Catholic Company Book Review: Holiness for Everyone

It's the eve of All Saints, so what better day to review a book about a saint?

Some of the most intriguing saints, I think, are the relatively-contemporary ones. While St. Josemaria Escriva has garnered more than his share of notoriety due to a famous work of fiction, there's much less popular factual knowledge about this modern-day saint. Eric Sammons sets out to correct this imbalance with Holiness for Everyone: The Practical Spirituality of St. Josemaria Escriva.

The book is less a biography of the saint (although an early chapter in the book does cover those details) than an introduction to the saint's writings and philosophy. In fact, this book is not meant as a stand-alone text, but as a companion to the primary sources--the saint's actual writings--all of which are freely available online. Suggested readings, including web addresses, are included at the end of each chapter, along with meditations, suggestions for prayer, and concepts to contemplate.

I found this book challenging to read but not ridiculously academic. It's not meant to be "downed" in one sitting, but instead to be a tool for reflection and prayer. St. Josemaria Escriva's writings were intended the same way; many of them are in "nugget" form, so that a reader could take a single sentence as a gateway to action and meditation.

Chapters are organized by theme and include topics such as freedom, work, contemplation, evangelization and holiness, among others. The idea of "holiness for everyone" is not unfamiliar to me as a Secular Franciscan; after all, the idea of this life is to dedicate my particular state in life, and all that I do, toward living according to the Gospel in the spirit of St. Francis. St. Josemaria Escriva's teachings reinforce the same ideas, though without the particularly Franciscan bent that I am used to seeing.

This book achieves its purpose: it's an appetizer, not the main course. It introduces the teachings and writing of a contemporary saint and leaves the reader hungry to learn more. Holiness for Everyone is an excellent introduction to the spirituality of a saint who has been misrepresented by popular culture.

You can purchase this book here.

I wrote this review of Holiness for Everyone for theCatholic Company Blogger Review program, created by The Catholic Company. The Catholic Company is a great resource for tools to help you participate in the Year of Faith, including Year of Faith bible studies and exclusive Year of Faith personalized gifts. The Catholic Company also has all your Advent needs in stock, such as Advent calendars and Advent wreaths. A review copy of the book was provided to me. I did not receive other compensation for this review.

By the Light of the Silvery Moon

Little Brother is getting ready to go on his very first camping trip with the Boy Scouts. The troop has invited the Webelo 2 den along on this weekend's camping trip so that the Webelos can begin to learn the camping skills they'll need as Boy Scouts.

There has been much packing and preparing. Last night he began gathering his stuff and stuffing it into an old backpack. We had gotten him a multi-tool-utensil (Swiss Army silverware?) and it was still in the plastic clamshell package. He spent more than 10 minutes with his Scout knife, stabbing that clamshell in random places.

I could have taken care of the situation with one swipe of my kitchen shears, but I let him struggle with it himself, even when that struggle proved potentially dangerous to his fingers and my coffee table.

That's a lot of trouble to go to, especially when you consider that this kid still doesn't use utensils on a regular basis.

This morning I tripped over his fully-packed backpack with the flashlight sticking out of the front pocket. I asked him if he'd packed extra batteries for the flashlight.

"I won't need those," he informed me. "I'll have the moon and the stars to be my light."

Good luck with that.

(He packed the batteries.)

Relief

Did you hear that deep, deep sigh yesterday around 11:30 AM Eastern? That was me and TheDad after we met with the very personable surgeon at the cancer center. Under the circumstances, we got the best possible news.

The tumor (what's left of it) is in a place that is easy to access. It is not in, on or near any organs and it has not spread anywhere. Next Friday he will have it removed in a same-day surgery.

After he recovers from the surgery he will begin radiation treatment. There will not be chemo because chemo doesn't work on this type of tumor. Beyond that he will just need regular imaging to see if anything has returned but with this type of tumor the chances of it returning are pretty slim.

I am ever grateful for your prayers and support. I feel like the really hard part is over now. We have a game plan, and we have assurance that the tumor is contained.

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

Little Brother's not going to be little forever, and that means all those Little Brotherisms are going to come to an end someday. I'm savoring them while they last. Here's today's:

We were in the car after soccer, discussing that we were both surprised to see the soccer coach smoking.

Little Brother:  "He should try to stop smoking. Maybe he could get some of those patties that you pat on your arm that help you stop smoking."

