The girls and I visit the states, 1980

Lee had extended his tour of duty in Europe by 6 months. We would have had to uproot the girls from school in mid year as we should have returned to the states Dec. 1980. I had promised the girls that if their dad extended, We would go back to the states for a visit in the summer

LOSING A FRIEND

Losing a friend does not get any easier as one ages. In reality, I think it gets more difficult to relinquish these treasured individuals whom we have allowed into our lives, and moreover, they have reciprocated in kind by accepting us, and loving us with all our imperfections. One definition of friend is a close acquaintance, someone whom we become fond of and share our inner most thoughts with. We may know a lot of people, but most of us have precious few "real" friends. I feel privileged to have made some wonderful friends over my lifetime, friends who have been there for me in good times, and friends who have been with me during some of the darkest hours of my life. My eyes well up with tears as I recall the numerous times I have felt the unconditional love and support of close friends when I desperately needed it.

I met Sister Consuela in 1987. She was a diminutive "old school" Sister of Mercy who chose to wear the modern version of the habit and wimple, black in winter, and white in summer. She had beautiful blue eyes which twinkled with her knowing smile. Her grace and silent presence commanded respect to all those who knew her. I knew the first time that I met Sister that I would grow to love her.


In 1987 my husband Lee had recently retired from the U.S. Army after 23 years and accepted the position of Director of the Anesthesia School at Mercy Hospital in Portland, Maine. Sister Consuela was his supervisor, he thought the world of her, and respected her opinion. He was always impressed by her involvement in so many different projects. She was extremely knowledgeable and highly respected by all that she touched over the many years. Her high standards are reflected in the hundreds of nurses who received their training under her tutelage.


Lee and I had planned a trip to Ireland in 1989. Sister Conseula asked if we planned on going to Dublin, she then gave us a little history lesson about Catherine Mc Cauley (the woman who founded The Sister's of Mercy) who was born near Dublin in 1778. Sister asked if would we visit the small museum in honor of Catherine Mc Cauley. I surmised from her enthusiasm that it would mean a great deal to her. I promptly told her that we would be happy to do that for her. As we walked away Lee refreshed my memory that our itinerary did not include Dublin! WELL, of course we went to Dublin! It was a cold rainy, dreary day, really not conducive to finding a tiny shrine to Catherine Mc Cauley half way round the world in Dublin, Ireland. Remember that you drive on the opposite side of the street in The U.K. and now it is literally pouring rain. Thank God that Lee has the patience of Job. He also knows that I am like "a dog with a bone" when I am looking for something. I had him making u-turns after which he would forget and get on the wrong side of the street. It was not pretty, there was not a lot of conversation, BUT we found it! It was a tiny chapel,there was no one in attendance. The only prove that we had been there was a pamphlet with Catherine Mc Cauley's picture, and information about her life, and Lee took a couple photographs. We also purchased some linen handkerchiefs for Sister which we gave her along with the pamphlet. She was absolutely "tinkled pink" and so grateful that we had done this for her. Her eyes were brimming with tears of gratitude as she hugged us. A small gesture which meant so much to her and reminded us once again, that sometimes it doesn't take much to make someone happy.

In 1991 I was contemplating graduate school, however, I was not confident that I could achieve my goals. As Lee said, I kept throwing up "road blocks" for myself which prevented me from applying to Boston College. One day at work he mentioned my dilemma to Sister Consuela. She said "tell Carol to be in my office at 0900 tomorrow morning. Lee said, "it wasn't really a request, it was more like an edict!"
So I was in her office at 0900 sharp the following morning. We talked for 2 hrs, and we talked about everything under the sun. When I left her office that morning I was so "psyched," I felt like I could achieve anything. I did matriculate at Boston College and earned my MSN in Psych/Mental Health, and I shall always be grateful for her encouragement, and support. Actually, I felt that she was my guardian angel and it gave me the strength and determination to stay the course. Sister had a very persuasive way about her, and she also had a wonderful way to convey her caring and love as well, she and I hit it off immediately. Periodically, I would call and ask Sister Consuela if she would care to go out to lunch, she never refused. I always took her to a restaurant along the water which we both thoroughly enjoyed. She always ordered Salmon which she loved, and her dessert consisted of one scoop of vanilla ice cream. When I asked here if she would like dessert, she would always get this little mischievous look in her eyes and smile.
One year, the week before Thanksgiving I asked Lee to invite Sister for dinner, I prefaced my request with "I'm sure at this late date she will already have plans." As luck would have it, she did not have plans and she was ecstatic that she was coming to our home for Thanksgiving dinner. Lee said she announced to everyone she encountered that she was having Thanksgiving dinner at Lee's house. I was honored that she accepted our invitation, and it appears that she was honored to be invited.
When Sister Consuela retired from her position at Mercy Hospital we went to her party. The huge room was packed with people from Sister's past, they all had a story to tell, be it when they were a Nursing student or later when they were employed at Mercy Hospital. She was loved by all whose lives she touched. She was incredulous that so many, many people had come to honor her, and she genuinely did not "get it!" She was just doing her job in the best way she knew how, and did not see what all the fuss was about.
Sister appeared in the halls of Mercy Hospital for several years after her retirement, visiting, encouraging, and praying with patients. She loved seeing old friends and co-workers, some seeking her advice, which was free, but only if it was solicited. Personally, I think she is still roaming those hallowed halls at Mercy Hospital, the place she loved so much, and I think she always will.
Two years ago in July 2009 Lee and I were in Maine on vacation and decided to try and find Sister Conseula. I had written a few notes to her, but for whatever reason, did not hear back from her. It took a couple phone calls and we found her at The Frances Warde Convent on Stevens Ave. She was frail, but bright and alert, and happy to see us. Those beautiful blue eyes still radiant and shining, full of love. We visited for about an hour, she hugged and kissed us both and we said "goodbye. " We all had tears in our eyes silently knowing that this would be our final farewell to Sister Conseula. She walked us to the door and waved to us as we drove away. I can still see her there in my mind's eye.

Sister Conseula passed away last week. I was devastated upon hearing the news, and felt such a loss, however on reflection I was being selfish. This wonderful "saintly" woman has influenced and enriched my life beyond belief, and she has inspired me to be a better person, and a better Christian. I am blessed and priveleged to have known such a woman and to call her my friend.
I'll bet St. Peter wisked her through the heavenly gates so fast when she flashed that ever present twinkle in her eyes. At long last Sister will have the rest with our Heavenly Father which she so richly deserves.

Our day of awe in Rome as John Paul ll takes our hands in His

In the fall of 1980 Lee and I decided to take a trip to Rome, Italy. We had visited Venice in 1979, and it is beautiful. The boat ride to Venice was a little hairy because even though the boat has a plaque that states the maximum number of passengers, they just keep piling more and more people in the boat. Pretty soon there was only a couple inches of boat visible. Thankfully, it was only a short ride, and we all survived. We walked all around Venice with its narrow passageways and magnificent architecture. Saint Mark's Square which is the undisputed symbol of Venice, and of course Doge's Palace and the Bridge of Sighs. The Bridge of Sighs that houses two overlapping corridors was built at the beginning of the 17th century and used to serve as a link between the Old Prison, in the Doge's Palace, and the New Prison's situated beyond the Palazzo River. Legend has it that one could hear the sighs of the condemned as they were being lead to prison.
When we had decided to go to Rome, I had casually mentioned our plans in a letter to a close friend of ours who lives in New York. Florence wrote back and informed me that she has relatives still living in Rome. Fortuitously, for our family, one of her cousins was Pope John Paul ll personal secretary . Florence proceeded to write a letter for us which enabled us entrance into the Vatican. As you might imagine the instructions were very specific. There is a cadre of Swiss Guards in front of the Vatican who guard the entrance, they are the guards who wear the "Pie man Hats" which are purple and gold colored. I approached the guards and showed them the letter which Florence had sent us. It was incredible, within seconds we were escorted into the halls of the Vatican, and within a few moments a diminutive elderly Monseigneur appeared and greeted us.....in Italian! For an instant I was disappointed that we may not gain entrance into the Vatican. However, there was no need to worry because the situation was quickly rectified, a middle age Irish priest was summoned to give us a tour of the Vatican. He took us through the archives which are located in the recesses of the basement of the Vatican. There were several scholarly looking young men scattered around the Archives engrossed in research. Then Father Flanigan took us to some rarely used, sort of "secret or concealed" stairways up to the top floor of the Papal Residence. There was a window at the top of the stairs which when opened revealed a breathtaking view of the private, beautiful, and serene Vatican Gardens. The gardens are lovely and completely devoid of any electrical wires or other encumbrances. Father Flanigan invited us to take as many photos as we wished. Ironically, the best picture I have retained all of these years is the imprint on my brain of these lovely private gardens. (I will explain after I discuss the absolutely wonderful experience of being touched by Pope John Paul ll)
Our tour of the Vatican culminated with a blessing from Father Flanigan with all of us joining hands. His final word to us was "take care of each other and love one another." It was a special moment, I shall never forget. We exited the Vatican with our feet not quite touching the ground, with the knowledge that we had experienced and witnessed something special, and unique, something that few people get the opportunity to experience
Next on the agenda was the Papal appearance in St. Peter's Square at 1300 that same afternoon. Another friend of ours had suggested that we visit the USO which was not far from The Square. The USO was originally a place for the American soldiers to go to on their time off. Sometimes there would be some sort of entertainment there, cigarettes, stationery, and conversation were available as well as the camaraderie of other young men who were also displaced from their families and their country. The lady who ran the USO was an elderly woman who had a tale to tell, she was actually in her mid 80's. She really seemed to enjoy our daughters, who at the time, were ages 11 & 13 yr. old. She proceeded to tell us that she had lived in Italy during the fascist dictatorship of Mussolini. The woman explained how she and her family had escaped from Italy and the brutality of Mussolini to Switzerland, unfortunately not before they witnessed many atrocities, and acts of cruelty to their fellow countrymen.
The woman asked us if we were going to St. Peter's square to see the pope, and we of course answered in the affirmative. She said "I will tell you exactly where to stand, and you can pretty much be assured to see Him up close." We got there early and stood precisely where she suggested. There were very few people in St. Peter's Square at the time. As the time for the Pope's appearance grew closer, the people appeared in throngs and the Square filled up to the point that I became anxious, and somewhat fearful. Lee and I and the girls were in the front row and the crowds behind us started to press against us. This indeed was scary. Just about the time when I felt like I was going to be pushed to the ground the Vatican police commenced to using their "Billie clubs" on the people who were shoving from behind us. These police were forceful and hit hard, they meant business, there was no doubt about it. Therefore, it did not take much time at all for the crowds to be under control. I for one was very grateful. It was not long afterwards and the Pope appeared in his Pope mobile, they drove slowly up and down between the various rows of the people. Lee and I were taking pictures like professional shutter bugs. I took 2 rolls of the Pope myself. My hands were trembling in anticipation of seeing the Pope, especially so physically close, it was an exciting, wonderful experience in my life. As the Pope mobile approached us, for some reason they decided to stop directly in front of us. The Pope asked us where we were from, and of course we stated we were Americans. He took our hands in His and cupped our hands together, and blessed us before He continued on through St. Peter's Square. My eyes filled with tears, to have been touched by the Holy Father, this "little ole Catholic girl" felt truly blessed. The lady in the USO was spot on with her directions and I will be forever grateful. For me it was the thrill of a lifetime, one I shall always savor. After we returned to Heidelberg, we packed up all of our film in a large envelope and sent it to the processing company which we had used for the entire 2 years we had been in Germany. About 10 days later we received a letter from the photo processing company stating that our film never arrived there. According to the company they only received a torn envelope and the check which we had enclosed intact inside the envelope. You can draw your own conclusions of what you think happened. Every time afterwards when I saw a closeup picture of the Pope, I'd say to Lee "There is one of our photos." I will always believe that someone saw an opportunity and took advantage of it.
Luckily, I do have a few pictures of Pope John Paul ll which were on the end of another roll which I did not send in for developing. The beautiful Vatican Gardens are but a memory though since those pictures were among the ones which were sent in the mail. I will always have the vivid memories of that beautiful blessed day, they belong to me alone.
While in the Rome area we decided to take a bus tour of Sorrento, Pompeii and Naples. Sorrento is beautiful with its lovely houses built into the cliffs along the Mediterrean. It seems that no matter where we traveled in Europe we were always surprised and charmed at the beauty and quaintness we found.
We continued along on our bus tour ate a delicious lunch of fried calamari and salad, and of course Lee and I enjoyed a lovely glass of Italian wine.
As an aside, the people of Italy, especially the male gender, were very fascinated by our two daughters, both who are very fair skinned, one with very blonde hair, the other a strawberry blonde. A man sat next to our almost 14 yr old daughter on the subway, he proceeded to tell her several times, how beautiful she was, etc. Unbeknownst to him, Lee and I were sitting directly across from him. When the subway stopped at the next station, Lee and I stood up, and our daughter took a hold of her dad's hand as we disembarked.
Ciao,
Carol

