The Candy Dish

When I was in High School, my best friend lived around the corner. I loved going to her house.  She was an only child, and that itself was fascinating to me. She didn't have to share a room, clothes, stuff... She had privacy, but yet she also always had her parents watching over her. Her parents were wonderful.

Our neighborhood, kind of had this unwritten rule, where all of the parents helped raising us... and discipline us. We were just as scared of them catching us be naughty as our own parents. I feel that I was very blessed in that we did have that kind of a neighborhood. I always felt that every one of the adults looked out for us, contributed to our growth and gave us an extra bit of love. I felt that if I needed something, rather it be a glass of water, or a bit of advice I got it from a number of these dear neighbors.

I guess, in a lot of ways, my parents were the cool parents. They were always the delightful parents.  From being headquarters of the neighborhood water fight, to just a fun place to hang out.  They also allowed kids to smoke at there house (my sister smoked & my parents rather her do it at home than in the streets sneaking..)so that also contributed to some hanging out there. My parents always had food to share with the neighborhood kids.  And always welcomed everyone.  My parents were there to listen and lend a helping hand.

Some of the neighbor kids, had the parents that were never home, and that was often a "fun" place to hand out. Some always had something to teach us.  And some were there to give us their valued opinions and advice.  Some were just there for us, and we felt safe.

When I think back, my best friend, she had the strict parents. Few were allowed to be there when a parent wasn't home (I did earn that trust with them).  Her parents, always had to know who, when, where, and why. It always annoyed my friend.  Especially, because I was chatty and often told too much to the parents. Her Dad was about the kindest and most handsome of the parents. While her Mom, I always thought she was Liz Taylor beauty mixed with just the smartest of all our parents... but also not here to be our friend rather than a parent. In which I later found myself following suit as I raised my daughters. Her Mom... definitely gets the blue ribbon in being a great Mom!

One of my favorite memories about going over to my best friends house, is that they had a candy dish.  Her Mom ALWAYS had a little something in it. ALWAYS. Not once do I remember it being empty. Also... I was always welcomed to have a piece or two.  There was something about that Candy Dish and it always having a little something for sharing that stuck to me.  I carried the memories into my own home and have always had a Candy Dish available for anyone to have a piece of heaven to devour. My girls grew up not necessarily craving candy as it was something always available.

Candy Dishes.  They say WELCOME! ENJOY! & FEEL COMFORT.  I rarely see them anymore.  Except at my house... and my dear best friends Mom's house♥

I hope to carry this tradition as long as I have a home and a Candy Dish to fill.

an apology

apology: An acknowledgment expressing regret or asking pardon for a fault or offense

 Monday was a difficult day.  More of a heavy heart day.  

I felt sadness for my Hospice patient's death. Not really for him as much as his beloved wife. This was my first "death", in Hospice Volunteering.  I knew it was going to happen.  I am glad I was able to assist in the family as far as giving respice care. I tried not to become too emotionally attached (yes I hear you snickering those who know me and my ability to get emotionally attached to everyone & everything). But, still it was sad to see the widow, of 62 years of blissful marriage, say good bye to her beloved.

I am sorry for the family's sadness.  For their loss.

I also attended a case conference for the student I work with at  ISD.  Of course I want what is best for this sweet child. I understand and appreciate all ISD has been able to do for this child. However, once again, I got myself emotionally attached and now, as it has been determined this child needs may be more than we can currently give, the child had to become a day student rather than residential, while we scramble to find ways to meet needs. At least until we are able to provide a more acceptable circumstances for the child. As I participated in this conference, I remembered to keep the child's best interest at heart, although I knew it may mean I may miss the child.  It broke my heart...especially hearing the family stress the child will be so broken hearted.

I am sorry for this situation. I am sorry it wasn't able to work out as many had hoped.

Later once I got off work, I checked my emails and ran across a message from my Sister.  We had both been to a high school reunion block party last Saturday.  Hubby & I left before my Sis & BIL.  Julie told me she ran into an old neighbor of ours. The Bully, that beat me up everyday for two years.  Apparently, this has been heavy in his heart for some time. He expressed to my sister, how regretful he is about the abuse he put me through. He told her, how he would tease me, wrestle me to the ground, and beat me up.