Limbo, Limbo, Limbo

Just trying to keep things normal here in my house, for my kids, and for my husband and myself, as we sit here in Oncology Limbo getting through a few more days until we have a better idea of what he's fighting and how the hospital plans to fight it.

For the record, he will be treated at one of the best cancer hospitals in the country; I was there for my non-cancer surgery 6 months ago and we are comforted by the first-hand knowledge of the wonderful care I received as a patient in that hospital.

I am comforted by relatives and friends alike who have showed us so much care and concern (and made offers to help that I know enough to accept--and will do so soon). Some of these people are fighting their own battles with cancer right now. But they have reached out anyway--that means so much. Other friends have beaten cancer in the past.

Today I received a lot of encouragement from Pat Gohn. We were supposed to be recording a conversation to be used in her Among Women podcast, "Midlife Madres" series. I don't know if Pat got anything she can use or not, but she knows how to listen and she knows what it's like to go through this kind of scary time. I am grateful for each and every minute we spent on the phone today.

As I told Pat at one point, I am wrestling right now. There will be many decisions to be made. There will be things I'll have to "outsource" to others, kids' games I'll miss, plans I'll need to lay aside. It's not so much a "why me?" kind of wrestling as it is a "how do I handle all of what we've got going on and keep our collective sanity relatively intact?"

I might look calm on the outside, but my unscientific research is showing that hot flashes increase exponentially along with one's stress levels. Every so often it reaches its peak and the hot flashes bring along impatience, anger and, yes, tears. Even when I try my hardest to keep that from happening. So yes, calm on the outside, but my stomach is in knots and I think those knots are extending to the rest of me, because my pain level is off the charts today.

But there's a rosary in my pocket, ever ready for a prayer or ten. I'm getting to daily Mass as much as possible. I'm thankful for the encouragement and advice I have received. And when this after-dinner cup of (decaffeinated) Irish tea doesn't cut it, like now, I'm glad there's a carton of chocolate-peanut-butter-cup ice cream in the freezer.

Pray Your Way Through It: A Rosary, A Giveaway and a Twitter-Style Interview with Author Sarah Reinhard

It's my honor to be among the reviewers, promoters and pray-ers in the Rosary Blog Tour for author Sarah Reinhard's new book--the first in the Catholicmom.com series from Ave Maria Press. The book is called A Catholic Mother's Companion to Pregnancy: Walking with Mary from Conception to Baptism.

This is no ordinary "What to Expect" type of book, although it does include some information on the physical changes that mom and baby experience during pregnancy. It is more of a spiritual guide through pregnancy, touching on areas that most pregnancy "instruction manuals" won't give more than a passing mention. It's the book I wish I had back before each of my kids was born. (It's not just for first-time mamas!)

Sarah is all about Twitter--I guess because as a mom of 3 kids under 8, it's hard to think in more than 140 characters at a time. So when she offered to do an interview, I decided to borrow one of her own techniques and ask her to reply to the question in the form of tweets. You'll have to follow her on Twitter, however, to appreciate her amazing use of the hashtag.

You have 3 young children. How did you manage to find the time to write this book?

It was made possible mostly by 3 people: my mother-in-law, sister-in-law, & best friend. I also squeezed writing in during fits & starts.

Besides the Blessed Mother, is there any other saint who particularly inspires you as a parent?

A whole host of them! St Joseph in a special way, as well as Monica, Therese the Little Flower, Elizabeth Ann Seton, & Francis deSales.

What's the best advice you can give to an expectant mom who's not having an easy time of it?

Look to the prize at the end and grip Mary's hand as hard as you need to (she can take it).

Are you afraid of being considered a pessimist because your book focuses on difficulties moms can experience during pregnancy?

If pregnancy is a walk in the park, we need to acknowledge the weeds & thorns too, right? But there's hope & that's not pessimistic at all.

In each chapter, you list "One Small Step," in the form of a prayer activity. What's the one that made the most difference to you during your pregnancies?

Eucharistic Adoration, hands-down, no competition. Laying my head in Jesus' lap, letting him carry me & the rest, transformed & blessed me.