"Volksmarching" our way through Germany

One of the most popular pastimes for families on the weekends was to go on a "Volksmarch." It actually translates into "people walk," and is not only a wonderful opportunity for families to spend time together, but also a great way to stay physically fit. I am not sure how many of these walks our family participated in, but sufficed to say at least 50. There were 2 choices for the distance which we could traverse. One choice was 10 kilometers (6 mi.) or 20 kilometers (12 mi.) Wherever the march was laid out, it was always breathtakingly beautiful. It could be serene farm land with grazing contented cows and babbling brooks, or lush green forests with the melodious songs of the indigenous birds of that area serenading us in the background. The reward for completing the walk was a medallion which were made of bronze, silver, or gold. The one we received depended on whatever we registered and paid for. There was a fee to participate in these walks, it was a method of raising monies for the individual clubs. The Americans had a club as did the Canadians, etc. and the fees were used to purchase medals for future walks, and various other expenses. Usually, we participated as a family, but once in a while if I really liked the medal which was given at the finish, I would go alone. One Saturday in particular Lee was on call and I decided to do just that. It was a 20 kilometer or 12 mile walk, or in my case, run. I initially started walking, but found it rather boring so decided to run through. If my memory serves me correctly it took me 2 hrs to do it.
Another weekend when Lee was on call the girls and I went on a walk with a friend. Actually, she was also a CRNA and Lee's supervisor. She had no family to accompany her on her assignment to Germany therefore we included her in many of our family activities. On this particular Saturday, she drove. After the walk and refreshments we were ready to start for home. My friend could not find her car keys, we looked high and low with no luck. There were lots of people of various nationalities milling around, I decided to try and converse with someone to see if they had found a set of car keys. The German word for key is "schlussel," so I started asking people in German if they had seen the keys. One man acted like he had found the keys, "Die Schussel, die schussel" he shouted. I said "yes, yes!! He said "Nein", so after a few minutes it was clear that he had not found the keys. However, this middle age German man whom I did not know, and had never seen before, handed me his car keys to a brand new 5 speed Ford Fiesta. He even showed me where the registration was located. We were incredulous! I mean how many times does someone offer their car keys to a total stranger, from another country?? I explained to him that I lived in Heidelberg and it would take me over 1 hour to get there and then of course the same to return. It was fine with him he said, so I drove to Heidelberg and back with the keys for my friend's car. By the time we returned with his car, he had raised the stein more than a few times, and was in a very jovial mood. We were truly grateful for his generosity and we went on our merry way back home. I really don't know what we would have done with out his generosity. He told me his name was "Johnnie," I saw him many, many times after that at the "Volksmarches. "The first time I saw him again after I had used his car, he told me, "My wife, she was so-o angry that I gave my new car to an American woman." He laughed and laughed when he said it"and I knew he would do it again if the occasion arose. There were other instances where Lee and I were the recipients of German hospitality, simply because the individual told us that "they liked Americans."
Another instance of German hospitality occured when Lee and I attended the famous celebration of the "Ocktoberfest" in 1979, but that is another episode.
Auf Wiedersehen,
Carol

Life in Germany, and Europe

Our life in Germany was rather magical, for me, anyway. Maybe that is because I was just a farm girl at heart. Actually, the American compound where we lived was just about five miles from the commissary and Military Post Exchange. So we were out in the country with lots of farms all around us. Some people chose to stay on the compound exclusively. It really had everything a person could want. There was the 130th Station Hospital which was a 100 bed hospital. This is where Lee worked, and it also has some history there, it is the place where Gen. George Patton passed away. It was also where I ultimately found gainful employment. If military personnel or their dependents needed a specialist we referred them to Landstuhl Air Force Base. The military compound had churches, youth centers, movie theaters, snack Bars, Bowling alleys, the Enlisted Clubs, the Officer's Club.
There were several stores or kiosks which specialized in German products as well as products from several other countries which could be purchased at a less expensive rate than outside stores. They had a separate store where beer, wine, liquor, and soft drinks could be purchased, also at a reduced cost, and of course no tax. By this time we had established a good relationship with Herr Hartman and purchased most of our wines from him. Lee and I certainly did use the facilities for grocery shopping etc. however outside of the boundaries of the military posts was a whole other world which beckoned to us. Besides having privileges to the American facilities, we also had the availability of the French commissary, and the Canadian facilities as well. So you can understand how easy it was for us to develop our palates to include some of the delicious breads, cheeses, wines and other delicacies such as foie gras which were prepared daily and available to us. Besides all of these military facilities, of course we had the countries themselves to explore, savor and enjoy. As I stated earlier the American dollar was not strong during the 3 1/2 years that we were assigned in Europe, consequently we tried to stretch our money as much as possible. One thing that we always did however while visiting a different country was to sample the cuisine from that area. I was amazed at how much our daughters loved snails smothered in garlic and butter, and deep fried squid. I remember vividly one trip to Switzerland we all cross country skied 12 miles, then took a cable car to Murren which is a small town nestled in the Swiss Alps. It was snowing heavily, a beautiful winter wonderland. We were ravenous by the time we arrived in the small town which is accessible only by foot or cable car. A small cafe beckoned to us with the wonderful aromas of Swiss and French fare wafting through our senses. Our lunch consisted of hot steamy bowls of french onion soup and a quiche Lorraine which was hastily devoured. The meals are always accompanied by petite loaves of the most heavenly crusty french bread, and if you choose, a nice glass of french red or white wine. Just recalling these wonderful gourmet meals brings me back to those dimly lite cafes where fine dining was the norm. This is just one of so many hundreds of vivid and delicious memories of our experiences in Europe. When we moved back to the states Lee and I tried and tried to replicate the wonderful breads of Europe to no avail. Our breads are delicious, but I am certain that the romantic ambiance of Europe no doubt enhanced the foods even more.
I could go on and on, as you may appreciate I absolutely love traveling, fine dining, and meeting new and different people. Actually, I was in the best physical condition of my life while we lived in Germany. I ran 6 miles religiously every day so I could eat what I wanted, believe me it was worth it. That coupled with the fact that we resided on the third floor of our apartment bldg which by the way provided laundry rooms in the basement, kept me physically in great shape.
Au re voir,
Carol

