IT'S JUST ANOTHER DAY

A blog about a life awakened and rejuvenated around Western New York.


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A DAY IN THE LIFE: AN OPEN LETTER TO BROOKLYN ARIEL

My Darling and Most Precious Angel,

Your name is Brooklyn Ariel and you’ve finally arrived, brought into this world on June 3rd of the year, 2019. This was a day that your “Poppi” had anticipated for some time. Not specifically Jun 3rd, but the day that you would join us. You are very small and won’t understand these words for a while, but I hope you will get the chance to and hopefully cherish their intent.

You were born a special little girl. Your Mommy and Daddy love you very much and they have been blessed with the greatest gift ever. You! And in that, you received a wonderful gift in having them as your parents, parent that wanted you and cared enough to have you. The gift of you keeps paying forward as you are also a blessing to your Grandparents, Grandma Jan and me, “Poppi”; G.G. and Grandpa Michael, Aunt Dre (Andrea) and Uncle Joshua, and a lot of cousins. Even your furry friends are happy you are here. Guinness and Marvel and Roman have taken on the job of watching over you and protecting you.

I can tell you as your “Poppi” that I cried when I heard you were born. They were not sad tears in the least. The birth of you is the happiest day of my life in a long string of happy days that I have seen. So, understand that happy tears are the best thing you could have.

In this short week of your life (as of today, June 10th), you have been an incredible joy and a reason to awaken each morning with a glow in my heart and the hope of seeing your beautiful face, your warm “smile” (even if it is gas), and the gentle sounds that come from deep within you. All of that stems from a contentment that you seem to display every day.

But, as your grandfather – your Mommy’s dad – your “Poppi”, let me offer my hopeful thoughts to you for your growth…

…I wish you could know right now how completely loved you are. There is no greater gift than that. I know one day you will understand this, but for now I hope you can bask in its glow.

…I hope to teach you as much as I can from this store of “knowledge” available to me. Know that “Poppi” is not the smartest guy in the world, but he knows enough to get by! I will try to help you see the promise of each new day, and the beauty of every sunset that graces your days. Whether in the sights they provide or in the words that describe them in the most poetic of ways, I hope you will find the hand of God in everything you witness. I promise to help you.

…I want you to know the music in the world around you. And the music in your very soul. Music is important. It will help you express your joy. It will help you understand your sorrows. It will ease your fears. Music will even make you happy for no reason other that just hearing it. And it will make you dance. Dance and music go together like Brooklyn and Poppi. You are my music. If I have the chance, I will teach you how to play music so you will never be without it. We’ll find your unique song (we each have one inside us) and we’ll dance to that too! And you’ll know the Beatles!

…I hope you never lose sight of who you are and where you’ve come from. It is nice to have nice things. But they will not make your life any better, only flashier. Your imagination will serve you well as long as you don’t get fooled into thinking you were meant to be something or someone you are not. Do not place more value on material things than you do on the people around you. They are your true wealth. They will make you rich in heart and mind, and that’s what is important! Be a good person. Be good to people. You are Brooklyn Ariel. Don’t forget it. And don’t get me wrong. It is ok to have nice things, if they are what you want and what you will work hard for. Things don’t come easily, but you’ll appreciate their worth when you work hard for them.

…Of all the gifts I can possibly give you, there is only one that truly matters; the only thing I can give you in great abundance. That is love. You are so loved, and will continue to be as long as I am able to be with you. Know that love will keep me with you no matter where I am. If given the choice of something of great expense or something as priceless as love, I hope you will know to choose love every time. In the end, love is worth so much more.

You are a beautiful little girl. You will grow to be everything you want to be and were meant to be. People will adore you for being the special person you are and will become. But not nearly as much as your Poppi does. Stay well, grow to be happy and love everything around you and you will be even more amazing than I already believe you are. I will forever carry you in my heart, Brooklyn.

 

With so much love,

Poppi


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HAPPY 80th BIRTHDAY, JOHN!

DCIM100MEDIAMy father-in-law John turned 80. A milestone for anyone. But the fact he has lasted this long is a testament to his constitution. John has advanced Parkinson’s Disease. He had his stomach removed 6 years ago due to cancer. He no longer walks. To say he’s getting the best care at the hands of my mother-in-law, would be a blatant lie. (And she know all about that!)

John exists. His mind is failing. And when we pause to celebrate a momentous occasion, we have to do it  by halves of the family. It is equally divided. Anyone who would read the details would be amazed by the ignorance. And I would be embarrassed  to tell it. According to the mother-in-law, there are the haves and have-nots! The ones who have husbands, and good law abiding kids, and do not live above their means, who are not on public assistance and are not even treated like daughters… blah, blah, blah. The obverse is true for the other two, grown women both at 48 and 52 respectively. Mommy still cares for them. One milks her for she its worth; the other is a horrendous bully. And listening to reason is not a strong suit she’s ever held.

But, I digress. John exists, and it’s sad that things couldn’t be better for the man, but he holds on to live by a precarious thread. And while he does, we still celebrate. Happy Birthday John, on your 80th Birthday.


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THEY GROW SO QUICKLY…

“Where are you going
My little one, little one
Where are you going
My baby, my own

Turn around and you’re two
Turn around and you’re four
Turn around and you’re a young girl
Going out of the door”

Harry Belafonte, Alan Greene & Malvina Reynolds wrote a song called TURN AROUND (a partial lyric above and below), and much like SUNRISE, SUNSET from Fiddler on the Roof, the songs lament the coming of age of the young lives with which we were entrusted as young parents.  We think, “How can they be growing older when we don’t seem to be doing so”. The sad truth is we all have and as our children become the young idealistic adults that we once were, we step aside and allow them to assume the reigns on this life.

AndmeliTwo week from today, my oldest daughter will walk down the aisle (with her old man in tow) and start a new phase of her life with a young man who adores her as much as her mother and I do. A touch of sadness will undoubtedly slip in, knowing that our “little one” is no longer little. But she has earned her happiness, making her mother and I extremely proud. and we are comforted knowing we did the best we could by her and it shows.

However, before we reach that pinnacle, we celebrate the birthday of our youngest daughter as she turns twenty today. Seven years younger than her older sister, she is stepping into very comfortable shoes. She remains a bit more hard edged than her sibling, but her values and attitude mirror her sister almost exactly. She will be the Maid of Honor for the wedding, and it warms our hearts that the bond these two share is as close and loving as any two sisters can be. They’ve had their differences, but settle them with understanding and compassion. These are two good girls…er, fine young women we have raised.

“Turn around and you’re tiny
Turn around and you’re grown
Turn around and you’re a young wife
With babes of your own

Turn around, turn around
Turn around and you’re a young wife
With babes of your own”

They grow so quickly, don’t they?
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