To celebrate the launch of her new book, A CatholicMother's Companion to Pregnancy: Walking with Mary from Conception to Baptism, Sarah Reinhard invites all of us to spend her blog book tour praying the rosary together. Today, she shares this reflection on the Scourging at the Pillar:

There’s no doubt it was painful to be scourged. Jesus’s flesh was torn by the shards on the end of the whips.
Picture the people observing. There’s no reason to suspect the Romans would have had any fondness for him, but in the crowd of leering, goading people, there had to be people who had listened to Jesus’s preaching. There must have been people who were close to him, who had even cheered him on in his ministry and encouraged his miracles. It’s possible that his mother was there, too, seeing her son ripped to shreds.
What must it have felt like to see those people laughing and even enjoying the scourging? How must Jesus have felt in their betrayal? How much more did it hurt, knowing his mother—who had also done no wrong—was suffering as she watched (or would suffer later while seeing him)?
We’ve all experienced betrayal. There’s a special sting when we find out that someone who seemed to be our number-one fan maybe isn’t so much or seems to have changed his or her mind. There’s also a prick I often give myself, thinking that I know what someone else thinks of me. I’ll get myself all worked up, thinking that Susie believes I’m a total idiot about the decision I made (and am standing by).
Is it worse to be betrayed or to be flogged for something we didn’t do? I change my mind on this, depending on the day.
The lesson in this mystery is one that I need: Jesus understands. Oh boy, does he understand. Maybe he wasn’t ever pregnant with his fourth kid and up to his ears in housework and feeling the pressure of a distant family member to come visit as soon as the baby’s born. Having gone through the exact scenario isn’t necessarily a prerequisite for being able to understand though. Can’t you picture his pain and torture in this mystery? Can’t you imagine, to some extent, the horror and weight of it?
Turn to Jesus, in this mystery, and tell him about what scourges you. Give him the heaviest burden you have, the one you think he will least understand. Use this mystery as your common ground, as the place where you meet him. Let him guide you to the place of blessing, where the pain might make sense or have a purpose, perhaps even eternally.

As we pray this decade of the rosary, let's hold all those brave women who have said yes to difficult and challenging motherhood in our intentions in a special way. Don't forget, too, that we are praying for an increase in all respect life intentions as part of our rosary together this month. (If you’re not familiar with how to pray the rosary, you can find great resources at Rosary Army.)
Our Father . . . 
10 - Hail Mary . . .
Glory Be . . . 
O My Jesus . . . 

You can find a complete listing of the tour stops over at Snoring Scholar. 

Now for the fun part: you can WIN STUFF!

Be sure to enter to win a Nook (and any number of other goodies) each day of the tour over at Ave Maria Press.

And I have TWO copies of this book to give away to lucky readers of this blog. If you'd like to win a copy of the book, just leave a comment below. I will keep the giveaway open through 11:59 PM EDT on October 26, the last day of the Rosary Blog Tour.

UPDATE:  Giveaway closed! Comments #1 and #4 are the winners and will be contacted so I can arrange delivery of their prizes.

An Open Letter to the High-School Principal

As the principal, I'm sure you get plenty of emails from parents that concern complaints and problems. I would like to take this opportunity to let you know of the very positive experience I had today with a group of students from your school.

My daughter had asked if we could host a pasta party for the JV girls' soccer team. When the girls arrived after practice today, they immediately began thanking us for hosting and asking if they could help in any way. I'm sure I heard the words "thank you" at least three times per student:  when they came in, when they got their dinner, and when they departed. Everyone was respectful of me and my home. They enjoyed each other's company and were a pleasure to have as our guests. The girls on this team were a credit to their families and to the school.

This is my seventh straight year as the parent of a student in your school, and I have come to expect nothing less of the young people you help to educate.


I emailed this letter to the principal after this evening's pasta party. I know this was a small matter, but it was wonderful to have such a positive experience--it really made my day.

Upside Down

I spent the morning yesterday in a hospital waiting room. My husband was there for same-day, minor surgery. I drank a lot of coffee, prayed the Rosary, and tried to ignore the overly-loud, overly-large TVs. I was nervous, of course, but not very worried, because we'd been told so many times that it was " probably nothing."

I should have known that my uncharacteristic optimism was misplaced.

I kept thinking to myself that it would be No Big Deal, all the while in denial of just how easily No Big Deal can turn into a Very Big Deal Indeed. Minor can go to major in less time than it takes to spell my last name. And your whole world turns upside down as the surgeon says those 3 words nobody wants to hear.

