Thought for the year:  Peace begins with a smile ~ Mother Teresa

My New Year’s resolution for 2012 is to be happy.  That’s it.  No losing 10 pounds, no developing an exercise program, no getting a grip on my finances, no lofty career goals, no looking for true romance. I’m just going to focus completely on being happy. Doing what makes me happy, being with those who make me happy, concentrating solely on acquiring the positive energy that makes me happy. And I believe that as I seek happiness, that which I attain will include all the things that are beneficial for my well being.

2012 is a fine number. It’s even, it’s round, and it’s going to be my year. The negative energy that has made the past few years so difficult is behind me now. It’s gone.  It has left the building. I recently heard someone describe another person as one who had been so unhappy for so long that they had lost the ability to be happy. That will never be a description of me no matter what adversity comes my way.

I hope you’ll join me this year in searching out the positive and turning your back on the negative. Because life was not created to be something you withstand or muddle through.  It was created to be enjoyed.  I finally get that now. So, I am moving forward into this brand new year of hope and possibility smiling ~ beaming, in fact!

 Happy New Year!  Happy 2012! Flash your pizzazz ~ Smile!

It’s early Christmas morning, and the house is quiet.  Everyone is still asleep.  I’ve taken the dogs for their early morning walk – my Bella and “grand-dog” Lulu.  I’m alone with a cup of coffee, my prayers and devotionals. In a little while my girls and my brother will get up, and we’ll have our Christmas morning together. The girls will be wearing their matching pajamas, which I surprised them with, giving us all a good laugh. Matching pajamas were a tradition every Christmas as they grew up, and it’s been awhile. I am so blessed to have this precious time with them together this year. 

I needed some spiritual refreshment and was looking forward to going to Mass. But Christmas Eve Mass was a disappointment as holiday Masses usually are.  A ridiculous number of people crowded the church, and we were forced into a small side room where you could neither see nor hear anything that was going on. Although it was annoying for us and all the regulars, I know God was probably glad to see everyone. Besides, maybe the extraordinary abundance was just family visiting family. 

Three children of different ages took turns distracting us in the tiny room.  A rambunctious four-year-old girl in the pew directly in front of us alternated between tormenting her older brother, stomping her feet, talking loudly and feigning anger.  Her tired mother with sad eyes had no control over her. She seemed drained and seemed to have given up trying. An older couple was with them, I’m thinking her parents.  Where is her husband? Is she divorced?  Is he working the night shift or serving overseas?  I’ll never know.  Intermittently, a two-year-old girl in front of them squirmed and cried and rambled on loudly as her grandmother and parents doted on her without reprimanding her at all.  She, in turn, was distracted by a newborn infant in the pew in front of her. “Yook, daddy, Yook,” she tells her father.  “See the baby? I want a baby! Maybe Santa will bring me a baby tonight.” I couldn’t contain my laughter.  I know God is probably getting a kick out of all of this.

My daughter Megan lays her head on my shoulder, and I lay my head on hers. We stay that way for a long time.  Uncontrollable tears flow.  Soon she’ll return to Florida where she lives. I miss her so much already that my heart is aching. I look over at my other daughter Katie who smiles at me. When did they become such mature young women?  Wasn’t it only yesterday that they were those little girls in church?

Time passes much too quickly. I miss the days when they were little –  when each Christmas morning was a magical time filled with so much excitement and wonder. Things have changed – life has altered. Time and distance have become a circumstance of life. But my family is with me today, and I am grateful. I am blessed with this precious present of all of us being together to celebrate the birth of a loving Savior who keeps us close in heart and soul.

Katie and Megan

To you and yours, Merry Christmas!

Thought for the Day:  Carpe Diem

Every morning I take my exuberant yellow lab Bella for a walk along the grassy causeway down to the bay.  It is usually very early, sometimes even before the sun has risen. Most of the world is still fast asleep, and the silence enfolds me. The tall sea grasses rustle in the gentle breeze.  A lonely seagull flying above lets out a mournful wail. A foghorn groans in the distance.  A young deer scampers in and out of the brush while a cat perches on a mooring, intently stalking an invisible prey. I take a deep breath and fill my lungs with the cleansing coolness of the ocean air.  I can taste the salt on my tongue.

As I make my way to the bay, I thank God for a good night’s rest, if I’ve had one.  Otherwise, I thank Him for my cozy, warm bed and that the night is over. I thank Him for the people in my life and the love He’s blessed me with.  I tell Him my troubles and rattle off a litany of my doubts and fears.  A little while later my soul is satisfied and calmness overshadows the worries on my mind.

If I’m lucky enough and it’s early enough, I get to see the sun peak over the darkness of the water with a bright orange hue that paints the clouds a purpled pink.  I watch intently as it majestically rises from the water to take its place high in the sky. The rays stretch down like tentacles through the clouds, and I close my eyes, feeling the warmth upon my face. 

