Month: February 2016

My Blog

Nothing you can say can tear me away from MY blog, my blog, Nothing you can do cuz Im stuck like glue to My blog. I may not be a movie star but when it come to being happy, I “are?”

Just thinking last night how lucky I am in so many ways. The thought process began as I attended yet another wake of a good acquaintance (friend). These thoughts are in memory of Marcial Palomo, A very good man, Father husband, grandfather, teacher, friend. Safe travels to the next Adventure to another dimension !

What is that happens when one goes to the Doctor for one thing and suddenly is given a diagnosis of 3 months to live. How is it you can be out with your friend, see him, enjoy laughter, a few drinks nothing is different, then after the diagnosis, everything moves fast and no one is the same, particularly the patient.I cannot fathom what happens when you are faced with your own mortality . I only know from a distance what I have witnessed with my won Mom, Dad, and Bother. there is a silence that falls over them as if they are hearing and seeing something we cannot. I think its something that cannot be expressed and so it is one of the great mysteries that I wish I could unravel before it  happens to me.

One month, about 30 days going from his regular life to hospice and then a  memorial service. We waited in a line a few blocks long and even as we got closer to the family to share our sympathy the line continued to be very long. A great testament to a man who touched so many lives. Yet if you had met him, saw him, you would not pay particular attention to him. He was a quiet man who enjoyed a simple God-given world. His wife, his family, fishing, Grandbabies and long friendships.

I shared, joked that I didn’t even know that many people. all the Picture boards of a full life. Hmm I told my husband our kids would have difficulty when we passed because no one prints or saves pictures anymore. Everything is on the cloud, the iPhone or tablet . 

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I am not one of those people who tells a surviving spouse or family member  “He’s in a better place” in fact I dislike that saying. I remember people saying that when my Mom died, when my Dad died, in fact someone is always saying that bullshit. oops, I can’t help myself. but seriously, what could be better than being here in your own surroundings with your family , on earth. I have religion, I understand we were not born to live forever, but a better place.  A different place, I can understand but a better place, I don’t think so.

Why this ..why now?

So it seems that I have been thinking about writing for a long time, and the encouragement of my oldest Daughter has brought me to this space. I want to leave some of my life stories for my family and friends so they can better understand me. The decisions I continue to make, my crazy outlook, why I laugh when most would cry.

I think I’ll start with the most shameful part of my story, well at least it was till I recognized and owned it.

I am a person who has a few very good, long time trusted friends.
This honor of friendship is usually easy ,after all during a persons school years, sports activities and parties, neighbors etc, you make many friends. For me and my siblings, it was not so easy. My parents were 18 years older than I. For many reasons which I’ll go into later, we moved once, twice sometimes three times a year, So me, the eldest child of Thomas O’Connor and Wanda Woods O’Connor attended more than 16 schools by eighth grade. No I was not an Army brat, nor were we traveling around the US but rather neighborhoods in Illinois and Indiana.

At one point I could name in order each school, and probably with some help could list them on my blog. Who knows someone may read it and say ” Hey I remember that girl”.

I was the perpetual “New Girl”. I did not have girlfriends, shopping dates, sleep overs or invitations to attend birthday parties. I was the one sitting alone, working alone, quiet and very private.

I remember how mortified I was when in Eighth grade, a lady from Public Aide came into my classroom with a box of clothes for me and my siblings. Talk about wanting to sink into the floor! I remember that parents were not eager for their children to play with me or invite me, understandable because they did not know me or my parents. In fact in 8th grade, the only year I went an entire year to the same school (Nathan Hale on Melvina) I lived on 64th and Kedzie. I walked 4 miles to school. Sometimes, when it was very cold, I took the bus  . the cost at that time was  12cents. That same  12 cents was sometimes used to buy a piece of italian bread soaked in gravy. The place on the corner near my grammar school of 63 Melvina was a family owned fast food restaurant. They gave me the bread for 5 cents. I was happy to have it. I still like meatless soaked Italian bread.

I must tell you that during this whole time I was happy, because I was in the same school, this was brand new to me. Even though I did not live in the neighborhood I could pretend that I was just like everyone else.

So I am not complaining as they say “you don’t know what you don’t know” but in fact this situation led to one of my best skills. I learned and still have an ability to sum up the personality and trustworthiness of  a person pretty accurately and fairly quickly. I had to learn this skill to survive my earliest school years.Thats another story .

Truth or Dare