from the ’wrong side of town’.

Now, normally that back then could set off an ex-communication from the family. But if they did that, they would have had to cut off some of his nine sisters as well. They looked at my Mom and figured they would grant permission because:

1. at least she talked ‘normal’, not like the guy my Aunt married. ( damn Irish Brogue !)
2. She wasn’t … (gasp!)… POLISH like that big eared guy one of the other sisters married.
3. She wasn’t already related . ( yes one married a cousin….had to get permission from the Pope for that one - BUT he WAS Italian so… hey)
4. She WAS Catholic. That is a plus!
5. Everyone knew their youngest son was bullheaded, stubborn, and a “hoodlum” anyway.
6.  She was what is called ‘Black Irish’ Dark hair, dark eyes, and could pass off as Italian. Heck, she looked more Italian than their green eyed son.
7. Most Important....Irish are known breeders. OK, the bloodline may be ‘tainted’ but out of 11 kids my grandparents only had 2 sons, the oldest son was not breeding many, so we got to keep the name going somehow.

Now if they can just get her to stay quiet about the Irish part, things would be good.

Well Mom did good on never speaking with a brogue, went to church, even dyed her hair darker to increase the appearance of looking Italian. And she cooked spaghetti once a week and could make the meanest antipasto around. But when it came to the breeding end….. Well she told us kids that never happened.

They had three children … myself the oldest, then five years later my sister, then five years after that my brother. Two girls and a boy and it ’only’ took them 11 years to have the first one and 21years to complete the litter. We were all ‘gifts from God’ , not sex, immaculate conception was the way we came to be, just ask her and she would tell you so. Wish she did…. Often…once we reached the teen years. That was her infamous ‘Birds and the Bees’ talk. “If God wants you to have kids, he will give you kids, and you don’t have to have sex….we didn’t”

Now if she told us that a young kids, we may have bought it. But as teens the theory just didn’t wash. As she came to realize we have figured out what actually ‘caused’ kids, the story shifted to “ We only had sex three times, hence the three of you.”

Now considering Mom was 31 when she had me and 41 when she finally produced the “prince” son, that put her pushing 50 when the ‘birds and the bees’ talks started. And it also meant at my age she had a 10 year old to deal with.

I look back now, and think no wonder when she started forgetting things, acting a little odd we didn’t catch it. Having to deal with three kids, the pressure to produce the crowned prince to carry on the family name, and having us all so late in life would cause any woman who wanted to have kids early a little nutty. And no, the three of us where not angels by any means. But what we missed was the onset of Alzheimer’s.

I was finally told about the confirmation of the disease , for some reason, the rest of the family didn’t want to ‘worry’ me, and living so far away, they could hide it for a while.

I was able to visit and say my ‘Goodbyes’ before she totally forgot me. Well she knew me, was just a little shocked to see me around again.

The good thing is she never lost her memory of my Dad, and loved having him beside her. They shared a special kind of love that knew no boundaries. Certainly not one of nationalities. And my grandparents saw it.

My mother passed away in 2005 a few days after their 57th Anniversary. She is thought of daily, missed always, but she is still with us. All of us have had strange things happen that we swear is “Mom” …Heck, she said she would haunt us and we believe her … why wouldn't we? We are immaculate conception children.

I miss you Mom…. 111