As we try to let it all sink in, as we think of how to find the words to make the kids understand, we simultaneously scribble down specialists' phone numbers on Post-It notes and assemble folders full of referrals, test results and form after form after form after form.

It is all these details, I think, that will make me crazy and at the same time keep me from going crazy. If I concentrate on the details, I won't have to think about the big picture. I don't want to see the forest for the trees.

We will have to wait more than a week before the next step can be taken, before all the results are in and appointments can be made with just the right doctors. And all those other minor-league problems we've been dealing with? We're not feeling the need to deal with those just now. Can we please just put that stuff on the back burner for a while?

One thing at a time, Lord. It's hard to turn this over when I want to take the ball myself and run with it. I'm a ball-hog in that regard, just as much as some of the hotshots on Little Brother's soccer team. It's hard to turn it over because if I abandon it, if I relinquish the control I try to hard to maintain, I might just go to pieces when it is least convenient.

Mom doesn't get to fall apart, you know. That's a rule. And if nothing else, I'm a rule-follower.

Even--perhaps especially--when our world has just been turned upside down.

Pray for my husband, if you would; for his doctors; for the kids and for me as we negotiate this new and scary road.

And thank you to Barbara for the beautiful Rosary!

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In Honor of the Feast

Today is the Feast of St. Francis. I didn't get to Mass this morning, because I was substitute-teaching at Little Brother's school.

But I told them that I could only do half a day today, because this afternoon, the Secular Franciscans were getting together for a little retreat led by our very own Secular Franciscan Deacon! Together we reflected on being Franciscan, on minority, poverty, commitment and renewal. We closed the retreat with Adoration and Benediction.

So what does it mean to be a Franciscan in today's world? Among other things, it means that we decide to serve rather than to be served; to "rebuild the Church" person by person, and to witness that people are more important than things.

And it means that we seek to surround ourselves with other who are striving for the same goal.

Today I am thankful for my Franciscan family! May this feast, and all days, be blessed.

Tuesdays with Martha

That's SAINT Martha, not Martha Stewart.

The ladies at Suscipio have learned that Tuesday is the day traditionally associated with the devotion to St. Martha, patroness of stressed-out homemakers everywhere.

I've got a soft spot for her myself. And I think it's neat that Tuesday is "her" day, because in my house, Tuesday always seems to be that tough day in Homemaking World. (On Monday, everyone is off to work and school and the house is quiet and I quietly putter around here getting all sorts of things done. On Tuesday...well, Tuesday is always another story with its special brand of crazy, especially during soccer season and even more especially when you have failed to plan ahead because you got caught up reading Catholic sci-fi...but I digress. Time to hide the Kindle until after dinner.)

Click on over to Suscipio if you, too, have a soft spot for St. Martha. Pray the novena for your intentions and for those of all the other women who seek strength, encouragement, and support.

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This, That and The Other Thing: Freelance Edition

You know what's cool? When they pay you to rant about stuff that you'd probably rant about anyway. At least, that's what I get to do over at one of my shopping blogs. As long as I can segue over to a coupon at the end, it's all good. Over there today, I tell the story of what happened last night when Middle Sister was getting ready for her friend's birthday party.

You know what's not cool? Learning a real-life lesson about intellectual property...the hard way. I was hired to write some articles for websites that focus on building a personal brand and developing an "online portfolio." I was asked to provide a biography and a photo. About two weeks after completing those articles, more were requested. I visited the websites to get an idea of other content on the topics I was assigned, and I found one of my articles from the first batch, attributed to someone else who (according to the person who hired me) is a fictional persona. Let it be known that in the future I will be a lot more protective of the copyright on any of my writing, because clearly I cannot claim authorship of those articles for my own online portfolio. Notice the irony there?

That led to a whole big dilemma for me last weekend, culminating in my decision not to do any more work for that group of websites. I was very afraid that I would burn a bridge, because I do have a very good working relationship with the person who hired me to do that and several other projects. Fortunately she was understanding (and as surprised as I was about what happened) and she asked me if I'd like to continue working on future projects with her (yay!)

It was a tough couple of days, but my husband and kids stood behind me and encouraged me not to work for someone who would put a different person's name on my articles even if it meant a loss of business. And once I sent out that email explaining why I would not do more work for that website group, I felt so good. I knew I had made the right decision and was so happy to learn that I have not burned a bridge when it comes to other projects.

