A Bit of Bubbly

This Thanksgiving we went over to my parents. My son was so excited because he got to play with his favorite people. He is a Grandpa and Daddies boy. My son wanted Grandpa to chase him around. Needless to say my Dad was tired.

My Grandfather had given my parents a bottle of champagne. So my parents thought it would be nice to celebrate and share that champagne with us. My husband tried to get the bottle opened and couldn’t. Then my father tried unsuccessfully. My Brother finally cracked it opened.

When the champagne was poured we noticed it was flat. Needless to say it tasted like dirty feet. I took one sip and could not drink any more. My husband took a sip and said it tasted off. No one else was drinking it so my husband figured he would drink it.

My Dad noticing it was almost gone, wanted to try some. He tried a sip and said it tasted nutty. Like sweaty balls.

I googled the champagne. No wonder why. The champagne was the same age as I was. It was from 1988 and it was 26 years old. Apparently, champagne does not keep as well as fine wine.

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The Gift

We did not get approved for the car loan. However, every cloud has a silver lining. My parents, passing on the great legacy my Grandfather bestowed upon them, decided to help us out. My Mother applied for the loan for the new vehicle, since we could have not afforded another car payment anyways, had we been approved for the loan. She gave us her car. It belonged to her father. It was a bittersweet moment. In may ways, my Grandfather still lives on. He lives through my Mother.

My Grandpa would have done anything for anyone that he loved. It was just what he did. He gave love unconditionally and never asked for anything in return. My Mother and Father are very much the same way. My Mom handed the title over to Me. The last owners name, was my Grandfathers. Yes, this car belonged to my Grandfather. It was never really anyone’s car. We still called it my Grandfathers car after he died. It just didn’t feel right calling anything else. His glasses where in the glove box, right were he left them. The license plate that was his, still in the trunk for safe keeping. This is the car that continues to give. Just as my Grandfather did, and still does even though he is long gone. My Mother and I shared something special yesterday at the Auto title place. A memory of a man we all wish we could share our life and memories with.

We cried as we shared this memory. My Mother inherited the car from my Grandfather. My Mother gave the car to me. It was gifted not once, but twice. the car still keeps giving, just like my Grandfather did. As my parents now do. I thought about how that car my husband was driving, was probably not very safe. I count my blessing,s and can’t help but think my Grandfather had something to do with this. He is still looking down on all of us are all ok. I cant imagine what would have happened to Mike had he not been on a country road. I know my Grandfather is with my family. I have felt he always has been. He continues to live on and his legacy is one that has been passed to my parents and will be passed to us. This is the greatest gift of all. unconditional love, and memories and time spent with those you love that can never be paid back.

A Little Less Rain

Sorry I have been away for so long. My son had some health problems recently without going into detail,  but he is ok now. I have been working a lot to try to pay off debt. It seems like it is a never ending battle.

Recently my husband’s car took a shit, and when I mean took a shit, the whole engine went bad. Now we are in need of a new used car. With times being tough and our credit score being low, we are praying somewhere will approve us for a loan. My car is twenty years old and on its last leg.  So im praying in the that wont take a shit for at least another year. These things that happened could not have happened at a worst time.

I’m trying to stay positive through all of this. It is so hard. Sometimes I feel like crying, screaming, mostly just feel like giving up. I don’t understand why it is so hard for honest people who work their ass off, to just make it by. I have only $80 this week for gas food diapers and wipes. Payday cannot come fast enough.

When it rains it pours. I hope there is a silver lining in this dark cloud. I pray we get approved for this car loan.
I wont be able to blog for a while, unless there is free wifi. For a couple of months now we have had no internet. It is not a necessity, so it goes. I know many of you are in the same exact situation here in America, and other countries as well. Just know that you are not alone. I’m not giving up because my story isn’t  written yet. Neither is yours. We all could use a little less rain.

My Musical Life

This week was a good week for my Son and Family. It brought back many memories.

My Dad is a Music Director at a local Catholic Church. They have a chicken dinner every year to raise money for the parish. My Dad plays the organ for people who are coming to see the church. After I got out of work, my Mother and I took my Son up to the church so he could listen to Grandpa play the organ.

My Son can never sit still very long. I had him in a sling as I walked up and down the aisle. He got excited as we bounced and walked, listening to the music. He began clapping his hands.

