Family Matters

31 Jan 2015 Leave a comment

by Laura in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , ,

People talk about family trees and study their branches and their leaves. Lately I’ve been thinking about family roots, strong, sturdy and grounded deep within rich, nourishing soil. These roots supported each tree in my bloodline, those that lived long and strong with rings that counted more than 95 years and those that were felled in the greener days of their youth. I grew up with a landscape of trees surrounding me, thanks to my grandparents and their 14 children. At home were my mother, father and sister and nearby were aunts and uncles and their spouses and the many cousins born into my generation.

There were mighty oaks in my bloodline; I only needed to glance at them to feel safe. There were willows that showed me how to lean into change and accept life’s mysteries. There were other trees, one who coaxed out my talents and passions, one who made me feel special by simply calling me “Dolly,” one who made me proud when she called me the daughter she never had. We were all nurtured by the company of our family, whether at Sunday dinners or during the summers we shared down the Jersey shore. My family taught me about love in more ways than I can count and for this, I’m forever grateful.

In my mind’s eye, I’d often imagine sitting on a carpet of pine needles, surrounded by the landscape of my family trees. Now, so many years later, my mind sees a forest so barren that my eyes wander easily to the horizon, to the unknown that waits for me there. They say a family gives you wings, as well as roots, but these days my wings feel too heavy to lift me, damp as they are with my tears.

I’m sure spirits live forever and the love that I’ve shared with my family is eternal. My life has taught me that when I need strength most, it can come from the departed and the pieces of them that reside within me. I’ve experienced grief so often I know it’s twists and turns all too well. I know this weightless feeling will pass and I’ll become grounded again in my own life’s journey. But today, the endless horizon stretches so far before me that I’m not sure if I can take the first step.

Dedicated to my mother, Linda Ciccarelli Sanno.

Road Trip!

24 Aug 2014 Leave a comment

by Laura in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

A dark cloud of sadness can descend when we least expect it or it can envelope us during a time of suffering that traditionally produces a heavy heart. Although it is often a joyous revelation or a sunny spark of gratitude that makes us seekers, foul weather is often the ideal time to start a spiritual journey. The dark secrets and whispered utterings of a bruised soul are more readily seen, explored and understood during these times. Ancient and frightening memories hidden in the corners and crags of the brain are brought into the light, where they’re less powerful and can be challenged by a brave spirit. Like so many things that would be of service to our deep and often fragile selves, if we wait for optimal conditions before staring a spiritual journey we may miss a golden opportunity for growth. Or, even worse, we might never step on the path that can lead us to healing and happiness and the love we all deserve to find for ourselves, within ourselves. If the spirit nudges you, take a chance! Put on you galoshes or your sunscreen, pick a bunch of flowers or squish through the muddy places you discover. It’s never a bad time for an inner road trip!

image

Let Me See

17 Jun 2014 4 Comments

by Laura in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

When I find myself in times of sadness,
The quiet mind brings tears to me.
I’m waiting for the lesson,
Let me see…

And though we may be parted,
In so many ways, you’re here with me.
Help my through my sorrow,
Set me free…

Let me see,
Set me free.
Let me see,
Set me free.

There’s wholeness deep within me.
Let me see.

Image

 

(Thanks, PM.)

For Myself

14 Jun 2014 2 Comments

by Laura in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I can’t take care of

You

Anymore.

My wounds are bleeding and

I need to care for

Myself.

Gone

30 Apr 2014 Leave a comment

by Laura in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , ,

I opened my Facebook page, intending to read something amusing to my mother, who was on the phone with me from her hospital bed. “Oh! I said, “There’s a message…But I’m not sure who it’s from.” To which my mother replied, “Go ahead and read it.” So I did.

The message was brief, with no slow build-up to its content, no easing me into the words I was about to read. There was only an “I’m sorry” and a misspelled word that jumped out at me, before I read the whole sentence. It said, “Shari was kill in a motorcycle accident.” I furrowed my brow and read it again. And then I slumped backward, shrieking and shaking and crying, still holding onto the phone as my mother asked, “What happened?” She asked again and then pleaded for an answer, until I finally heard her, when she yelled out the words. I forced myself to sit still, took a deep breath and said slowly, with precise diction, “Shari has died.” Then I said I had to go.

The next twenty minutes were lost to the kind of cry that’s come over me only once before, on the day my father died. I had been by his side when he took his last breath and remember driving away from the hospital, as the clouds changed shape and the colors around me bled and for a moment I thought, “Is this a flashback?” I knew it wasn’t, as sure as I knew I just needed to make it home. I drove carefully, gripping the steering wheel tightly, because that wheel was the only thing holding me upright.

When I finally reached my driveway and turned off the engine, I made it out of my car, into the back door, past the cat in the kitchen and onto the living room rug, where my legs buckled beneath me and I crashed to my knees, hands and forehead. Sounds came out of me that I never knew existed, sounds I was making that were beyond my control. A howling, a bleating, a wrenching cry from deep inside me; it was so powerful my torso rolled on its current. I remember I thought briefly, “What will the neighbors think?” But even if I cared, there was nothing I could do. I surrendered to my sorrow and my aching agony, until I was finally still and whimpering and totally exhausted.

