Rowdy and Ruckus

Today is my sister's birthday. She is my only sister, and I wouldn't trade her in for anything in the world. Here's a little story about when we were much younger and not even looking ahead to realize we could be this ancient. Though, I bet my sis can still belt them out!

Rowdy and Ruckus

My sister and I were hanging around by ourselves. This was when the family lived in the house at Ft. Niagara beach.  It was a sunny Saturday, and we were under strict instructions to get that room cleaned up once and for all, or else! Or else, what? Probably nothing, really. Just more annoyed Mom. Oh, how we put her out sometimes. But we knew we needed to get the job done. It would have been a drudge, had anyone stayed home with us to look over our shoulder, but thankfully, we had been deserted by the rest of the family. With the dust roiling up in the air as we as we shoveled our piles of junk into the middle of the floor, we threw open the windows and doors so we could breathe.

WKBW, our favorite radio station blared on full volume. We had to shout over it to hear one another. Aretha Franklin belted out: R-E-S-P-E-C-T!  FIND OUT WHAT IT MEANS TO ME! as we accompanied her at the top of our lungs. There was something a little evil in our glee, knowing we must be bugging the heck out of our neighbors. Once the radio began replaying the re-plays of the re-plays, we shut it off and kept on singing as we separated the dirty clothes from the clean ones, carefully refolding the one’s Mom had just piled on our beds a few days before. Funny, how everything always landed on the floor, with everything else. Well, we couldn’t help it we were teenage girls, or rather, my sister was the teenage girl. I was the newly divorced mother of two, who wished she were a teenager again. Being with my sister automatically made me a teenager in my heart. She was full of energy and enthusiasm that I had thought deserted me, until I was around her.

We got a good rendition of “Amen” going, while traipsing around, clapping our hands and swinging our bodies as though we were in a hot revival meeting. (I had never been to one before, but now, I know that is what we were doing). Sorting out all the papers and trash was the easiest part. Anything that looked like schoolwork got trashed by wadding it up and giving a quick overhand heave-ho into the wastebasket. It didn’t take long to have it overflowing. We both would have been great on a girl’s basketball team!

In the midst of our enthusiasm, we got carried away by the Four Tops, as we hauled the dirty clothes into the laundry room to wash. No longer isolated to our room, we decided to surprise Mom and clean up the whole house. So, we began cleaning the kitchen and bathroom. Then, singing louder over the vacuum with Diana Ross and The Supremes, we cleaned and straightened up the living room. Our voices getting hoarse, we changed to the Polish radio station that Mom’s friend, Annie listened to. The rollicking polka music of the sixties OOM-PAH-PAHed as we grabbed each other and polkaed around the house until we grew dizzy, tripped over furniture and landed on the floor, laughing; still completely aware of how rowdy we were being and how it must be really annoying the hell out of old Mrs. Steffan next door.

What would she put into her spy report this week?

RESPECT
Aretha Franklin




AMEN
Sidney Poiter



Polka Dancing

Photo Friday: Thanksgiving (photo that shows what it means to you)

I had a very difficult time coming up with a photo representing what Thanksgiving means to me. I've spent days asking myself the question. I know what it used to mean to me, and I have written about that in the past two days.

The other day I watched a program giving the history of Thanksgiving.... very very different than what schoolchildren are taught it is meant to be, and I presume not many adults know the real story behind it, either.

I like the idea of people gathering together to share their gratitude for the abundance in their lives. But, I also don't like the idea much that it should be held just one day a year. Perhaps life just passes us by so quickly that the moment arrives and leaves before we can say, thank you for that, friend.

I'm so full of gratitude that I am even alive that every breath is a blessing, and everything after that is like, WOW! including the bad stuff. For without the bad stuff, how easily we would forget to enjoy the ordinary. It's not like I go around life smiling from ear to ear. My mind knows this stuff the way I know how to spell my name. But, do I go around "feeling" my name as something to appreciate all the time? No. So even though I know how lucky I am, I am still much like anyone else when it comes to having feelings that are not always filled with thankfulness and joy.

I thought and thought about what does Thanksgiving mean to me. I wondered what picture I might have to represent it. Nothing would come to mind. I examined why. I rolled it around in my head. Thanksgiving means nothing to me at the moment. But why?  All the things it meant to me in the past, no longer apply.

And then, it dawned on me. This has been a very painful year. People I love have died.

Am I thankful they are dead? NO!
Am I filled with gratitude that they've gone on to heaven? NO!
Because they are not here with me.
No, I'm not glad they've gone on to heaven.
GOD! GIVE THEM BACK!

I ain't got no gratitude.

I can feel my Sunday school teacher waggling her finger at me right now, "Shame, shame for talking to God like that."

Yes, I am grateful they are no longer suffering. But, I am not thankful that it was only this one way that stopped their suffering.

Okay, so this isn't a cheerful posting. A thoughtful one maybe. A truthful one because these are my exact feelings.

But, definitely a hopeful one.

I am thankful that my son-in-law was accidentally diagnosed with Thyroid Cancer.
I am thankful that it is one of the "easy" kinds of Thyroid Cancer. The kind that has the very highest survival rate. Where have I heard that before? Okay, I'm not all that thankful. I'm thankful with an underlying uneasiness.
I am thankful for my daughter's knowledge and education which caused her to withdraw her husband from the scheduled surgical procedure to be done at their local well-meaning doctor and hospital.
I am thankful that she has the chutzpah to contact City of Hope, a prestigious cancer hospital, of finagle an appointment right away for her husband. He was scheduled to have his thyroid removed yesterday.

This year my daughter will not have thanksgiving
My grandkids will not have thanksgiving.
My great grandkids will not have thanksgiving.
Who would cook the turkey? Not me, I'm a seven hour drive from where they live and even if I got there, I wouldn't have the ability to put together a splendid meal. And who would eat it, anyways? Not my son-in-law, not my daughter, not my five grandkids. Of the four great grandkids, perhaps two are young enough that they would be able to enjoy it. Scott's mother is going to be by his side, along with his brothers and step-mother. They wont be cooking, nor eating much but a sandwich or whatever they can grab it at the hospital.

Thanksgiving has been put on hold this year. I think we will all be holding our collective breath until next year when he has recovered from surgery and had his radioactive iodine isotope treatments.

Still I am thankful that my daughter has such a wonderful man for a husband, that my grandkids have a great daddy and my great grandkids have a wonderful grandpa!