This boy was my age. We were friends, neighbors... then one day he started beating me up. Don't sit there & think, awe, his way of saying he liked you.  We were in the 6th and 7th grade.  He would stand on the bus turn to face me and say with a grin, "Time for your daily beating". I would try to get away. I would beg the bus driver to make him stop (whom rarely did... usually if it got rough he would tell the boy to wait wait till we were off the bus). My parents would confront his Mom (Dad was never available). My parents then tried to teach me to defend myself. {Thanks Dad~ I still remember some of those moves}. This Bully was odd. I would get beat up, once a day & the rest of the day he'd act like we were friends. He'd talk to me, played kick ball together with the neighborhood, we had school classes together, he once rescued a puppy a man was drowning in the nearby creek, and brought it to me, asking my Dad if I could have it... One day I was to be disciplined in class, for excessive chattering (imagine that..me?) and I was going to get paddled.. My Bully stood up, told the teacher, he would take my whacks. She let him.. As he walked by me, he said, Im the only one allowed to hit you.
We all knew everyone's business in my little neighborhood. Everyone knew that he & his brothers got beatings from a drunk Dad. But, I still didn't deserve to get the beatings from him.  And by the way... he only beat me up. No one else, Except maybe for those neighborhood boyhood scuffles. Few friends ever tried to make him stop. In fear they would become his target. My Sister, his brother, Bestie Mary, and a couple others would actually stop him...or he would avoid hitting me around them.
One day, he caught me cutting through a hidden shortcut to a friends house.  I was terrified as he threw me down and rather than punches, he choice to start touching me inappropriately.    This was different and I was scared. Some older boys heard me scream and came into action. They pulled him off, Picked me up, helped me straighten myself out and told me to run home. Im not sure exactly what they did to him, but he never touched me again. the beatings also stopped.
I could breathe again.

Back to Saturday evening, when he ran into Julie...he proceeded to take the next 10-15 minutes telling Sis to be sure to tell me that he is so very, very sorry for all the trouble he ever caused me. She assured him she'd let me know but he persistently kept on about how he had it hard with his dad being a drunk and beating him, and how the big kids on the block used to beat him up too, and how he just turned mean and took it out on me. She told me there were tears in his eyes and she know he wished he were talking to me instead of her.

I am glad he saw her instead of me.


I am glad he is apologetic.

Thirty years later... apology accepted. Thank you Jamie, I do appreciate it.


A weight has been lifted somehow from my heart. And I hope he can be at peace as well.


This apology came at a rather good time.  I hadn't thought of the nightmare of getting beat for a while, however, it does come to mind sometimes.  It is hard to understand why a scrawny girl would have to be the victim of such a thing. But, I am sure that it has helped mold me into the person I am.

The cheerleader of the Underdogs.
The nurturing Queen.
The Goddess of kindness

Ding Dong!

Russel from UP

"Quick Hide!" That would be me telling Sergio to take cover.  The Boy Scouts were in our neighborhood (again) collecting can goods.
Now, before you sneer and hiss us, let me set the stage:

Last weekend a couple of older folks (just a tad older than myself) were going door to door sticking the little flyers on our door handles. The Flyer stated that the Boy Scouts would be in our neighborhood (again) on Sunday (today) to collect can goods for the needy. To have them in a sack on the porch. The Woman was dressed similar to me (I was on my daily walk), but the Gentleman was one of these Boy Scout Leaders I imagine, because he was in that familiar uniform, shorts, scraf and all...ewe.  (Sorry, but that always hits me odd...I was a Brownie & a Girl Scout Leader & I did not choose to wear an adult uniform).What bugged me is as they walked house to house, and occasionally back to the truck that was creeping along with them. The driver was a young man, I don't know, I guess an Eagle Scout because well, he was at least old enough to drive. Why is he driving & Mom is walking door to door? Anyway, the Flyer, had given instructions. 

Why do they need to ring my doorbell?  

Ohhhh~ because I must have forgotten to leave my sack? No Sweetie, I am not giving away more groceries today...