More tales about Ireland

Lee and I have had so many wonderful and memorable experiences in Ireland. Every place we have visited has given us memories which are priceless, and memories that I shall always cherish. On one visit Lee and I had stopped in a small seaside town . It was getting close to lunch time and we needed to exchange some U.S. dollars for the Irish Punt. As I said "it was a wee town" with only a bank, a hotel and a few other small businesses. When exchanging money the bank requires a passport which I quickly supplied. While in the bank I inquired about a place to eat lunch. The hotel in town was recommended, and Lee and I finished our business and proceeded over to the hotel for lunch. While we were enjoying our lunch, which by the way was a lovely and delicious chowder, I heard my name called out. The bank had called the hotel to see if we had taken their advice to eat there. Apparently, while exchanging money and engaging in some chitchat at the bank I had forgotten my passport. After lunch Lee and I proceeded towards the bank to pick up my passport and be on our way. We should have known better, things just do not happen quickly in Ireland. The bank was closed for lunch which we had completely forgotten is a European custom. The bank would reopen at 1400 for business. Next to the bank was a Video store and we decided to inquire over there, well the lady knew who we were, and told us the woman who works in the bank had informed her in that an American couple would be stopping in to retrieve a passport. The Video store lady actually had the key to the bank, but we said we would wait. No point in creating a fuss about it, she came back shortly and we headed to the West of Ireland. Lee and I were just amazed at how casual everything was there, and further more the trouble they went through to get my passport back to me. It is just one example of the generosity and honesty of the locals.
Another time, Lee and I were celebrating our 30th anniversary, we had no particular plans, no room reservations,etc. Twenty years ago this was easy to do, there were always B & B's or maybe a small hotel to stay. We were pretty spontaneous in those days, the days of our youth. If we stumbled upon something interesting we would just get a room and stay a few days. Well, Lady Luck steered us right to a B & B called Ardmore House in a small town called Clifden in the West of Ireland. The woman who ran it named Kathy Mullins is just a delightful, generous, and hardworking hostess. Behind their house their land spread out all the way to the Mannin Bay which runs off the Atlantic Ocean. The Mullins dog, a large "Old English Sheepdog" named Sam followed us everywhere. When we returned home and were reviewing our photographs "Sam" appeared in nearly every shot. Lee and I took many, many, long walks along the bay which was deserted albeit for the two of us. Actually, it was just the way we like it, Lee and me. We walked out to the bay early one morning and felt fortunate to be able to enjoy watching the dolphins frolicking in the morning sun.
Kathy's husband Padraig played the fiddle at one of the local pubs, we are not much for drinking, but decided to go, especially since they had invited us. We had lots of fun, singing along with the music, and enjoying the local scene. Thank heavens we didn't imbibe much for the road back to the B&B is a very narrow and twisty road which is dangerous even when one is stone sober.
We recommended Ardmore House to several friends who also thoroughly enjoyed their stay, and the accommodations and generosity of the Mullins family.
I will stop for tonight, thank you to all my readers for your support. I appreciate it.
Carol

Ireland, Oh Ireland!

After we spent a few days in and around Killarney, and visiting "The Blarney Castle" where I might add I kissed the "blarney stone," which if you have been there, you are aware that it is no small feat. You almost have to stand on your head, and of course need assistance to accomplish this. I had made reservations for us to go horseback riding through the "Gap of Dunloe." It was a beautiful ride, but it took over 4 hrs. which I am sure you can imagine, became rather uncomfortable. It was absolutely lovely, and eventually our saddle sores faded. We then started North West to "Dingle Peninsula," it is one of the most beautiful places in the world, and we were very fortunate to see the Peninsula when it was relatively virgin land. In 1970 while Lee was in Viet Nam, a movie called "Ryan's Daughter" was filmed there on the Peninsula. After I saw that movie I promised myself I would one day go to Ireland to see this beautiful landscape. Since we first visited the Peninsula there have been many houses built there, the land was purchased by residents of Germany, France, and U.S. citizens as well, for summer homes, and it has changed the personality of the once wide open spaces, and beautiful, breath taking views. We stopped in Tralee along the way which is a lovely, typical Irish town. While we were there I noticed a flyer which advertised Irish dancing, admission was by donation. It was a lot of fun, and really "show cased" some of their traditions. After the dancing, various residents of the town stepped up after their talents were requested, and sang familiar Irish songs. Our journey continued towards Galway which is a lovely more rugged area, with a rocky coast. This is also the area where the beautiful Connemara Pony originated, we were fortunate to see many of these beautiful animals while driving through the area. As we traveled up the west coast of Ireland and north of Galway, Lee asked me if I really wanted to go to the North of Ireland to visit the young couple we met on the ferry. I was elated, and reaffirmed my interest in visiting our new found friends. We crossed from the south into the north without incident. The British soldiers waved us through just as Clive told us they would. It was rather intimidating however, since the soldiers who were stationed along the border were armed with automatic weapons. We just kept our eyes straight ahead and drove right through. We had a lovely meal with Hazel & Clive, and there was no lack of conversation. Hazel is a math teacher, she is very educated and interested in everything. Clive worked for a company called John Player which sells tobacco products. At that time they both were very heavy smokers.
Hazel told me later that her mother was quite upset with her to bring strangers in to their home, and Americans at that. It did not take long for us to win her over, and we have laughed about it over the years. While we were at Hazel's our girls became friends with some of the neighborhood teenagers. On the day we left Northern Ireland one of the boys gave our oldest daughter the flag of Northern Ireland which is the orange flag. The Orange flag is associated with the Protestants. At that time the conflict between the IRA and the British was still going on, the year was 1979. About a week after we left Northern Ireland the young boy was shot and killed in an incident with the British. Our daughter still has that flag, over thirty years later. We headed south towards Dublin, our vacation drawing to a close. Ireland is a beautiful country. This was the first of many visits to this place, this place of my forefathers. When we first arrived in Ireland I was impressed with how much the people resembled some of my own relatives, it was uncanny. As we boarded the ferry bound from Dublin to England, It was like I had taken a walk back in time, I felt like I belonged, and I knew I'd be back again.
Goodnight Carol

We continue on our trip to Ireland, my dream come true

By the time Lee and I and the girls boarded the huge ferry, we lost track of the Irish family. The ferry boat had several levels, and we had no idea where the young couple was seated. After about 1 1/2 hrs into the trip, the girls and I decided to go for a little stroll to find some snacks. On our way back to where we had been sitting we passed by Hazel & Clive and the baby. I heard someone call my name, what a pleasant surprise to meet up with our new found friends. This was certainly a serendipitous reunion of sorts, and I am eternally grateful for it. The girls located Lee and brought him back so that we could all sit together. Actually, Lee was a little skeptical, I mean we just met these people, he said. I have always considered myself a good judge of people, and I had absolutely no qualms whatsoever about these people, and besides they're Irish! The baby started to get fussy and Hazel had nothing left to put in her bottle. I carried snacks and juice routinely in those days, as those products tended to be expensive to purchase in local stores. Our stock was pretty much depleted for the day, except for 1 small can of apple juice. Alison drank the juice without hesitation, even though her "mum" was a little leery about it. She had never put juice in the bottle before. The baby quickly settled down and went off to sleep, and Hazel was very grateful. Our journey was almost complete, and we would both go our separate ways. The Irish family would head North towards Belfast, and we were South bound. One of our first stops was the beautiful town of Killarney. Even back then, which is over 30 years, it was quite touristy, but it is a lovely place non the less. Before we separated, Hazel invited us "to take a meal" with them at their home, and we said our goodbyes. I was very pleased, and honored by the invitation to their home, but since they lived in the North of Ireland, Lee did not think it would be prudent for us to go there. Keep in mind that this was 1979 and Belfast, and the town where Hazel lived, Omagh were especially hot spots, and Lee was active duty in the U.S. Military. I was disappointed, but I certainly understood. However, Clive explained to Lee that the border crossing from the South to the North would not be a problem for us because were are Americans.
When we arrived at the Wexford landing, a middle age man approached us to ask for a ride into town. His name was Paddy O'Brien, and he had imbibed heavily in his favorite alcoholic beverage. He was harmless enough, we dropped him off in the middle of the town square. "Paddy" offered to show us around the City of Wexford, and the local sights. We thanked him, and then headed off to start yet another wonderful adventure. This was over 30 yrs, ago, and it was common at that time to offer a ride to someone who was stranded. This was done without fear of harm. In fact, many teenagers hitchhiked their way through Europe without incident, and have many stories of generosities bestowed upon them by the Europeans. My emotions caught me off guard as we landed in Ireland. My eyes filled with tears as we disembarked from the ferry, I felt a kinship with this country. It was as if I was coming home. This was the place my father's mother, Elizabeth was born, and loved. Here was a woman who in her late 30's had to abandon her mother country, and many family members as well. She set out on a voyage with other relatives, and friends to America to begin a new life, filled with hoped and dreams for a more prosperous life. Living in Ireland had been a terrible struggle, there was so much poverty, and no jobs, a bleak picture for the future, all of which contributed greatly to a mass exodus for many Irish families. , When I was a small child, my grandmother used to reminisce about Ireland and how beautiful it was. She sang Irish songs, one of her favorites was "I'll take you home again Kathleen." She married my grandfather in 1903 at the age of 40 and gave birth to 6 sons, she was 52 years old when her last child was born. When I was born in 1940, she was delighted, not only because I was a girl, but because I had bright red hair and bright blue eyes as well. She called me her little "chatterbox!" with her thick Irish brogue!
Goodnight for now, Carol

The miracle of life, her name is "Saoirse" pronounced Sayr-sha, of Celtic origin, meaning FREEDOM