Searching the horizon to the right, I spy a glimpse of the Barnegat Bay lighthouse.  There it is – its beam of light guiding ships in and out of the inlet. On some foggy days, I can’t see it at all.  But then a shaft of light rotates over the water, and it’s comforting to know it is there doing what it is created to do.

A buzz from a motorboat of an early morning fisherman breaks the silence.  I watch as he maneuvers his boat over the foaming ripples to where he will cast his line for the morning catch.  I take another deep breath and gaze over the bay beholding its astounding beauty as the sunrays shimmer across the deep blue of the water.  The seagulls circle above, more boats go by, the lighthouse stands stoically in the distance and the cool sea breeze ruffles my hair. God is all around me.

As I reluctantly turn to head for home, I drink in the majesty of it all one more time. Walking in the other direction, if I’m lucky enough, I can see the outline of the night moon fading into the morning brightness of the sky.  It’s smiling down at me.  I turn down the road along a lagoon to the house and see a robin up on the telephone line and grin.  I don’t really understand why she would be in this area in December.

Most mornings I want to stay in bed as all of us do. Today I awoke with a headache and didn’t want to extract myself from my warm cocoon to brave the early morning chill.  But Bella beckoned me for our walk, and it’s my duty to take her out to do her doody.  As usual, I’m glad I did because now that I have returned, I am refreshed and renewed and ready to take on what the day beholds.

Thought for the Day:  Keep hopeful.

My spirits were low the other afternoon as I walked my dog Bella. Glancing up into a tree almost barren of leaves, I noticed a flock of robins flittering about.  Robins aren’t usually a bird you see this time of year. You’re more likely to spot a turkey or a turtledove, so I was pleasantly surprised. Instantly my mood lightened, filling my heart with expectation because to me they are symbolic of hope and good things to come in new seasons in life.

This sighting reminded me of something I had written one early spring day not too long ago:

As I pulled into my driveway that gloomy March evening after a particularly bad day at work, it came to mind that I hadn’t seen my first robin of spring.  Sighting that first robin each year was a ritual when I was growing up. As a kid, the hunt for the elusive, red-breasted bird began every January, even though it would be months until a sighting.  My mother was usually the first to see one and point it out.  “Look in the yard,” she would say as she peered excitedly out the window, “it’s the first robin of spring. No more winter – spring has sprung!”

Then I remembered the day I went into the hospital to give birth to my daughter Megan on February 27. I was feeling nervous and anxious until I glanced down and saw my first little robin of spring, picking at the ground outside of the hospital door.  It seemed way too early to see one, but it filled me with hope and calmed my fear of giving birth.  It gave me the strength I needed to deliver my beautiful baby.

So on that cold, dank evening of unusual glumness, all I could think about was retreating to an early bedtime.  It was just as well with the “woe is me” attitude I was harboring.  Tomorrow’s another day, I thought.  “Thank you, Lord, for helping me through a rough one,” was the only prayer I could whisper before I feel asleep.

The next morning I lifted the blinds in my bedroom and glanced out onto the front lawn in disbelief. I saw not one but a whole flock of robins!  Never had I seen so many together at one time.  Spring had sprung, and hope was in the air once more.

When those bad days come along as they always do, keep your bird-watching binoculars focused because that red, red robin will come bob, bob, bobbing along before you know it.

Measurement of a truly rich life is not attained from inanimate objects, expensive trinkets, career success or position in the community. Riches are made out of flesh and blood, hearts that pulse and souls that faithfully surround you with love.

So on this Thanksgiving I would like to take the liberty to express my thankfulness for each of my blessings and to God for providing every one of them. I am truly blessed.

For faith in my generous, loving God Who sees me through every challenge and joy, providing all that I need and always in His perfect timing.

For my daughters Katie and Megan, who have taught me how to be a mother, who love and encourage me and make my heart gush with pride at the women they’ve become.  They are the reason why my life has meaning.

For my wonderful brother Ken, a kind and generous soul, who is always there for me, going over and above the threshold of true giving and caring.

For my sons-in-law to be Blake and Matt – there are no finer gentlemen and husbands for my daughters then them.

For my dear Aunt Joan who is my hero, showering me with love and kindness, and demonstrating how to live your life your way.

For so many friends who push me through to the next day with their love and encouragement.

For my band of pets who take turns providing laughter and entertainment in this three-ring circus called my life.

For food to eat, clothes to wear and a safe, warm place to live.

For the opportunity to serve others who need a hand up.

For the gift of spending time with my family on this special day.

For holding close in my heart those who live too far to be with me.

For those who have passed…Mom and Dad who raised me to be a woman with a soft heart and a strong will.  Aunt Vi, my generous godmother, who always kept me laughing, toasting every Thanksgiving Day with a pretty strong egg nog and gravy so thick it ate like a meal. Mr. Murphy, my mentor and lifelong friend – always and forever in my heart. For Bob who treated me like a daughter from the very start. My grandparents, aunts, uncles and friends who will never be forgotten.

 Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!