Book Review: WorkShift

It's a book that came along at just the right time for me: the beginning of a new school year is always a great time to put things into perspective and get a handle on a new routine. Add to that a HUGE increase in the writing projects I've got going, and there's potential for a just-as-huge increase in unscheduled craziness, fatigue and resentment.

(As background, because I don't talk about this here much: I do social-media work for a local video-production company, am a shopping content editor for Internet Brands, and do other freelance writing and SEO projects as well as my commitment to Catholicmom.com's Tech Talk column and 4 hours per week volunteer service in Little Brother's school library. The writing work is part-time, on my schedule, and the money's not huge but it works for my family's situation at this time.)

On the day I started reading WorkShift, I was elbow-deep in a to-do list with no energy (or motivation) to get any of it done. I figured that time spent with this book would be time well-spent. The many, many real-life examples inspired me. There were moms with infants, moms with kids in grade school, moms in many lines of work.

Of course, no situation completely matched mine, but that's not really the point. It's good to know that there are plenty of families out there who are making it work--finding ways to keep moms at home for their families yet enabling them to contribute to the family budget, stay active professionally, and work creatively.

Five years ago today I wouldn't have dreamed that I'd actually be earning money by writing--without even having to leave my own home to do it. Of course, there are some projects that are more fun than others, but as my husband always says, "They call it work for a reason."

What I need to remember is that no work project is worth resenting a twice-a-week soccer-practice schedule (though I do reserve the right to be exasperated when Coach keeps the kids on the field after it's too dark to see each other, the ball, the goal or the coach).

As I read this book, I found myself grabbing Post-It notes and index cards so I could scribble down ideas for how to set up a work schedule this year that leaves room for family, flexibility, and even a little fun. And then I reached the final chapter, where author Anne Bogel has listed plenty of resources (both print and online) to help do just that. The additional structure that I'm going to try to plug into my workday should benefit me, my family and my employers.

Are you interested in reading WorkShift? You can purchase it through ejunkie or Amazon. It's available in ebook format for Kindle or as a PDF you can read at your computer (or even print out). It sells for $8.

The fine print: I received an ebook copy of WorkShift and if you purchase the book through ejunkie I will receive a small commission. I did not receive any other compensation for this review, and the opinions are mine alone.

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A Whole New Meaning

One thing I love about our church is the cross. A Franciscan parish from the time it was founded in 1913, our church has a huge San Damiano Cross on the wall behind the altar. It's more than a cross--it's an icon, and every little detail has meaning. Read all about it, then gaze upon a large San Damiano Cross if you can find one. It's a wonderful meditation.

It's such a wonderful road to prayer, in fact, that I hesitate a bit to share this story. But I thought it was funny, so I'm going to tell it anyway.

The altar servers at our parish often wear a little cross over their albs. But the crosses aren't all the same. Some have the words "Altar Server" inscribed on them. Others are San Damiano crosses. On Sunday, Little Brother got himself vested for altar serving, then came out to wait by me in the choir area. After I fixed his collar (an every-Sunday occurrence) I told him that I was glad he was wearing the San Damiano cross because it's my favorite one.

He wanted to know why, and I showed him that it matched the cross on the wall in the church. He'd never noticed it before (possibly because he usually sits with the musicians who don't have a good view of it) and I pointed out some of the figures on the cross.

Then I mentioned the "angels with halos" at the very top. Suddenly he got interested. "Halo people?" he asked. "I thought those were only in video games!"

Signs of Affection

Last night I entered into complicated negotiations with Little Brother. I'll be seeing him at school today (and every Friday) and there is that delicate matter of parental affection to be dealt with.

For the past year, he hasn't wanted me to wait for the bus with him in the mornings. I do miss that; he's the only kid at the bus stop at that time, and we used to have some nice little chats.

And while I used to get a hug (maybe two) from him on those school days when I volunteered in the library, last night it was made pretty clear that I'm not to expect that this year. At 10, Little Brother thinks he's too big to hug his mom in public. He grudgingly suggested that I could muss his hair a little bit.

Usually the librarian schedules me to volunteer on the day when Little Brother's class will be in the library. I appreciate this and so does he (and I think she does too, as this is a big and, well, loud group. They're good kids--but they are noisy.) When he was in second grade, she needed me on a different day, but when his class was on the way into the art room next to the library, his teacher would let him run into the library and give me a hug.