I have been remiss in announcing to all my blogger friends that Lee and I are presently in Portland, Oregon to meet our newest granddaughter. Her name is Saoirse, it is a Gaelic name which means "freedom." Her name is pronounced SAYR SHA, and she is absolutely beautiful. She has lots and lots of auburn hair, blue eyes which when she is awake are bright and alert. They say that when baby's smile it is gas, but this baby appears to smile appropriately. This is a completely unbiased opinion, of course, from a grandmother who has loved this infant from the time I knew of her existence growing in the recesses of her mother's womb. Lee and I now have 5 grandchildren, 2 boys and 3 girls and we are elated to welcome this little girl into our family. A new baby is a sign of hope, and new beginnings, expectations, and dreams of a bright future. An indication that life goes on and the future is bright. These children are part of a new generation, a generation full of fresh ideas, broad horizons, and endless opportunities. I have heard comments such as "I wouldn't want to bring a baby in to this world with all of the turmoil going on." Those of us who have lived through national tragedies, disasters, and periods of grave sadness may become jaded at times, but we must not allow ourselves to dampen the spirits of young couples. Couples who are eager and may I dare say even passionate to create a family of their own. All of us who have children have created a legacy which will live long after we are gone. It can at times evoke strong emotional feelings for me when our family is all together. Regardless of whatever problems and/or troubles our family has experienced in the past, it is very obvious that we all love each other very much. Recently, we had a house guest and we had a family get together so everyone could visit with our guest. After everyone had left, our guest commented that we had such a wonderful family, and that he was impressed at how they all hugged and kissed one another. It was a long time coming, but as we grow older I think we become more generous and more tolerant in our assessments of people in general, and family in particular. Life has a way of moving along at a swift pace and we begin to realize what is really important to us. When we were going through the heartbreaking and painful problems of our addicted son, there were times when I felt that life was not worth living. Thankfully, I was able to rally, and keep putting one foot ahead of the other. I never gave up hope that our son would return to be reunited with our family. As I told him, I always knew that "my son" was inside that body somewhere. It is easy to give up and walk away, and at the time his sisters were fed up and ready to do just that. As his mother who had carried him for 9 months inside my body I was not prepared to do that.
I was not aware at the time, but our son unfortunately was a symptom of other problems in our family, he was a scapecoat really. I was a very angry woman at that time. My relationship with Lee was strained, I felt like I was raising the children alone. It was several years later before I began to see a Clinical Psychologist on a regular basis, and to discuss with her the events of my childhood which influenced my adult life. I may be redundant in saying this, but I feel that therapy gave me a new life, a life that I enjoy much more.
In some ways I feel that I have made it my life's work to educate myself, and attempt to understand the dynamics of a healthy family. It has definitely paid off and I still consider it a work in progress. Our son has told us many times how fortunate he is to have such a supportive family. While he was in rehab he had to participate in group discussions. These discussions can be difficult, especially for individuals who have difficulty expressing their feelings. He told us some of the stories he heard from other clients. Stories of abuse, abandonment, and neglect, and our son told us "I was not brought up like that, my family never treated me like that." The important part for me is that we are all together now, helping one another, and being present for each other. Lee and I moved to Arizona solely to be closer to our children and grandchildren. We frequently take the 2 older kids (15 & 16) to various appointments, and then we usually try to squeeze in lunch so we have a chance to chat with them.
As usual, I have veered off the track. I am aware that I am doing it, but I feel compelled, it seems, to put my thoughts down on paper as they come to me. Certain areas of my life are difficult, and painful to recall, and sometimes when I set out to write exclusively about these painful experiences, I seem to "freeze up," and be unable to write at all. When this occurs I may feel a sadness, or a darkness come over me as a result of delving into the past. At this point, I will do my best to weave together these thoughts and stories to make some sense for my readers.
This edition started out with the news of our beautiful granddaughter, and how this birth has renewed our spirits, hope, and sense of enthusiasm for the future. When I hold a new baby, there is such a sense of awe and amazement. I have always considered it a privelege, to be able to witness the miracle of birth again, and again, as I have done over a period of 25 years. It goes without saying that my sense of happiness, and elation, are heightened considerably when the baby I am holding is one of our own grandchildren. As I held this tiny little replica of not only her mother and father, but all of the blood relatives on both sides of her family. I see little facial expressions, and glimpses which remind me of our beautiful daughter as an infant. The baby has fair hair and skin as her mother does, and every day it seems there are changes in her appearance. Having worked as a OB/Labor & Delivery nurse for many years, I never lost my enthusiasm and energy to work with couples to have a good, happy, and safe experience. Many times, I would still get teary eyed when the baby was born. The delivery room, usually filled with family, and friends who demonstarted a myriad of emotions, tears, laughter and hope. Over the 25 years of assisting patients in labor/delivery I have seen many, many babies who were not born perfect, and had some sort of anomaly. I also have seen babies who did not survive for one reason or another. Therefore when couples had their heart set on the sex of the baby, I have tried to gently remind them that the most important thing is for you to have a "healthy baby."
Having had so many years experience was a detriment for me with our daughter's pregnancy. Coupled with the fact that we live about 1300 miles away from her. From the time I found out she was pregnant, I worried and ruminated about the possible problems which could occur, especially since our daughter is an "older mom." But just as God worked his magic to create, and mold each intricate feature and bring forth this beautiful perfect baby girl, He also guarded and protected our daughter and kept her healthy during her pregnancy.
In closing this episode , let me say if you are privileged to have a new baby, a toddler or young child in your life as I do, you will quickly appreciate and enjoy, the energy, optimism, and the complete innocence and exuberance that they possess. Lee and I returned this week after traveling to meet our grandaughter, we were gone almost 1 month. When we arrived at our oldest daughter's home unexpectedly, what a warm and wonderful welcome we received from our 2 1/2 yr. old grandson, Ben, and our 6 yr.old granddaughter, Olivia. They make it all worthwhile for me, and I really did miss them as we are accustomed to seeing them almost every week. They are part of my being and my every fiber. I thank God every day for the gifts He has given me. If I died today I would die a happy and fulfilled woman. Live life to the fullest, "take the bull by the horns and enjoy every minute of it."
Enjoy your weekend and have fun.
Carol











Sometimes when I am watching our children interact with each other, I marvel at this group of eight individuals. People who with God's assistance were brought into this world because of the love which Lee and I share. here is

"We go rolling along"

It was not very long before I found myself with too much extra time on my hands. Remember, we only had a 1000 sq. ft apartment. The girls were both in school all day, and of course, Lee worked most days, albeit short days. Compared to Lee's last assignment, the 130th station hospital at Heidelberg was a "dream" job. While Lee was assigned at Walter Reed Army Hospital, he routinely worked 10-12 hour days.
I enjoyed playing golf and tennis, however I really did not care for a lot of the "ladies" activities. I attended when I needed to, but it wasn't really my "cup of tea", no pun intended.
I talked to Lee about it, and as always he was supportive of my new interests. The hospital, as well as many other facilities on post, always needed volunteers. Actually, as an officer's wife there was an expectation to help out and volunteer. While Lee was stationed at Fort Devens I volunteered at the Thrift Shop, and both of us taught Religious Education which I enjoyed. The hospital was the place I was most interested in, and subsequently made an appointment with the Director of Volunteers. As I remember, I barely stepped foot in the office, and was "hired," so to speak. They needed a volunteer for the OB/GYN clinic, I was excited, and planned to work one day a week. Since a large number of the military were young, and childbearing age, the clinic was extremely busy. As I said, I planned to work one day/wk. The staff would call me almost every day to come in to help out, and many times I did answer the call. At one point I was working in the hospital 4-5 days a week. I did that for about i year. It was a wonderful experience for me, and I learned a great deal. In the months that I had volunteered, I had noticed that there were many positions open for employment in the hospital. I decided to apply for a position in the hospital's central appointment office. Keep in mind, this was 1980, and I had not been gainfully employed since 1966 when our second child was born. Needless to say, I was rather anxious at first. I had been out of the work force for over twelve years. The position entailed manning several telephones, and remembering the order of the calls. Appointments were made for all of the various clinics, and we also made referrals for Landstuhl General Hospital for the various specialties. My 40th birthday was looming in the fore front. Most of the girls I worked with were in their early twenties. They accepted me quickly and I enjoyed the work, and I really enjoyed receiving a pay-check. In retrospect, this position in the hospital did wonders for my self esteem. Lee was on the staff and therefore I knew many people immediately, and felt accepted and valued. Now, I could contribute to our travel fund, and we could actually travel more with the extra income. Monetarily, it was not the best time to be living in Europe. The dollar was weak against the German Deutsche-mark. On our arrival in Germany, the exchange was 2 marks per American dollar. It proceeded to get weaker and weaker, and I believe at one point it dropped to 1.65 German marks to the dollar. When we arrived in Germany, many Americans told us that it was very expensive to travel. They told us if you travel, you can't afford to purchase European products, so it is either/or. Therefore,based on this information we purchased a camping travel within the first couple weeks of being in the country. It turned out to be a wonderful purchase for us, and allowed us to do much more traveling. Our daughter's were at a perfect age for travel, 9 and 11 years old. When we left Germany at the end of Lee's tour, we sold the trailer for the exact same price we had purchased it 3 1/2 years earlier. While living in Germany we were exposed to products all over Europe, and the United Kingdom. One of our first purchases was Waterford Crystal, made of course in Waterford, Ireland. In 1978 we purchased water goblets for $18.00/stem. In 1998 I had to replace one which was broken by a friend while helping me with the dishes. The replacement was $75.00/stem. They will be passed on to our daughters, therefore I wanted them to have 6 stems each. As an aside, ever since that happened I delay washing the dishes until our guests leave. Actually, it is two fold, I want our guests to relax, and I like to visit with them after the meal.
Returning to the purchase of the travel trailer, one of our first trips was to Ireland. The trailer was packed with provisions for an entire month. Fortunately, we had shipped our Chevrolet Suburban to Germany, and it was the perfect vehicle for us, albeit large and not economical. The girls had lots of room to play and were comfortable, and had plenty of room to sleep. That car was a conversation starter every where we traveled. At that time, European cars were all compacts pretty much. However, many Europeans loved the large American autos! Once in Wales, we were stopped at a traffic light when pedestrians began to crowd around our car. They were exclaiming what a "lovely" automobile it t'was, and it even has a third seat in the rear. I can still hear that Welsh accent as they marveled over that car.
Our voyage to Ireland was one of the most wonderful, and memorable for me, being of Irish heritage. We drove from Heidelberg to Belgium where we boarded an enormous ferryboat which took us to Dover, England, a trip of approximately 3 hours. That evening we all wanted to have a nice hot shower. We soon discovered that the facilities were somewhat antiquated, compared to what we were accustomed to. Our oldest daughter came out of the shower with a quizzical expression on her face. The shower was sort of like an upside down tin trash can cover with holes in it. There was a chain to pull to let the water down, and it seemed a bit complicated, therefore we took a shower together. I pulled the chain for her while she soaped up, and then vice-a-verse. We were laughing and having a good old time.
It was our first visit to England, therefore we trooped around London to see as many sights as we could on foot. We also used the subway, (called the Tube,) and the red doubledecker buses. It was all great fun, and we were in awe of this beautiful city. The one down side was that it poured rain, and even with slickers and umbrellas, we were all soaking wet. In retrospect, it turned out to be fortuitous for us. Since we were trying to cut corners on expenses, we had planned to eat in restaurants as little as possible. Lee and I talked about it, and decided that we wanted the girls to get warm, and perhaps dry out a little. The last thing we wanted was for them to get sick, especially just starting our trip. So we went into a restaurant and enjoyed a lovely meal of English fare, albeit expensive. Everything on the menu is alacarte, therefore it can be pricey! This was my first experience of eating Plaice (a mild, delicious white fish) The girls really enjoyed everything as well, especially the "fish n'chips" and "licked the platters clean", so to speak. The reward for which was a wonderful dessert of raspberry trifle, and of course their first experience in an English Pub.
The next day we were scheduled to board another giant ferry from Fish guard,Wales which would transport us to Wexford, Ireland. Little did we know that the Sea Links Ferry was experiencing what they referred to as a "slow down." Consequently, the line to embark the ferry was very long. Our family was the last to board the ferry, this was related to unhitching our travel trailer so that the crew could maneuver it into a corner of the ship. It was a beautiful sunny day in Wales and we were informed that due to the slowdown it would be several hours before we would be boarding the ship. As time went on the weather turned warmer, and we all began to get out of our automobiles and mingle with one another. There was a young Irish family ahead of us, they had a beautiful baby girl, and she was just such a delightful, happy baby. She had black curly hair and bright blue eyes, with porcelain looking skin. I talked to the baby and she had the most beautiful smile, and a sweet disposition. I commented to "Alison's mum that her baby is beautiful. Thus, started a wonderful relationship which has endured over 30 years. >
This offering for my blog sort of took on a life of it's own, therefore it is continued on the next blog.
Thanks,
Carol