 

You boys/men come too often. I mean come on! The little Boy Scouts, Cub Scouts, even Brownies & Girl Scouts that LIVE in my neighborhood, know me & know I support them when they come a knocking with cookies, popcorn, Christmas wreaths, and what nots. They were not knocking at my door. I got Creepy Older Scouts that I don't know and looked more like this guy. I know I sound like a Grinch. But I feel like our neighborhood has some neon sign pointing for everyone and anyone that has a charity to sell to come knocking on our doors. We are far from a wealthy neighborhood. Quite average.

So.. Hubby ran to the family room, and I watched peeking out the blinds as a kid taller than me, rang our bell. (Hello?  remember? No bag sitting on the porch. I'm not gonna answer and feel bad about not giving you our food.)

Gheez!

Geese Parade

The Easter parade I enjoyed today was not at church. Yes, we had our share of lovely ladies proudly wearing orchids and precious little ones in their Sunday best & Easter outfits. The church was overflowing with standing room only (and this was the fourth service of the day). It is rewarding and inspirational to see so many praising our Lord.

The parade I enjoyed came this afternoon, while preparing our Dinner. Hubby had gone out for a bike ride & hurried back in to let the girls & I know we had visitors. By time I grabbed the camera, they were already out of our yard & wandering along to another.

I have mentioned our neighboring Geese and how silly they have been lately. My neighborhood has a lot. We don't bother them & they don't bother us. (Then again, I live across the street from the pond, instead of having the pond adjacent to our yard).  Anyway, I knew that the goslings were starting to hatch. There has been much commotion and these silly geese have been rather vocal.

Aren't they precious???

They are just so adorable! The adults kind of surrounded the goslings as they crossed over the street and headed back to the pond. I was getting pretty close to get good photographs. One Goose kept hissing at me and looking at me like, "Hello? do not hear me, crazy lady?"

Goofy Geese

Yesterday, the neighborhood Geese hit the rooftops.  They have been acting goofy lately. Squawking like crazy and chasing each other around.

I have only seen Geese on the roofs one other time. That was in Fort Wayne Indiana, about 12 years ago. Yesterday I saw four Geese on two houses, facing each other across the street squawking. (At least they stayed off mine).

Is it mating season?

Anyone else have Canadian Geese on their roofs?

A Lovely Italian Catholic Farewell

Several years ago, I showed my Grandma Kitty a grand "Life Center" that recently was build in Indy. Life Center. Fancy word for Funeral Home. I was in awe with it because it had a huge Chandelier that was lit every evening. You could see it for quite a ways. I thought it was beautiful. As did Grandma Kitty, however, she said something that really stuck with me. She thought it was so wasteful to have a funeral at such an "expensive place". She said that she would never want to have hers like that.

When Grandma died, we had a simple service in a full church. Then we gathered in the Reception Party House at her apartment complex. It was a pitch in. With barbecue, salads, and all the fixings. Just the way she'd want it. We laughed more than we cried. We celebrated a wonderful life, her way.

Today I attended a Catholic funeral for a lovely 89 year old Italian woman. It was perfect too. This was the mother of our Best Man from our wedding. She also had two other sons and a husband she left behind. Betty, was a grand woman. She came to America as a young girl from Italy. She met an Italian man, and the rest is history. She was a strong Catholic and came to the church not just once a week, but several times.

Sergio loved going over to their house as a boy. He, the Mexican, and his Italian, Cuban, & Cicero friends ran the neighborhood. They grew up together in a tight Catholic neighborhood. In the late 60's, and early 70's these kids ran the neighborhood. They had a blast. It didn't matter "where" they came from, they were St Bernadette boys.

Today these "boys" gathered again to say goodbye to one of their Mothers. It was touching.

Betty had a full Mass. A beautiful salute, and the most delightful Ava Maria sang in Italian. I was moved.

To have ones wishes given, regardless to what they are is a beautiful thing. I have been to so many funerals. These were two of my favorites. I look at them as a celebration of ones life. We are showing respect and condolences to the family. Both of these women would be proud of how their funerals were handled. To their wishes. Beautiful, touching and well, happy. I left both of these feeling happy to have known them.