I HAVE NO TITLE... THE MOMENT IS WHAT IT IS.....

I bought this divine piece of art, while in Rome, in the Vatican, for my mother.

I could write pages on my stay there, and at the Vatican, but truly, since then, I  haven't had the quality of time, to actually devote to writing about what I would call, one of the most amazing experiences of my life!

I spent my 40th birthday in Italy, and my actual birthday on the Amalfi Coast. I still feel spell bound, 4 years later, at the enormity of it all, from my heritage, to my own individual life, here, with all of it's circumstances and dwellings.

This picture digs so incredibly deep inside of me, as were most of the images in the Vatican. It made the most profound impact on my soul, one that comes to me every night before closing my eyes.

When you start to approach the Vatican, if you have any sense of spiritual connection, and probably even if you didn't, you immediately begin to start thinking of your life, the whys and how's, God, and how incredibly gorgeous, and mysterious it all is, and how ever did we get the fine, fine  opportunity to be here, and to be able to witness such sacred ground.

The art work was just unexplainable. I was in a sheer state of awe the entire time, along with a neck ache from looking up at Michael Angelo's love making on the ceiling....... I can probably tell you that I have not quite digested that trip, and too, that when I go again, I want to be alone! 

 No talking, just complete and  utter absorption in something so grand. Why waste one minute talking about it or whoa-ing about it. I just want to commune with it and let is sink deep inside of me, as I know, that those  images carry my experiences, now, to date, and it hurts that I cannot find the words to express just what it all means to me. I will die, probably trying to express what this "mystery" is, how it dwells inside of me, and how it has molded and affected my entire existence, thus far, here, in this crazy land of "Oz".

When I saw this piece, I wanted it immediately!

I thought of my mother the entire time, for reasons 1 through a hundred. My mother was a divine, divine soul. There isn't anyone she didn't cradle in her arms, take in, care for, be it a dog, cat, duck, snake, someone caught in a storm, making them a "room" in our cellar so they could be warm and safe. Friends who's homes burnt to the ground came for shelter at our home. Friends who didn't have money to eat, or families to be with, stayed at our home. Friends who's parents were not kind, reveled in "Mrs. B's" home, where humble food was cooked, and a table full of brothers and sisters sat, amongst the craziness of their lives, we still, always sat a the dinner table, in good times, sad times, crazy times, turbulent times, and that is where we came together. Mom always said a prayer, or we passed it on to any one of us that felt like we could come forward to say grace about what our lives were like, how we were grateful, and to just say, "Thank God" for love, for our family and for sticking together.

To me, my mother was the epitome of compassion, of love, and of a heart that gave beyond her own means. We didn't have money, but one thing I always say, is that I was never short of love. Although I grew up without a father, present in our lives, my mother made damn sure that she would make up for any "loss" that I may have felt. Granted, without a dad around made for some hard knocks, but today, I stand alone, with a strength in my being, very independent, and hard working, making sure that my babies are fed, first and foremost, and that I am good "upstairs" with all of life's calamities that soar my way.

My mother was divine, and she taught me the greatest love that I cannot help but to share with any and everyone.

There is something so organic about a "divine love". Someone that loves without reason. Someone that genuinely loves because that is what comes so natural.

To cradle people in times of hardship, celebrating them in their triumphs, and allowing people to just be, no matter where they are, what it looks like, and to embrace all human beings, for the individuals that they are, and not separating yourself from them, even if it seems like you are living totally separate lives.

We were hated on our block for having a family of black friends at our home. My mother adored her friend and family and basically said F.........the neighborhood and anyone else that has anything to say. She never discriminated against anyone!!!!!!!

She welcomed every last kind of person in our home, and even if she didn't believe in certain lifestyles, or situations, she welcomed them, and stretched her abilities to see things from a different perspective, given her old fashioned way.

Veryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy grateful for her allowances and to love beyond ideas of what she thought was "right and wrong" and chose love and acceptance over anything, even if it hurt her!

My brother and I had friends with illness, incapacity's, retardation, slowness, major identity issues, and vulnerabilities that soared through the roof.

Mom would hang tight with our friends, and play a game of chess with them, cook for them, teach them how to make things, make pasta, make awesome meals, and share with them the possibilites, outside of their situations, but still was semi firm in, "but you can take out the trash, and dry a few dishes". Not trying to make any huge point or anything, but there was always something to make you work for, in a very rewarding way. I don't know one of my friends that left our house not feeling loved, fed, and with a teaching to boot.

After all, our house, WAS the neighborhood house, and mom was "Mrs. B, Gin, Ginny, Ma, and Mom to say the very least.