Life goes on..............

Our living situation in Germany was different from the way we were accustomed to living in the States. There were long cinder block buildings which were divided by stairwells. Each stairwell had 4 apartments. On one side there were 3 bedroom apartments, and the other side, were four bedrooms with 2 bathrooms. We were fortunate to get a 4 bedroom, and envied by some of the other stairwell residents. Actually, the truth of the matter was that we had 3 children, one of whom is a boy, therefore we qualified and received a "larger" apartment. The larger apartment had a total of 1000 sq. ft. And yes, we were entitled to a second bathroom, thankfully!
Regretfully, at the last minute, our son chose not to accompany us to Europe. He was able to visit, and we enjoyed showing him all of our favorite sights. Needless to say, he also enjoyed many of the German beers. We also talked on the telephone often to keep in touch, and Lee made a couple trips back to the states to check on our son. It was not a ideal situation, but he did stay in touch with us.
We were very fortunate to be able to travel often, most weekends we visited someplace. It could be a weekend in Switzerland, The Netherlands, France, Italy, all of these countries were only a short driving distance from Heidelberg. Our first trip to Switzerland was like a "fairy tale" to me. We reserved a campsite in a lovely campground in a village called Lauderbrunnen. (This was one of the gems which a friend passed on after their visit) The campground is nestled in a beautiful valley, and is surrounded by the Swiss Alps. The mountains were snow capped and magnificent, and left us breathless! We all went for a long walk after we finished setting up our travel trailer. The country side is so picturesque, it was a lovely autumn day, the leaves were crunchy under our feet. The brown Swiss cows grazing in the pasture wore a bell around their neck, just like I had seen them in the travel brochures. Lee and I were both taking photography courses at the time, and this was certainly a "shutter bugs' paradise. We have wonderful memories preserved on film from our various sojourns while living in Europe.
The first thing our daughters did after arriving at the campground was to scope out the bathrooms. They were happy to report that the bathrooms were spotlessly clean, AND the bathroom was warm. Probably sounds a little insignificant to some people, but for us it was important and a lovely bonus! I must interject here, the restrooms in most of the countries of Europe are very clean. This was the first of several trips to Switzerland. Lee and I celebrated one of our anniversaries there, which happens to be in late November. The weather was bitter cold with several feet of snow. We still stayed in our camper. At that time we used a catalytic heater which was very efficient. Years later, we heard of people who succumbed as a result of fumes from these heaters. Lee assured me that he always cracked a window to prevent such an accident. Thank God!
There was a beautiful church nearby and we wanted to attend mass. We walked to the church and there was a sign which directed us around the church, and continued on to the school. Lee knocked on the door, we were welcomed by a flurry of children who could not hide their delight, and excitement at seeing American visitors. They were so sweet, as they proceeded to hang our coats up, and then quickly get chairs for us. No one spoke English, but it did not matter, we were gathered there for the same reason. It was an austere classroom, but something beautiful happened there that evening. The communion was stored in a Tupperware container, the first and only time I have ever experienced that. After mass, we shook hands with many of the parishioners. It was one of the most memorable experiences of my life, and will always be very special to me.
There was a little town called Wengen on top of the mountain which could be seen from Lauderbrunnen. The only access to that town was by cog wheel train, or by foot.
Lee and I decided to go to Wengen, and we made the decision to hike up to the town. In those days, we were both very physically fit, so hiking up to Wengen seemed like a "lark." How difficult could it be? Turns out that it was very difficult. Now-a-days people say it was challenging. Whatever adjectives you chose to use, it was grueling. It took several hours for the two of us to climb up that mountain. The pathways were well worn, rocky and scraggly, making it difficult to get a good foot hold. It was starting to get dark and cool on top of the mountain by the time we reached the summit. Our sweaters were soaked with perspiration, and we were exhausted, but we were victorious.
That's it for tonight friends,
Thank You,
Carol

The Fasching Party

As I have previously stated, we were the only Americans invited to the party. Therefore, we were naturally excited, and anticipating the evenings events. This was all a new experience for Lee and I. We had never been to The Mardi Gras and had no idea what to expect. That evening was the first and ONLY time in over 50 years that I convinced my husband to wear a costume. Since a costume was requested I felt that it would be insulting to our host if we did not oblige. It was a wonderful experience for our girls too. They loved wearing costumes and making new friends. The food and wine were abundant, and our German hosts were very welcoming and cordial. I engaged in a rather heavy conversation with a lovely lady named Brigitta. She was from the northern part of Germany where the people were not as Americanized, and therefore spoke very little English. It was amazing really how the delightful German wines improved my ability to speak German, and Brigitta's English so that we could carry on a meaningful conversation. The year was 1978, it was right around the time when the Mini Series about The Holocaust aired on American television. Surprisingly, Brigitta introduced the topic which rather caught me off guard, I would not have broached this subject because I thought it was taboo. She was concerned that Americans hated the German people because of the Holocaust, and verbalized that Americans probably knew little else about her country's people. I assured her that my generation did not hold the sins of the past against the people of the present. She had tears in her eyes as she talked about the youth of Germany, and how they had voiced their disdain, and accused her generation of "turning a blind eye" on the torture and disappearances of the Jews. I felt privileged then, and have a renewed sense of gratitude now that Brigitta confided her feelings to me. She went on to explain that "Yes, we knew that our neighbors were disappearing, and being taken away, but we kept our eyes straight ahead, fearing for our own lives, and the lives of our family, every day." It was painful to witness how the weight of that terrible event has taken its toll on this lovely lady. She suffers her private "hell" as do many of her generation, and is ashamed of the terrible deeds which occurred under the dictatorship of Hitler.
The celebration was delightful and somewhat mild, according to some of the tales that were revealed that evening. Apparently, the serious revelers take an "anything goes' attitude regarding their behavior, even going so far as taking a paramour. These short lived associations sometimes resulted in a pregnancy, which from all accounts was accepted. Risky behavior facilitated by the ever present libations, which are ubiquitous at these festivities.
I must confess here that this is the one, and only time of my life that I imbibed lets say a "trifle" too much. We drove back to our trailer, we were camping in the Switzerland Alps. It was late February, so quite nippy, but beautiful still and the sky was clear as a bell. The party was to be continued the next day at Lore's sisters home, but not before we all attended the 0900 parade. When I awoke the next morning, I thought I was near death. Actually, I thought death would be the better option as my head was absolutely pounding! Lore' was absolutely incredulous that I was ill. Why? she exclaimed, "the food was gut, the wine was gut?" Yes, it was, but I was a novice in the wine drinking department, and I did indeed learn my lesson from that experience.
The hour is late, so I bid you goodnight.
Carol

We proceed towards our new adventures in Europe, albeit with a heavy heart.