Those were the good old days.

I mourned this on Twitter last night: "Sign your "baby" is getting old: you have to negotiate an acceptable sign of affection in advance of seeing him at school tomorrow."

The prevailing opinion on Twitter was that I should tackle and hug (and/or kiss) the kid anyway; after all, "real men kiss their moms" and I am the one who pays his bills. The truth is, Twitter, I don't tend to be boisterous like that.

At least he still hugged me when he said goodnight, after all those negotiations.

At least he still wants me to help at his school--with his class.

And at least he has library in the mornings, before the hair that he is so graciously allowing me to touch gets too sweaty from the playground football game at recess.

Tiber River Review: The Truth About Therese

A saint who died when she was only about half my age? Who spent 1/3 of her life behind convent walls? How could such a saint possibly inspire anyone whose path in life had taken a very different turn?

While the title and subtitle of this book, The Truth about Therese: An Unflinching Look at Lisieux, the Little Flower, and the Little Way suggest a more "unauthorized biography" feel, that's not what author Henri Gheon achieves in this short biography of St. Therese of Lisieux. Instead, he writes of the many difficulties she endured, even after she achieved her dream of becoming a Carmelite at a very young age.

My favorite chapter of this book was the first one, "My Initial Resistance to St. Therese," because I have felt the same resistance. I was more captivated by this saint as a teenager; the older I have become, the more distant I have felt from her. But this book, especially in the later chapters, does much to bring out the spiritual battles that St. Therese fought throughout her life. While my battles are surely different, there is much that I can learn from St. Therese's actions and attitudes about how to endure such spiritual warfare.

Through this book, I learned that St. Therese was more than a spoiled child, more than a goody-goody; I learned of her Little Way and how it can be put into practice. Most importantly, I learned that sainthood doesn't come easy to anyone--but that's no reason to stop striving for it.

The foreward by Philippe Maxence is short but not to be missed.

Perhaps because it was translated from the French, and surely because it was originally written in 1934, this book is not an easy read. Vocabulary, sentence structure and turn of phrase are challenging to the reader.

The fine print:  I wrote this review of The Truth About Therese for the free Catholic book review program, created by Aquinas and More Catholic Goods.
Aquinas and More is the largest on-line Catholic bookstore.
I receive free product samples as compensation for writing reviews for Tiber River. 

Works in Progress

Things my kids have learned this summer: How to make Jambalaya. Algebra. Acting. Making tuna salad and muffin pizza.

Things my kids have not learned this summer: Turning lights and tv off when they leave a room. Closing drawers and doors to cabinets and closets. Eating with silverware (still to be mastered by one child)

So they can cook, compute and emote, but they still act like they were raised by wolves.

There is much work yet to be done.

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Fat Police

This morning, Little Brother and I went grocery shopping. Everything went well for the first 3/4 of the trip. We got nectarines, cucumbers, melon, bananas, celery, Cheerios, peanut butter, cookies (I had a coupon) and EVOO. Then we got to the dairy aisle, and that's where things got ugly.

I reached for a gallon of milk, the kind with the red top that screams, "Full fat!" at the casual observer, and my skinny 10-year-old took me to task.

It's got to be the propaganda that's behind it. First of all, the kid doesn't even drink milk--hasn't in more than 8 years. I am the main consumer of that weekly gallon of milk, and I like my milk whole, thankyouverymuch. But boy, was I in trouble. "Why don't you buy 2%, Mom?"

"Because I don't like 2%. I like Real Milk." We went along this way for a while, as I wheeled the cart along and picked up a pound of Real Butter and 18 Real Eggs and then headed toward the Coffee Nirvana section, where I once again bemoaned the fact that ShopRite never has quarts of light cream anymore.

"Half-and-half is just as good, Mom," said my young Food Policeman.

"No, believe me, half-and-half is not just as good," I sighed as I placed a quart of half-and-half in the cart sadly.

"Mom, I agree with that governor of New York about this," he commented. (I think he meant "mayor," but whatever. I was arguing for my Real Milk, not accuracy regarding government officials.)

Kid, I'm all for healthy, which is why I bought nectarines, cucumbers, melon, bananas, celery, Cheerios and peanut butter, and also the EVOO. But when it comes to dairy, I'm a full-fat kind of girl. And no one, not any governor or mayor or president or surgeon general or doctor on TV is going to tell me not to have my nice big glass of milk with dinner every night.

