Letters I've Written...

I have often imagined seeing you again...there is so much I wanted to say to you. And yet when you surprised me at work a few years back, I was so giddy and nervous I am sure every word that I uttered made me sound like a complete fool. There are some that would argue that I am a fool...and I would offer no defense. It is safe to say that I have disappointed every one I have ever known. You were everything I ever wanted...everything I ever needed. But you had one fatal flaw...my Mother's approval. The kiss of death for a sheltered 16 year old Catholic school girl just discovering her first taste of freedom. I still remember the smell of your skin when you were bending close to me during our guitar lessons...your shy,nervous, sweet smile. But you confused me. You weren't like the other guys I dated... It's funny how mothers and daughters and fathers and sons dance with each other through the teen years. The sudden shift in power makes it hard to say who will lead and who will follow...they can't even decide on the band! As I turned away from her, I turned away from you. I was young, impetuous, headstrong...and dead wrong! In my eagerness to start the race I stumbled coming out of the gate and not only lost my footing, but my direction as well. By the time I realized my mistake it was too late. When I called you to let you know of my plans you asked me a very pointed question. I hesitated in my reply because I knew what it would mean to you. In the silence that followed I prayed that you would assure me that it wouldn't matter...that you still loved me. Your answer devastated me as much as my confession devastated you. Faced with my worst fears confirmed, I felt I had to settle for what I deserved. (if it's any consolation...Karma has not been kind) By the grace of God, I have survived my clumsy attempts at life and love. I would like to think I am stronger and smarter now but I think we all know that I will continue to make mistakes until the day I die. One mistake I don't want to make is to let one more day go by without letting you know what you have meant to me and how sorry I am for hurting you. One more thing...you gave me this album...you know the rest of the song. :-)

Turn the Page

Life is marked by a series of mileposts. Some are anticipated, like a highway exit sign on a map...some are approached with dread like the flashing yellow lights of a construction zone. But some are unexpected , slightly intriguing , yet compellingly curious like the handwritten, slightly askew promise of sweet corn or fresh picked strawberries up ahead on the left.

Everyone expects the obvious passage of time...birthdays, graduations, marriages, children, grandchildren. The kinds of events Hallmark banks on. Most everyone accepts life's more challenging sojourns...the first gray hair, the aching back, the eyeglasses and hearing aids. But it's the curve balls that brush us back from the plate that make us pause and take a good look around. And the thing is...you never see them coming...yet if you're not paying attention you're likely to get beaned.

The city where I was born and raised holds an annual International Village. A chance to catch up with family and friends and enjoy homemade ethnic food with a backdrop of old world dance and music. I attended this year with most of my children and grandchildren. We set out in different directions to sample our favorite foods and meet up to watch the dancers perform. (mostly to take turns keeping an eye on Brian since he plants himself center stage and waits for us to serve him) We have been doing this for years. I know exactly where each of my children will head...what foods they seek. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't know what my children want or favor? When it was my turn I headed straight for what I love but can't make myself (being of Italian heritage, Polish food is not exactly my forte) As I was helping Brian with his traditional roast beef sandwich (I swear he would be happier if we stopped at McDonalds on our way to the park...he's only there to watch "the dancing girls") I noticed my daughter had picked up my bowl of pierogies (spell check doesn't recognize the word pierogie LOL) I'm thinking she wanted some since she's cutting them into bite sized pieces.

"Take what you want" I say.
"Oh I don't want any. I'm just cutting them for you and taking off the onions cause I know you don't like them" she says.
"oh thanks"...wait...what???


I don't remember taking any exits but suddenly this highway is unfamiliar. How did we get here? Who has the map? More importantly when did I stop driving and start riding shotgun?

At least if we're stopping for strawberries I know Erin will cut them for me :-)

Till You Come Back To Me Again

After mass this morning, I was talking to someone from the "old neighborhood". He knew I was "one of the Strangis girls" (if I had a nickel for every time I heard that I'd be rich). My grandson was by my side...my daughter and granddaughter off to corral Brian (he has developed a habit of kneeling before Fr. Vince in the vestibule after mass reminiscent the scene of Maria kneeling before Mother Superior in the Sound of Music *sigh*) When comparing families, I introduced Nicholas and told my old friend I had 4 children and 2 grandchildren. Nicholas immediately tugged my arm and said "Nana, you have 3 grandchildren"

Last week, my grandaughter informed me I can no longer call her "angel" like I have since she was born. "Nana, my brother is an angel. I'm not an angel."

These children...so innocent...yet so wise. To Nicholas, who is eight, his brother is real. He existed...he has a name. To Keegan, who is five, her brother still exists, watching over her from heaven. They both speak of Joshua as a cherished brother. A brother they never got to see...yet one they will never forget.

We held a funeral mass for Joshua this past Friday. Family and friends gathered to celebrate the life of a beautiful soul who was born to die. He was loved the instant he came into being...not only by his family, but by God Himself. No less so than if he had been full term...no less so than if he had lived for years.

God tells us he knows us before we are knitted in our mother's womb. That is a powerful thought. We are known to Him, even if others forget us. We matter to God even if it seems we don't matter to anyone else. There is a place for us at His table even if others reject us. We not only exist, but we are exalted even if unseen by others in the womb. It makes no difference if we are 90 years old or 90 seconds old, we ARE SOMEONE to God! A life to be celebrated!

I am ashamed of my answer to my old friend. Never again will I forget the life that lives for all eternity in the arms of our Lord...my precious grandson. I have 3 grandchildren...Nicholas, Keegan, and Joshua. My love for them will never end.