Good evening friends, please forgive me for the extended hiatus. It has not been intentional, but I really think it was writer's block. I was not productive with anything it seems. Hopefully, now with the onset of a new month I will be refreshed and energetic, and more productive.
I must digress for a short discussion about the "friends" who assisted me in Virginia, and subsequently took the girls and I to the "Dulles Airport." We met this couple at William Beaumont Army Hospital in October 1968. Lee was about to start anesthesia school. OJ had been assigned Lee's sponsor which means that he showed us around the area, helped us find a house to rent, and just generally made us feel welcome. All of this wonderful hospitality with a heavy heart as OJ was on his way to Viet Nam. He is a very affable, jovial guy with a HUGE heart. It is obvious that he loves people and only sees the good in them. OJ is the type of guy who would take the shirt off his back in a heart beat if he thought you needed it. His wife is a joyful, loving and giving, Christian woman with a heart of gold, and a deep love of God. Over the years she has helped me to see how God has a plan for all of us. It may not be the plan we want at the time, but ultimately it is the best and most beneficial solution. She also helped me to learn that I must be patient, because God has a different timetable than we do. Patience has never been my long suit. However, eventually when I realized that I was not in control of my own life, let alone someone else's, I had to surrender, and ask for God's help. We have been friends with this couple since 1968, and we truly love each other. Remember, I said that he helped us find a place to live, well, they found reasons for us to stay with them for 10 days after we arrived that Friday afternoon. They are "true friends" in every sense of the word. Our first meal with them consisted of macaroni & cheese in a box, hot dogs and green beans, and it tasted delicious! We still kid each other about that meal and one of these days it may be dinner again.
To really put in perspective how I feel about this couple, I drove from Killeen, Texas to Battle Creek, Michigan in June of 1984. A distance of approximately 1300 miles to offer my support to them in a family crisis. Our then 15 year old daughter accompanied me on the trip. I have never regretted doing it and would do it again without hesitation.
Back on track, we have arrived in Germany and are ready to roll. As soon as Lee received orders for Germany I enrolled at the local Community College and took 2 courses in German. Literally, the day after arriving in Germany I was in downtown Heidelberg, Germany shopping! I wanted to meet the people and talk to them, and I wanted to learn about their customs, and sample their food. I had enough enthusiasm for the entire family. Our youngest daughter was eager to learn the language, perhaps more uninhibited about making mistakes. However our 12 year old was rather reticent, and reserved, and just plain did not want to try. I persevered trying to get her interested, and I found the key. She loved the food, and the rule was, I'll tell you what to ask for, but you must do the asking. One day we were at one of Heidelberg's wonderful Saturday open markets. This was something we all looked forward to, there was fresh made bread, and rolls called "brochen," which were crusty on the outside and "oh" so soft inside. Our oldest daughter asked a German lady for a "gerkin" which is their word for pickle. Well! that lady came right around the counter and hugged our daughter. It was then, that the light dawned on her, that it really meant a lot to the native people when you at least tried to use their language.
Americans were quite easy to pick out of the crowd. Usually, they wore jeans and were sometimes rather boisterous. Therefore, I felt complimented that the German people would begin talking German to me thinking I was a local. I loved the people there and I enjoyed every minute spent living in Germany. Actually, I learned a great deal about life and how to really enjoy your life and family from the German people. They lived a slower life, the merchants all closed their shops for lunch, and a cat nap. This was a real bone of contention with the American population. They would become angry because they had been inconvenienced, and did not appear to honor the German people's customs. The German grocery stores and the bakery and butcher shops all were closed after 1 pm on Saturdays as well. The merchants designated one weekend each month when they stayed open until 6 pm in the evening. The Americans had access to a convenience store on the military post, but they still complained.
Upon arriving in Germany, the girls and I were delighted to hear that within a few days, we would all be going on a trip to Holland. Both maternal and paternal grandparents of Lee were all born in Holland, so the trip had a special meaning. The room we stayed in was on the third floor of a very old hotel with no elevator. It was fine for our use, nothing fancy, but it served our purposes. As I recall it was quite expensive by American Standards though. One of the first places we visited in Holland was "The Keukenhof." This is where the beautiful gardens are rich with all kinds of elegant, but common flowers. Tulips of every color in the rainbow. Gorgeous daffodils which announce the arrival of spring with their bright yellow faces. Brilliant hues of various shades of purple displayed in their beautiful iris. There were fields of all these flowers and more, which when we looked down the fields appeared to be as a lovely carpet on display.
We found the people of Holland to be very congenial, and helpful, with directions and such. There are actually cities in Holland named Edam and Gouda, Cities made famous by those pungent and delicious cheeses. In the center of these towns they hold a cheese auction every week. Delft, which is glazed earthenware is a well known product of Holland, made in the city of Delft. It is usually painted blue and white, this is done by hand and signed by the painter. I was fortunate to buy two pieces of delft, one the traditional blue and white, the other multi-colored. This was 1978 and they were just beginning to use the multi-colors for their figurines. It was a wonderful introduction to Europe for all of us. I still have vivid memories of that fabulous trip. By the time we arrived back in Heidelberg it had been just 10 days since we left the United States. Honestly, I think someone threw the chicken-pox virus on the girls as we strolled through the airport! They were both extremely sick and literally covered with blisters. Our oldest daughter has several obvious chicken-pox scars much to her chagrin.
Lee and I and our girls benefited greatly from a wonderful German school teacher named Lore'. A fellow CRNA who had previously been stationed in Heidelberg was friends with Lore'. He was gracious enough to give her our information, and she sort of adopted us for the next 3 1/2 years. Actually, she is a lifetime friend. Lee and I visited and stayed with her and her new husband Horst when we returned to Germany in 1991. Then a few years later Lore' and Horst came to the United States for an extended visit, and stayed with us for a few days. They had amassed so many American friends over the years that they actually visited several families who lived in different states. Lore' is a typical, no nonsense, confident, self assured German lady, with a heart of gold. An example of her personality, she would invite me for coffee at 3 pm, if I rang the door bell at 2;55, lore' would remind me that the invitation is for 3 pm, not 2:55!! At first I would become a little piqued with her, but soon forgot about it and respected her wishes in the future. Lore" took us to the most wonderful and unusual places in Germany. She rather detested all of the more "well known" American haunts which seemingly every American visited. The "Oktoberfest" (german spelling) Nurnemberg, Munich, were places that most American's visited, and to be sure they are lovely, beautiful places. But Lore' took us to places that we had never heard of before and were equally, if not more lovely. Every spring she took us to a brewery in Mannheim for Bock beer which is traditionally a dark beer brewed in the spring. She introduced us to her private winery which is owned and run by Herr Hartmann and his family. Wineries are generally fairly small there and run by the family. The Hartmann's are a wonderful family, and we purchased many a bottle of wine from them. As a Christmas gift one year Herr Hartmann gave us a wine bottle opener made from a very sturdy grape vine. It has been over 30 years ago that he gave it to us, and we still use it, and each time we use it we are reminded of some lovely memories.
Lore' invited us to her house for a "Fasching" party which is the pre-Lenten period of revelry which is akin to our "Mardi Gras We were the only Americans invited and considered it an honor to be included with her family and friends.
I'll stop here for now and continue tomorrow as I am somewhat fatigued tonight. Thank you for your loyalty. Carol

Our son is discharged from drug rehab program

By the time our son was discharged from the drug rehab program he was almost 18 years old. He had met a young woman in the program and decided that he was not coming back home to live. She was from the Baltimore area, and they decided to get an apartment and live together. I felt optimistic about our son, he said all of the right things. After all that is what I wanted to hear, wasn't it? It was about this same time that Lee received orders for Heidelberg, Germany. We were elated, we had always hoped to go to Germany on assignment. Our son assured us that he would be fine, he had gotten a job, and he really was trying to start a new life.
According to Lee's orders he was to report to the 130th Station Hospital in Heidelberg on December 20th,1977. I wanted Lee to try and have the date postponed until after Christmas, but he was reluctant to do so for fear of the orders being canceled. As it turned out, when Lee arrived at his duty station in Heidelberg as he had been directed, the Operating Room was only doing emergency cases. The staff queried Lee's arrival before Christmas. It was a sore subject with me, therefore we did not discuss it in any detail. He was there now, and the girls and I would be following him just as soon as we sold the house. The house finally was sold in March, YEAH! Admittedly, it is not one of my favorite things to be in the process of selling a house. The house has to be spotless all of the time, and Realtors have no compunction about calling the last minute to show the house.
The day came for the movers to arrive and pack up our household. The way it worked is we actually had 3 different shipments. There was the hold baggage which contained the immediate things we would need. These were things like sheets/pillowcases, pots and pans and other necessities to get along with until the rest of our things arrived. All of the large furniture was put into storage. The rest of our household things arrived in Germany about May. On the morning that the packers were coming I was home alone. Friends had asked me if I needed help, but as always I had graciously declined. Usually, when we moved Lee would be present, but of course he was already in Europe. The packers had arrived bright and early, there were 4 men and me. About 8 a.m. someone knocked on the door, much to my surprise, a friend from church stood there with a pot of coffee and a bag of doughnuts. Sandy also had a mop and a bucket with her as well as her 2 year old daughter, Coleen. She had a big smile on her face and said, "I knew you wouldn't ask for help, so here I am." What a welcome sight she was too. I was so surprised and grateful that I was on the verge of tears. Sandy stayed all day and helped me clean, sort things for the church, and just give me moral support, a true friend. We were just about finished, the packers had left and I was just doing some last minute cleaning. I was down on my hands and knees washing the base boards when I felt this sharp object hit my hand. I stood up to examine my hand, but could not detect any wound. Sandy bent over and picked up a sewing needle, or I should say a half a needle. She said "you have the other half of this needle in your hand. I dreaded going to a medical facility, it was about 4 p.m. on a Friday afternoon. Any of the facilities would be busy, but I had to have my hand looked at. Sandy took me to Fort Meade in Maryland. A corpsman looked at the wound and ordered an x-ray. Sure enough there was the other half of the sewing needle sitting between my middle finger and my ring finger. My hand was swelling quickly and I struggled to get my wedding band off. We had been married 18 years and I had never taken my wedding ring off before. The corpsman told me that there was not a surgeon in the hospital. He had spoken with the surgeon who stated that "the patient should return on Monday for removal of the needle." I was scheduled to fly to Germany on Monday evening. I simply told the corpsman, "I am flying to Germany on Monday evening with or without this needle." A few minutes later I was discharged and left the hospital with an antibiotic and some pills for pain. At this point it was approximately 7 p.m. The girls and I said our fond adieus to Sandy, and we headed to Virginia where we were staying with friends. Our friends are both medical professionals, he is a CRNA also the same as Lee. He called a friend who is a surgeon and they smuggled me into the hospital. I did not have insurance for a civilian hospital, and I am eternally grateful to both of them for coming to my aid. It took the physician almost an hour to locate the needle, and remove it. When I left the hospital my hand was wrapped up like a prize fighter and still very numb from the lidocaine anesthetic. In the middle of the night however, I awoke with a throbbing pain in my hand. No matter, I was still happy because in 2 days the girls and I would be winging our way to Germany, to be reunited with Lee.
My bandaged left hand was somewhat beneficial in the airplane and especially in the airport. Our baggage consisted of 7 bags which included a trunk. It would have been really cumbersome for me without the assistance of several generous fellas who helped me. Lee was there waiting for us with open arms, and it felt good to be together again. When we arrived at our apartment Lee had prepared a lovely dinner, complete with homemade brownies. We were all very exhausted and it was about mid-day when we arrived in Germany. We were on European time now and my adrenaline was running high which enabled me to get through the day. The girls and I had some jet lag for a couple days, but we survived and a new adventure was about to begin.
Until next time, be good to one another.
Carol