I was then reminded what an impact music has had on my life. My parents first met at church. My Mother was filling in for the choir director, my Dad for the organist. My Mother was very weak because she had just had surgery on her appendix.  She needed help getting up to direct the choir because she had stitches in her side. My Dad was the person that helped her. To make a long story a little bit shorter, here is the kicker… they have been together ever since. If it was not for music I would not be here.

My parents continued this tradition for quite some time. When I was small, probably even younger than my Son… my Mother would place my car seat on the organ or piano during choir practice. Because of this I had a great appreciation and love of music. When I was my Sons age I remember wanting to be like my Daddy. I in my diaper, complete with a tie around my neck… sat on the piano bench at home. Just like Daddy, I played the piano. Matching my voice to the tone of the note as I played.

Then when I was two, I knew the instrument of my choice was going to be the violin. I loved it! My arm would not reach around the neck of the violin so I had to wait until it did. The music store that my mother taught at did not have a size small enough for a two-year old. So finally when I was three. I got to play the instrument I always dreamed of. The violin.

I continued to have a love of music and throughout my Youth I played many musical instruments. Violin, Piano, Clarinet, saxophone, Trumpet, and my latest endeavor, the ukulele. I hope it is a tradition I can pass along to my son. A love of music.

If it was not for music, my son would not be here today. It was love of music that brought my husband and I together. I met my husband at work. One of the first times we hung out, we were at a party one of our coworkers had. There we were. He was playing Guitar and singing and I was singing the harmony.

On another Date, we were at a bar in Wellington, Ohio that had a piano. We were playing the piano at the bar and taking requests to play classic rock songs.

Our Son loves it when Daddy plays Guitar. He loves strumming the strings of his guitar and could since he was about five months old. Our Son is nearly 11 months old now.

We took our Son to two Jim Gill Concerts this week. One in Brunswick, Ohio and one in Valley City, Ohio. For those of you who do not know who Jim Gill is, He is a very talented musician with a good sense of humor. He has a musical life too. He writes his own music and weaves beautiful stories into his music. He is a local musician here in the Ohio area.

The first concert we arrived there early. We got the opportunity to talk to this very humble musician. He even allowed my husband to try out his guitar. Noah loved the music. He started clapping and jumping up and down and then got fussy the last part of the concert.

Noah got fussy at the second concert when he heard Jim play “Yesterday” by the Beatles.  It is this song that Daddy plays for him. Daddy’s at work right now and Noah starts screaming “Dada!” At least Grammie and Grampy got to go!

Here I am reminded that music without music I would not be here. My husband and I probably would not be married, and our Son would never have been born. I hope we can continue the tradition of sharing music and enjoying it in our family.

Freedom Is Not Free

My Son wildly claps his hands and says “Boom.. boom!” and he owhhs… and ahhhs… as we watch the fireworks from the balcony of our one bedroom apartment. Here I am reminded that freedom is not free and we are not done fighting for it yet.

How can you be free when your husband and you have to work two jobs each, and you are barely scraping by? How is this freedom when I’m lucky if I see my husband and our Son is lucky if he sees his father one day a week! No this is not freedom. This is prison. Freedom isn’t free. No not at all.

I hope someday that the world will be freed from all of this oppression. That people will love each other enough to work together to fix the global system that is broken and corrupt. People will stop using money and use their skills and barter. To become self-sufficient.  Rely on a system where we help each other instead of a system built on currency and numbers that are just punched in computers.

I hope someday I will be able to enjoy time with my family. That I am able to relax and I can live my life as I choose. That I can be free.

Never has there been a greater need for freedom. For a new beginning. For a chance to break the system, and build a new system that worked for thousands of years, before corrupt governments came and changed it. No Freedom isn’t free. We are not free yet. I hope I am able to be there when the system collapses and we can rebuild something based on love.

My Son says “oowhh…Ahhhh…” I look at him and say “Yes, we still have a long way to go… we still have a long way to go.”

The Best Birthday

I celebrated my Birthday on July second. My Mom found some old pictures of me, blowing out candles on my birthday cake. The funny thing about being a Mother is, even the money that you get for your birthday, goes to your child. I was reminded of how many things my Mother went without, because she would rather my brother and I have those things. Here it is July second. It is my birthday. I have holes in my shoes, clothes that never fit right. The money I get for my Birthday goes to my Sons food and clothes. I even had some extra to get him a new book. Here I am dressed like a bag lady. Because I refuse to let my child have anything less than what I had growing up. Because yes, on my Birthday, my Son deserves the very best. All those years I never realized how much my Parents struggled. They did without too. I don’t want Noah to worry. Worry that maybe next month we will have to move because our rent went up again. That we can barely afford to live in this one bedroom apartment. So on my Birthday, I am thankful for my Mother and Father. For always giving me the best Birthday possible. I will do the same for my Son.