And to my dear daughter and son-in-law...I know your grief has been magnified by the fact that there are some who have been insensitive to your suffering. There have been some who have not recognized that, although brief on this earth, Joshua lived...and he will live forever. I ,too, have been disappointed by some. All I can say is forgive them...they don't understand. And if that is hard to do right now...just remember, there is an angel up in heaven who already has.

Don't Ask Me Why

I have had this blog for over 5 years now. Not much to show for it though. You have no idea how many times I sit at this computer and just stare at the screen...waiting for the war of words raging in my head to spill out onto the keyboard. I have come to one conclusion...that ain't gonna happen. It's not like I don't have anything to say...it's just that as soon as my thoughts are poured out like concrete I realize they don't have much merit. Once set though, it takes a jack hammer to undo all the damage.

Lately, everything I thought I knew or believed in has been turned upside down. Of course, that's not exactly news. My life is constantly proving me wrong. All my starts and stops have left me dizzy. Every bad decision...every turn for the worse...every dark night of the soul can either lead to despair or enlightenment. But what about all those times you feel you've finally gotten this whole life thing figured out? When all the pieces of the puzzle seem to fit...when you are ready to pour the puzzle glue and put that masterpiece in a frame...then...wait...that's not right...it looks like it fits, but the picture isn't quite right? Then what?

I always believed in God...practiced my religion...said my prayers...read the great spiritual writings of many blessed and learned saints. But I never quite "felt" a connection to God. I always thought I was doing something wrong. It was deeply disappointing. Two recent events however have left me wondering how I could have ever been so blind.

The first encounter was so unexpected and so real I know the following words will not do it justice. I was reading...starting to doze off. I put my book down and my mind began drifting...I was actually thinking about taking a trip to Ikea for some fabric to make curtains for my bedroom. Suddenly there before me was my mother...with the most beautiful and joyful smile on her face...holding a baby in her arms.. In the instant that she came...she left. What was that??? I'm not one to even think of "contacting" the dead...I didn't (and still don't) believe in that. It was so intense though that I immediately called my son to see if he was keeping any news from me ( I swear that boy won't think twice when it's time to commit me LOL) He assured me that,yes, I was indeed crazy...and ,no, Suki was not pregnant. Okay...

A few days later I attended a healing service at the Motherhouse of a local community of Sisters. I was going to pray for my daughter who was having some health issues...and for my grandson. When it came my turn to approach the altar...without any effort on my part...my mind went to something in my past that I had long since buried. The priest...who has no idea what you are praying for as it is a silent prayer..usually just places his hands on your head and blesses you then turns to the next person. His hands were so warm...much warmer than normal body temperature. He turned away from me...then hesitated...turned back toward me just staring at me for a second as if he were listening to someone. He touched my elbow at first then pulled me into an embrace that defies all description...so warm and gentle...all without saying a word to me. He then turned and continued on down the line. I was the only one he engaged like that.

As it turned out...a few weeks later my daughter surprised me with the good news. So it was her baby my mother was showing me! Almost immediately though, she developed complications...serious ones. My sisters and I started a novena to Saint Anne...my father lit candles and prayed before the Blessed Sacrament. She showed signs of improvement...in fact so much so that the doctor took her off bedrest and allowed her to return to work. Hallelujah! Our prayers were answered.

Oh what fools we mortals be...

On her second day back to work, my daughter called me hysterical...her water had broken. This can't be! She's only 20 weeks!! What about the novenas...what about the prayers before the living Jesus...what about my mother's visit????? This isn't funny God!

If I lay here...if I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

All that I am, all that I've ever been
A tear in your perfect eyes
They're all I can see
I don't know where
Confused about how as well
Just know that these things
Will never change for us at all

I was embraced by God...I have no doubt. My Mother was telling me Joshua is safely enthroned in heaven...I have no doubt. Just don't ask me why.

Show Me A Garden

When tragedy strikes, as it most assuredly will at some point in our lives, most people react with disbelief. "How could this possibly happen? I followed all the rules...I am a good person...I believe in God"...etc. Some people demand answers. "It's the doctor's fault...it's society's fault...it's God's fault"...etc. A few even imagine themselves as having the answers already. "You brought this on yourself...it's better this way...God wanted it this way"...etc. Somethings, however, we may never know this side of heaven. As it should be.

I think there is a reason God's plan for our redemption played out partly in a garden. As Jesus poured out his blood as tears in the Garden of Gethsemane, watering the rocky soil of our hardened hearts, He anticipated the beauty and bounty of the flowers that would bloom in the hearts of those who trusted in God for their comfort.

There are those who scoff at this idea...who say they cannot...will not...believe in a God who allows such suffering. Imagine, though, a flower sitting in the sun. No clouds to darken the day, no rain to pelt the soft delicate petals. The warm sun and gentle breezes makes one lazy day drift into the next. Bliss you say? To some maybe. But after too many days of fair weather, the sun, which once gave warmth, now begins to scorch. The lack of rain now has sapped the plant of life...and that gentle breeze blows the dusty remains away. Gone for all eternity.

Our souls are like that long ago garden...the soil might no longer be hardened and rocky, but it is still muddy with doubt and despair. We sow that soil with the seeds of our sorrows. We water it with our tears. We wait,in faith,for the flowers to emerge. And as that tiny sprout breaks free from it's grave and seeks the source of life itself, it grows in beauty and gives hope to the promise that God has given...that no tear is ever unnoticed...or wasted.

A tiny seed has been planted in our family garden. In faith, he has been planted in the Lord. In faith, he will blossom with the Lord. In faith, I believe the yellow rose and the fair white lily grace the fields of heaven awaiting our time to join them.

Rest in Peace and may the perpetual light of Christ shine upon them.


Shirley Dean Strangis 11/24/35-11/6/09

Joshua Joseph Kurta 02/22/11