Real milk. With the red top. Ice cold. It's the only way. I'm willing to sit down with the Fat Police over a cold one and discuss this, and I will not back down.

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Of Goodbyes, Long and Short, and Birthdays

Yesterday was my husband's birthday. Three years ago it stopped being a happy occasion.

On his birthday three years ago, we stood next to each other, all lined up in fancy clothes, alongside his father's casket. Pop had passed away two days before after a short and unexpected illness. Some of the people at the wake remembered that it was my husband's birthday and awkwardly wished him a happy birthday along with offering their condolences.

It was weird, and a pretty crummy way to have to spend a birthday.

The other day we gathered with my mother-in-law, as well as my husband's sister-in-law and 3 nieces, to attend a Mass for Pop. After that we got some pizza. No one made sure there was a cake, or candles. No one even sang or suggested the idea of it. You don't commemorate the anniversary of a death with a birthday cake and a rousing chorus of "Sto Lat*."

My mother-in-law did not call her son yesterday to wish him a happy birthday. I don't know if she remembers that his birthday was Sunday; during the past couple of years it has become apparent that she is suffering from Alzheimer's. On Friday evening, after we got home, my husband confided that it's really hard for him to see his mom like this.

Hard as it was to lose Pop, his illness was mercifully short. In early August of that year, we were arguing with him that he should see a doctor because of a few symptoms he was having. By the 24th he was gone. In between those two points were a horrible couple of weeks in which my husband spent his time shuttling between his job and his parents so that his mom could get to see Pop in the hospital. There was no time to think about what might happen, what it would be like with Pop gone. There was no time to think about anything.

Now, all he has is time. He knows that he is losing a little bit of his mom with each passing day. It's just a question of how many days will pass before a family agreement must be made, because the time will come (sooner rather than later) when she cannot continue to live on her own. In many ways, already, she is no longer "on her own," depending on my husband and his sister-in-law for things like errands, food shopping, paying the bills, doctor visits and filling her medication organizer.

This is an awful way to lose someone.

Right now, what is lost is the short-term memory stuff: the "where did I put my keys" and the taking medicine as scheduled and the writing out of checks to pay bills. But we know what's coming. And the hardest loss of all, I think, will be the loss of the relationship: the time when she no longer remembers her son, when she cannot recognize her grandchildren.

One way (out of many) in which my husband and I are opposite is that he is a relationship person and I am a logistics person. It's something that I admire and am frustrated by, sometimes in the same minute. But while I worry about his mom largely in terms of the logistics, he is grieving, in advance, the loss of the relationship with his mother, even as he must deal with the logistics of her physical needs.

And that is a pretty crummy way to spend a bithday.

*"Sto Lat" is a Polish happy-occasion song. The lyrics, loosely translated, mean "May you live 100 years." In my husband's family, it is always sung at birthdays.

 

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Like a Ninja

Ever since he was a very Little Brother, his nickname has been "Monkey." If it was there, the kid would climb it.

Just now, he woke up and came downstairs.

"What's up, Monk?" I greeted him.

"I'm not a monk," he informed me. "Monks do this all the time," bowing his head and folding his hands in prayer.

"I'll bet some of them altar serve," I commented.

He brightened (I thought the mention of altar-serving did it) and then zipped out of praying-hands mode into full-on Ninja warrior moves--kind of like Tai Chi but speedier.

"Some of them do this," he told me. "Ninja Monks!"

A Rose by Any Other Name

So I was sitting at Little Brother's soccer practice last night when the leaves of the tree next to me caught my eye. Because of the heavy underbrush, I couldn't see the tree trunk, but the leaves were interesting. I have an app for my phone called Leafsnap that lets you take a photo of a leaf and then it analyzes it, offering a few possibilities for leafy identification.

My kids found the leaf on the kitchen table tonight (I had to set the leaf on a white surface or the app doesn't work) and they think they don't need an app to know that the leaf is probably marijuana.

NOT.

It looks quite a bit like it, but according to the app and several websites, what we've got here is a sweetgum tree.

I had no idea those grew north of the Mason-Dixon Line; something about the name "sweetgum tree" just screams "Deep South" to me. Must have been mentioned in a book once.

My kids, however, are standing by their story and offering me assistance with recovery of a whole other sort than I've been working on for the past few months.

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