Love Birds Cry

I found some old poetry I wrote. I wrote this while I was in an abusive relationship that lasted on and off for seven years. I wrote this shortly before I left the abuser and found my husband. I guess when you pray real hard and hope that Mr. Right is out there, you find him. For all those women that are in an abusive relationship. I once was you. Please let go. There is a better person waiting out there for you.

Love Birds Cry
I’m like a bird that crys for help,
with no one to save me.
I’m exotic.
I’m used and abused,
then throwen away when I am no longer useful anymore.
I’m a rare and beautiful sight to behold,
but not something that can be loved and adored.
I’m shot at,
day after day because some man wants me for his trophy case.
Then I fly away.
Someday.
Someday soon,
some beautiful love bird will catch me.
Someone that will love and adore me,
cherish and hold me.
Forever and always.
The men that hurt me,
will fade slowly,
untill they disappear.
Into the forest.
A dark forest filled with nothing but
pain, hurt, loneliness, that will last forever.
As I am living my beautiful dream.
With a love that will last an eternity.

The Birth of a Father

Happy Fathers Day!!! To my Dad and to My Husband. As well as all those other Fathers out there!

Snapshots of a Life

   Becoming a Father is a series of miraculous events. The father expectantly waits for the arrival of a child. Expectantly means watchfully waiting. Fathers are watchfully waiting from the very moment that baby is conceived. They are watching creation take place right before there eyes. Fathers are waiting for life to happen. Then it does. Out of love, life is born. This is one of the most important events in a mans life.

The Father becomes expectant again. He is watchfully waiting. He is watching his child grow, waiting for them to take their first step, waiting for their first birthday, graduate high school, and then college. Then they meet somone. Someone they want to spend the rest of their life with. They begin waiting for the marriage of their daughter.

My Father who I have always called Dad is singing a beautiful song “Borning Cry.” He sang it…

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The Birth of a Father

   Becoming a Father is a series of miraculous events. The father expectantly waits for the arrival of a child. Expectantly means watchfully waiting. Fathers are watchfully waiting from the very moment that baby is conceived. They are watching creation take place right before their eyes. Fathers are waiting for life to happen. Then it does. Out of love, life is born. This is one of the most important events in a mans life.

The Father becomes expectant again. He is watchfully waiting. He is watching his child grow, waiting for them to take their first step, waiting for their first birthday, graduate high school, and then college. Then they meet someone. Someone they want to spend the rest of their life with. They begin waiting for the marriage of their daughter.

My Father who I have always called Dad is singing a beautiful song “Borning Cry.” He sang it right before he came to walk me down the aisle. I hear him cry as he sings the last line “to see your life unfold.” I start to cry too. This was the same song he sang at my Baptism. The day I was born to the Father in heaven. The doors open and My Father and I walk into the sanctuary. He gives me to my Husband.

My Husband is expectantly waiting too. As I am standing at the Alter, my little son is kicking the inside of my stomach wildly. I am six moths pregnant now, He can probably feel how nervous I am. As we say our vows, my Husband starts to tear up. Then we are made Husband and wife. We are made a family.

At the reception my Father and I dance. I notice my father is starting to look older, he now has gray hair. I had never noticed it before. Probably because he is my Dad. When we are younger we think our Dads will always be here. So we never see they are ageing. Then I am scared. I  don’t want to ever have to live without him. He is one of the first people who ever held me. One of the first people that loved me. I love him. I am thankful my Dad is still here. That he is able to share this special moment with me.

A few months later, My Husband and My Father are expectantly waiting. My Husband, the birth of His First Child. My Father, the birth of his First Grandchild. He was two weeks overdue, so I was induced. After 77 and 1/2  hours of labor, his head started to crown. My Husband started to shout excitedly “He has a full head of hair! Oh my God this is so cool! Push…!! Pushpushpush!” My Dad and My Father-In-Law were listening to all of this happen, downstairs from a cell phone that was on next to me on a bedside table. After a half hour of pushing He was born.

Expectantness begins again. This time it is my Husband. He is watchfully waiting for his son to grow up.

Life is a series of events where Fathers are Expectant. They watchfully wait, for the culmination of an event to happen. They reinvent themselves, and are born all over again.

I thank My Dad and My Husband for always being Expectant Fathers, and to all other Fathers that are Expectantly waiting.