continuation of the trials of our son

Our daughter's were ages 6 years and 9 years old at the time our son's problems started. They loved their "big brother" and could not understand the change in his behavior. He had become distant and irritable, and did not want to bother with his sisters anymore. He refused to keep his curfew, and basically told us that he would come home when he felt like it. We grounded him, then he started leaving the house by going out of the window. I sat up until all hours of the night waiting for him to come home. Many years later, the girls expressed anger towards me. They felt they did not get "their needs" met because I spent so much time trying to "fix" our son. It was years later before I learned that when one member of the family is ill, it effects the entire family, and is very disruptive. It makes perfect sense to me now, the family is out of balance. Unfortunately, I was not so introspective, or knowledgeable at the time.


Lee and I tried everything to turn our son around, to no avail. He didn't care about what we wanted, or what anyone else wanted, except for his so so called "friends." I would stay up until midnight or later trying to talk to him and explain why we were so concerned about him, and why he had rules to live by. I might have just as well talked to the walls, but I was desperate and I wanted my son back. I felt driven to do something, anything, to help our son to come back to the family. I must be honest here and say that Lee and I were not on the same wave length with our son. Lee insinuated that I was making the problems bigger than they actually were. I felt alone, I felt like I was the cause of our son's behavior problems. After all, my family of origin was certainly dysfunctional with a long line of addicted personalities. Years later while Lee and I were participating in a Marriage Encounter weekend, we talked, and talked, about many things we had never discussed before. It was very emotional for Lee as we recounted that chapter of our life and how painful it was for all of us. A sentinel event occurred one morning shortly after our son had left for school. The school nurse called to say that he had admitted to ingesting 5 Valium pills earlier that morning. The valium tablets were 5 mg. each for a total of 25 mg. The normal dosage is usually 5 mg., therefore you can imagine that he was quite medicated, and stuporous. Luckily, he was 6 ft. tall and weighed about 140, or the results could have been even more disasterous. I picked him up at the school and I had to stimulate him constantly to keep him awake. I called Lee home from the hospital immediately. He was very angry with our son, but did not suggest that we take him to the hospital. We could take care of it ourselves, all we had to do was to keep stimulating him until the Valium wore off. I insisted that we take him to the hospital, and when I make up my mind, I am like a "dog with a bone."Lee complied with my wishes, however he was not in agreement with them and we took our son to Walter Reed Medical Center Emergency Room, where they quickly shunted him to Pediatrics. He was 15 years old at the time. The physician spoke with us, he had already examined and talked with our son. He did not really see any reason for further treatment, because he felt that our son had just experimented this one time. I am compelled to tell you here that our son was a master of deception, and he had "hoodwinked" yet another professional. I was not going to be disuaded and made my wishes known. Both our son and Lee were not happy with me, but as a result of this conversation, we scheduled an appointment with Family Therapy. At first we were scheduled for therapy 3 times per week. One appointment for all 3 of us, another appointment for our son alone, and the third appointment for Lee and I alone. I was the only person who really participated in those therapy sessions. I was very open and honest, but it was like "swimming up stream" for me. Lee had very little to say in therapy, and it seemed to become the focus of the Psychiatrist to prod, poke and ignite Lee's anger, in order to elicit some type of feedback from him. It did not work, and Lee really resented the Psychiatrist's tactics. Once again I felt so alone and unsupported. There were times when I felt like I would lose my mind. There were days when I felt like my family would be much better off without me. I started to drink to medicate myself and ease the pain. These were all my unspoken thoughts at the time. I really did not have a confident who I could talk with. After approximately one year our Psychiatrist proclaimed that our son was just a "normal" teenager. I was shocked, dismayed, and disappointed. It was appalling to me that I seemed to be the only person who gave witness to the devious and delinquent behaviors that our son exhibited. When he was a sophomore in high school we were asked to remove him from school OR the school would expel him. Being expelled would be worse for his records they said, so we complied with the administration and removed him. He obtained his GED at a later time, this for a young man who wanted to attend Annapolis at one time. Our son was a very intelligent young man, he had so many aspirations and plans for his future. He was an honor student, and tutored other students who needed assistance. The reason for removing him the school told us was because he was always "high" or "stoned." This was heart breaking for me, I could not believe the way our son had changed. It was like I didn't even know him anymore. Many, many tears were shed over the years as I continued to try and get him to turn his life around. He said he was perfectly happy with his life the way it was, he was fine, it was my problem, he did not have a problem. Lee was still on active duty in the Army, and many times after a big quarrel we would have to make an appearance at a reception, or party. Those events were absolutely joy less for me, but I could plaster a smile on my face for a short time. None of our friends realized what was happening in our household, we were all such good actors in our family. My early life as a child in a dysfunctional family had prepared me well to keep secrets. Around 1976 Lee received orders for Germany which were quickly rescinded after he explained our situation to his commander. It was very disappointing as we had always hoped that we would be able to travel to Europe. It would have been impossible to even consider such a move at this time. Our son was only 16 years old and still heavily involved with drugs. We insisted that he do things with the family, even if it was just going out to dinner. It was not pleasant for any of us though, because he would rush through his dinner and then sit there and pout until we finished, and left the restaurant. He just became more and more distant and disengaged from us, and with life in general. About that time we found out that our biggest nightmare was true, our son was using Heroin. One Saturday morning, I found our son laying on our front porch, it was quite cold outdoors, and he was sleeping on the cold cement. Thank God Lee was at home, it took both of us to get him in the house related to his drugged condition. We stayed with him the entire day, making sure that he was responsive, and of course, the likelihood of him vomiting and aspirating into his lungs was high, so that was another reason for us to be vigilant. I don't remember much conversation between Lee and I that day. Our relationship then and now was worlds apart. We were definitely not in agreement as to the path of treatment we should seek for our son. I think I was still the only one who felt that we needed to do something, and do it quickly.



Keep in mind that we all still attended therapy sessions twice a week. At this time it was suggested that our son be admitted to an inpatient treatment facility. He was in the program for several months, however he really did not participate. He was not interested in rehabilitation, he did not have a problem. It was us, Lee and I, who had the problem. In reality, Lee, myself, and our son were each on our separate little islands. Lee was in denial in a major way. He told me at the time that I was always looking for things to find fault with our son. At that time, I felt so alone and unsupported. This was a very dark time in our marriage. Lee and I began to argue frequently when he was at home. He worked 2 jobs, and at that time I stayed home and took care of the children and household responsibilities. I was usually always alone when something bad happened with our son. Therefore, I was left to my own devices to try and handle the problem As I sit here and try to recall the events of that dark period of our lives, it seems like it all happened in another life, another time so long ago

"our move to Wash. D.C. and the beginning of the 20 year loss of our son"

I have delayed long enough to attempt to continue this trying period of our lives.
Our son was an excellent student, albeit difficult for him each time we moved to a different assignment. He was entering puberty and consequently was experiencing many changes, emotionally and physically. He was 6 ft. tall which was taller than most of his friends at that time. However, his emotions had not caught up with his height. At the age of 14 he started to leave the house at night to meet up with his friends who did not have a curfew. Lee and I were not aware of this however for quite a while. Actually, Remembering back, I think it was several months before we found out. The layout of the house was a split level, so that our son had his bedroom downstairs and the girls and Lee and I were on the second level. There was a door downstairs which made his exits very smooth without us hearing him leave. One night Lee went down to talk to our son about 10 PM, it was a school night so he should have been in his room. However, he was not in his room and we were incredulous. We started to check with the neighbors and after only a few minutes we found him. He was at one of the neighbors who had 2 teenage girls a few years older than our son. This particular house appeared to be a meeting place for several teenagers who were not really concerned with school, but rather they were engaged in other activities. One of these activities was smoking pot and staying up until all hours of the night. Up to this point we had never had any serious problems with our son. His grades however had started to slide and we were concerned about it and tried to talk to him about it. At that time he had also been tutoring other students, but his interest started to decline. He became distant and was no longer interested in family activities. He refused to keep his curfew and would tell me "I will not be here, so don't bother waiting for me." At this time it seemed like I was always alone to handle these problems. Lee worked a second job and therefore was absent a lot when significant events happened. I tried to talk to Lee about our son's problems, but he was in denial. He would tell me "you are always looking for something." It was around this time that a family member visited us and knew that our son was leaving the house at night. However, she chose not to inform us for reasons of her own. It was actually several years after these events before she informed us of her knowledge of his leaving the house and staying out all hours of the night. This was and remains for me a very painful disclosure. For me, there would have been no doubt that I would inform the parents of any inappropriate or harmful behavior. In fact, I have done that very thing on several different occasions to protect the child's welfare.
It was in the spring of 1975 the school called to say that our son had ingested 25 mg of Valium and was quite incapacitated. I immediately went to the school to bring our son home, and subsequently to the hospital. He had obtained the Valium from our medicine cabinet at home. Lee was at work when I called him and met me at the hospital. The physician who saw our son thought that it was an isolated incident and we should not worry about it. However, I persisted verbalizing my concern because I felt that we should be engaged in some sort of therapy with our son. The therapy was helpful to me. Lee and our son went through the motions to please me, I am assuming. Our son simply pulled the wool over the psychiatrists eyes. Actually, the psychiatrist told us that our son was just a normal teenager, and he would out grow this behavior. A few weeks later, after receiving phone calls all hours of the night, and unsavory characters coming to our home, it was evident that our son was selling drugs. I called the psychiatrist and asked him "is this what you consider normal teen age behavior?" He admitted that he had been "hood-winked!" Lee and I were devastated and did not know where to turn for help. We did continue with therapy for another year, but it really was not helpful. In order for therapy to help the participants have to want to be there. Lee and our son did not want to be there, they were only there physically. Remember, that this was 1975, and therapy was not something that most people wanted to participate in. You definitely did not want this information written on paper in your personal file.
I have struggled with recalling this time period of my life and the events which occurred. A curtain of sadness has been drawn over me as I relive this period of my life. It is actually much more difficult than I expected it to be. I will fill in the rest of the blanks soon , I promise.