I never know what my blogs are going to be until I sit, and just put fingers to computer. I didn't know I would write about Mom tonight, and as I sit here remeniscing, tears in my eyes of a childhood with so, so many memories, definitly makes you sit back and go WOA! I mean, BIG TIME!

She didn't take sh........from anyone, especially my brothers friends who seemed so charming, and tried to woo her, but she was no dummy. She'd even say, "I got your number honey"......cute....but no cigar!! Now go to bed, empty the beer, and rest peacefully."I said........ empty the beer can", and they would totally respect her and say," Ok mom.......look............. EMPTY!!!

She gave a lot of allowances, but I look at it like, she allowed certain things to happen under her supervision, and it was better than the guys going out, and doing it somewhere else. The boys had a band and they converted the basement into a jam hall. On certain nights, mom would be home, playing chess upstairs, or doing her own thing, and Peter and Tommy would invite tons of friends over to party in the basement, get kegs of beer, and they had a stage set up. Tommy, base, Peter drums, and the other band members. Classic Rock, which remains my True Love of music to this day, was played in our basement, with a definite eclectic array of happenings. Mom gave way, and I swear, I stand by her rule of thumb. A certain allowance makes for safety and a bridge to walk on. Psychologically it takes the "fun" or mystery out of it, and then the kid has no interest in pursuing the "taboo" thing he was investigating to begin with.

I know for sure, that this will raise certain eyebrows, but as her kid, and as I know how I WAS as a kid, it worked. Allow me, and the granduer is gone.

Wild. I know! But really, the psychology is simple, if you really look at it.

All I  know is, that there was no shorteage of love in our house. We may not have had all of the luxuries that most families did, but then, really, I look at things, back then, and I go........WOW, back then, I thought I was missing things. Of course, I was a kid comparing myself with other kids, but really, honestly, when I look at my childhood, it was perfect, in all of it's imperfections!

My mother loved and adored me like nobodies business. I ate amazing, amazing, amazing authenic Italian cuisine, even if it just cost a dollar to make, it was exquisite, we had prayer, we had gratitude happening at our dinner table every single night, amongst the chaos, we shared a love outside of our differences with the 5 of us, we sat with friends in need, that no longer were in need, or feeling deprived of love, or food. We had a beautiful house, games to play with, siblings to share love and lifes journey with, we were taught manners, how to love and not be judgemental, how to serve humanity, how to serve "god", how to love everyone beyond appearances, how to cook like troopers, ( Italian troopers), how to LAUGH beyond any, any, any situation, how to be compassionate........I mean......the list goes on!!!!.

As a kid in the 7th grade, I may have thought that we were different, because I didn't have the newest clothes, or shoes, but man, oh man....... really.......I have been the most rich, rewarded child on the face of the earth.

And, might I ad, that my sister, who mothered me when mom was working 3 jobs to support us, made sure, that her baby sister had what was going on, in style and happening, to the best of her ability.

She took care of me.

She made sure of plenty, for me, in great detail, and I am utterly grateful for her stance in my life, then, and now!

Life brings on new and different challenges all of the time. New thoughts to approach, new ways of looking at things. They change all of the time!

I never think that once an idea is formed, it has to stay that way. I felt so many things yesterday that are different today.

I never want to stay so stuck in my own ideas that I will die with solid ideas of how I THOUGHT THINGS SHOULD GO.

I always want to remain humble, and open to understanding new ways in which I can be fresh, and more alive in a consciousness that, even if it doesn't fit my current ideas, it will allow me to brake through into a new way of understanding of others, my relationship with them and how to make it whole, so that come time for "lying in the hammock" of this life, I will not look back and go, " I wish I........ I shoulda.........and man.......why did I waste so much time on ...............

all of that, you see, is where my homework is.

I  have a "thesis" I am working on. It's called, "My Life".

I've lost pages. I've deleted  pages, I've cursed pages, I've cried at my written pages, that I want re-written.

Only I can re-write my own pages and make them what I want.

I have my regular work life, and.........THIS!

The..........THIS...............part, is my life!! My true life!

Work will always be work. And with the hope that someday, my inner desires, for expression, art and love, will parallel my days, and make clear, what this life really is about for me.

Until then, you and I have this tiny little blog, that maybe will reach a soul or two.

If not, it clears my conscious, and paves the way for me to do some sort of good in this world.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, to my Mother, for molding me into something that I am proud of waking up to everyday.

If for nothing else, you have done good, for this one particular soul, and that is good enough for me, in this crazy, crazy calamity of a life that I am so, so good in, for all reasons mentioned above.

I love you dear sweet soul. My Mother, my confidant, my best friend, my sister, divine mother, and too, my "daughter", who needed me to listen and talk to when she had no one else to turn to.

You will always, always, be my inspiration!

Thank  you for this beautiful life!

I love you!

Always.