It’s been a few evenings since I read that brief message. I’m calm, now. And numb. And I know I need time. I’m being gentle with myself, putting one foot in front of the other, hour by hour, day by day. I make progress, but then I’ll trip over a memory and begin crying again, holding onto whatever’s nearby for support. My history with Shari stretches back for decades, so there are many reminders and they’re everywhere. They’re in the vase on my dresser, in the cupboard with my flowers petals, in a photo on my refrigerator, in the scent on my skin. But Shari’s not here, anymore, she’s gone. And I just want her back.

Lost

30 Apr 2014 8 Comments

by Laura in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Please send me your comfort, and send prayers up to heaven. I’ve lost one of the best friends in my life. She taught me so very much, about love and forgiveness. We shared secrets and dreams, tales about lovers and loss, we marveled at Mother Nature and turned her inspiration into craft. For years, we were each other’s soft place to fall. She loved me, unconditionally and I loved her right back. And man, did we laugh! I can still hear hers ringing… And her hugs? They were the best in the world. She radiated such goodness to those that knew her; I know I ‘m not the only one weeping tonight. You were always an angel, Shari, but now you have your wings. Don’t fly too far, yet. Linger and help us all through our loss.

Have We Met?

04 Apr 2014 4 Comments

by Laura in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Is it possible to say “Thank You!” and “You’re Welcome!” with just one sentence? Is it plausible for someone to give and receive in the same moment? Is it realistic to say you know someone, if you haven’t ever met? These questions and their answers (Yes! Yes! Yes!) prompted me to ponder being a reader, a writer and, most recently, a blogger.

If I had to squeeze all of my feelings about blogging into just one word, it would be gratitude. I am deeply grateful to “meet” you here in the WordPress community. Not just to “meet you,” as in “Hello, my name is Laura,” but to meet you during the invisible action that is communication in it’s purest form. It’s when I meet someone heart-to-heart, soul-to-soul in the wonderful, safe place trust has built, where I feel free to share the deepest parts of myself, knowing I’ll be received with kindness, free from judgement.

In these precious moments, I often discover that not only are my thoughts and experiences understood, but they are shared. To feel understood is one of the most precious gifts I ever receive; maybe my gratitude springs from our shared need to feel we “belong.” Whatever the reason, nothing comforts and inspires me more than knowing I’m not alone. It gives me the courage to move forward every day, no matter what challenge I may be facing. It fuels my intention to be of service to others, no matter how small or grand the gesture. It makes me love.

This life is filled with give and take, ups and downs, challenge and triumph. I have memories of carefree, childhood discoveries, tales of travel and adventures from my “glory days” and those joyous, life-changing events, like the birth of my beloved daughter. I’ve enjoyed the many simple pleasures we’re all blessed with from one year to the next. I also remember days when loss and grief seemed insurmountable, when depression stole my will and spirit and my recent years of illness, when I wondered if I’d ever be my “old self” again. Then came a cancer diagnosis and the frightening thought that I wouldn’t live another year. Luckily for me, that fear was short-lived; my cancer was caught in Stage One and I responded beautifully to my treatment protocol.

When faced with my own extinction, it wasn’t long before my priorities became crystal clear. I had plenty of time to reflect on my life story and to decide how I want to spend the next chapters. Plotting my intentions was quite simple; I said to myself, “I’ve always wanted to ____ ” and filled in the blank, over and over. I realized I wanted to write “in public” and decided a blog was the perfect place to do it. So, you are now part of my new chapter, where I share my stories and listen to yours as my heart overflows with gratitude. So, Thank you…You’re Welcome…It’s wonderful to meet you!

Dedicated to Anna Quindlen
For Living Out Loud and for helping me realize I have something to say.

I Have Survived!

05 Mar 2014 2 Comments

by Laura in My Journey Through Cancer Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Yesterday, my oncologist said, “You’re much too healthy to be hanging around doctors’ offices. See you in three months.” I shook his hand, hard, as our smiling eyes met. Then he turned and walked out of the office and into the rest of his day.

I pulled on my coat and began walking out of the office, twirling a scarf around my neck as I wove through the maze of rooms. The lab, the infusion room, the glass-walled reception area, all so familiar and now fading into the background. I flung the door open and the bright sun and freezing air stunned me. I jumped into my car and after slamming the door, I let out a joyous yelp. Within a few minutes the Grateful Dead tune, “Touch of Gray” began to play on the radio. I turned it way up, grinning ear-to-ear and sang all the way home, as happy tears bounced off the steering wheel. Sure, people looked at me when a red light stopped us, but I didn’t care. (My bumper sticker reads, “Driver Singing. Use Caution.”)

Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! To all my dear friends and family, thank you! To my doctors, nurses, care-givers and EMT’s, thank you! To each and every one of you who – without even knowing – lifted me up, thank you! To God, this magical universe and the warrior that revealed herself within me, thank you! To my beloved angels up above who hovered close and answered my prayers, thank you! I need words bigger than “Thank You,” but for now they’re all I’ve got.

There’s so much I want to say, but I’ve got the rest of my lifetime to do so. So for now, I’ll celebrate and toast my fellow survivors. I’m also praying for the cancer patients who are fighting back right now, with all the bravery and strength they can muster. And I’m remembering those who’ve lost the battle, because all the medicine, treatments, love and fighting spirit weren’t enough. I will say this: Life is a beautiful gift. So please, be grateful and live every precious day like you MEAN IT!