"A day in the life"

To all my blog readers,
Today was a really wonderful day for me, not because anything special happened, it is just the way I feel inside. It is a feeling which is difficult to describe, a feeling that all is right with the world. It is also an emotional time for me as well, I may become weepy just watching my grandchildren play, or when they say something which really touches my heart. Everything is a wonder to me now. Recently. our daughter told us she felt the baby move for the first time that day, it was very special that she shared that with us, and also very emotional for both Lee and I. It seems like just a short time ago our children were young and Lee and I were struggling to make ends meet. Now we have lived over three quarters of our lives, and starting to have some health issues. The years have passed by like a sudden windstorm and our lives have been fast forwarded. Where have the years gone? When we are young, we yearn to be older, then all of a sudden we are older and cannot understand how it happened. Seemingly in the blink of an eye, the years move swiftly by, unnoticed. One would think that this is rich and valuable information for our young people today. However, many will make the same mistakes that their parents and grand parents made. They all rush, rush, rush to make a living, instead of just living!! Enjoy one another, savor each day, look around and appreciate the beauty of this country we live in, the freedom we enjoy, and thank God for every single day of your life.
Sometimes, I question my life, "Why have I been given so much? Why am I filled with happiness and gratitude? Part of the answer is that I love and accept myself now. I have forgiven myself for all of the mistakes I have made in my life. This need to be perfect that many of us seem to strive for. Women especially, seem to think that they have to be the be all end all to everyone they interact with, "super moms", super wives" Why? We are human beings with human frailties and consequently we do error at times. I have beaten myself up because I think I could have been a better mother. In retrospect I would have done things differently. Hindsight is a great thing. My role models growing up did not practice methods which I agreed with, corporeal punishment, guilty as charged. Looking back I was 19 years old when I had our first child, with no real tools to help me. The one thing I did have was Love and that is where I began.
Now Lee and I are on the last leg of our trip through the beautiful Northwest. It was Lee's idea that we travel up north for cooler climate to try to improve my health. I have a Chronic Neurological Disease which is worse in the high temperatures of Arizona. It was not something that I had even considered or thought about. My husband is a very unselfish man. It is one of the many reasons why I love him so much. As far as he is concerned "it is no big deal" The man has driven close to 6000 miles so far. If I look at the map and say "gee that looks like a beautiful place" or "lets see what is on the other side of this island" Lee points our vehicle in that direction. It has been a magical trip in many ways. We could do whatever we wanted when we wanted. It has been good for me in the north country, I do feel better and seem to have a little more energy.
Lee and I have been married for 50 years, but age is a relative thing. Yes, of course chronologically we are old enough to be married 50 years, but we don't think at that level yet. This trip in actuality is our umpteenth "honeymoon." Sometimes we act like kids again. After all it is just the two of us, nobody else witnesses how "goofy" we can be together. At our age the inhibitions gotta go too. I mean come on "whats to hide at this age." Both of us are still kind of "touchy feely kind of people. Just with each other, and/ or the kids and grandshildren. Who doesn't like to be touched? Did you know that they hire woman for the Neonatal ICU for the sole purpose of holding and stimulating the premature infants? Studies have shown that the infants will not thrive and grow if they do not receive tactile stimulation?
Lee and I still hold hands which would be a difficult habit to break, since we started it in 1958. Some people consider this a corny and high school type behavior thing to do. It works for us. I have to say though that it never ceases to amaze me how some couples still have so many walls up. I was having lunch with a friend one day and I had asked her how her husband was doing? At that time they had been married over 30 years. She told me that she was very unhappy with their sex life. I said have you told Bill how you feel? She almost choked on her sandwich. She said "I can't tell him that." Well, you are telling me, I countered! Talk to each other. PLEASE!!
When I was getting the RV ready to leave I selected about 25 musical CDS to play on our journey. We have played one CD so far, and that one not to completion. The reason for that is that we talk. We talk about our kids, our grandchildren, what we want to do when we get back home, future trips we may be thinking about. AND, we laugh. We can laugh at the most simple things and sometimes just get so silly that we cannot stop laughing!I can honestly say that we love being together and enjoy each others company. One of the main reason's for this is that we are still "in love" with each other. We still do things for each other that for many couples fall by the wayside after their marriage vows. Lee still opens the car door for me and opens store doors, and thinks nothing of it. We both wait on each other at home. If Lee cooks the meal, I cleanup, and vice verse. Probably, the caregiver in each of us helps, because we do "take care" of each other. I know instinctively if something is going on with Lee, and he with me. A day never passes that we don't tell each other "I love You!" Actually, many times every day this is spoken. It also does not hurt that "I am still the "clown," and I am still very "spontaneous!" If I feel like giving him a kiss I do it, he has NEVER pulled away. In fact he loves it! Believe me, I do not profess to know everything about marriage. However, I can share what has worked for us, and believe me over the years many people have asked me how they can achieve what Lee and I share. Many couples hunger for a good marriage and are searching for answers. This is my belief, and this is what I see.
I feel so blessed to have had so many wonderful experiences in my life. The military was difficult at times, but it provided us with so-o many beautiful places to visit. Our family lived in Germany for 4 years and visited so-o many countries, and enjoyed the customs and culture of each place we visited. Many special people have been in my life, people who believed in me and helped me to believe in myself. These people helped me immensely, some are gone now, but I will always treasure them.
I have found peace in my life, a peace I have searched for most of my life. It doesn't take much to make me happy now. Years ago I had a lot of anger and a very short fuse. With the assistance of a very learned and erudite psychologist in Maine I have worked through all of that "stuff." She has assisted me in maneuvering through the very dark chasms of my life. There were incidents in my life that I had never discussed with anyone, not even Lee, and I tell him everything. I feel very fortunate indeed to have found such an experienced individual to work with. We just seemed to click and I trust her implicitly. Believe me I did not trust many people at that time. I have a incredible life partner who has made me happier than I ever thought possible. We have 3 wonderful children whom we love and who love us. AND we have 4 beautiful grandchildren and anxiously awaiting a new one in January. I live for my family and love being involved with the grand kids and their projects. I want our grandchildren to know that they are loved and that they are very important to us. Sometimes I think we lose sight of what is important in life. Believe me it is not "accumulating things!" Our grandchildren have helped me to keep reassessing what is important and necessary in my life. When I look into the eyes of our 6 year old granddaughter I see a wonderful little girl who is happy and carefree, and who loves her family and extended family. She loves it when her cousins all get together at our house and has told me many times, "I love my family." Usually, I try to have some activities planned for the kids when they all come to the house. One of the things they absolutely love is making their own pizza. We have several different kinds of veggies, cheeses and pepperoni and they can just go at it any way they wish. Sometimes after every one has left except my daughter and her 2 little ones, I'll ask Olivia who is 6 , "what did you enjoy the most?" She will think and think, and then reply "I loved everything the best. "Children know what is important to them. They love it when Lee and I do anything with them. Sometimes we take them to Home Depot or Lowe's to get flowers and then we let them plant the flowers themselves. It is fun for us just to watch how enthusiastic they are. Sometimes I will get down on the floor with them, or play "hide and seek"." I can become very uninhibited with the "grand-kids." I sing and dance with them and even crawl through those "maze" like apparatus they have. As you can tell I am crazy about my grandchildren. They are a "gift" from God. Being a grandmother is a privilege. One that I take very seriously. They have changed my life in so many ways and I am eternally grateful to them. Now I know what is important in my life. We have a 2 yr. old grandson Ben who I call my "Velcro" child. Before we went away on our trip he called me "meemaw," when we returned he now calls me "g-maw." We are making progress folks!!
My wish for all of you is that you will find peace and happiness in your life. Pick your arguments, and try to find the good in people. For those of you who are married and somewhat disenchanted with your marriage. Remember what it was that initially attracted you to your husband or partner. Sometimes, the very attribute that you loved about your guy will be the exact same habit that "drives you crazy" now. Talk about it, tell your husband how you feel and what you like and do not like. It sounds tough, but believe me it is not. Just start talking . Make sure you have some quiet time without children and just devote it to each other. Rekindle those feelings and put romance in your life. Just because you are married doesn't mean that you can't have romance in your marriage. It is fun and essential to a good relationship.
Watch for my new blog.
Carol