The Sacrifices of War

As we fire up our grills this weekend, head to the beach or catch that parade, let's not forget the reason we have a three day weekend.

It can be easy to do just that if we don't know someone who is in the military, or we haven't seen the sacrifices they've made first hand. Although I have cousins who have served their country, I have two currently in the Army and Marines, it was way before then that I learned to appreciate sacrifice.

When I was a reporter in Georgia, one of my first assignments was to interview two elderly gentlemen who had served in the Pacific Theater during World War II. The movie "Saving Private Ryan" had just come out and the daily newspaper wanted me to get the veterans point of view. The brothers delved into their experiences overseas, especially their part in helping to rebuild the Irrawaddy Bridge in Burma. They spoke so proudly of their time there, getting somber only when remembering friends who perished over there. This was actually the first time in my life I had ever spoken to any World War II veteran so I couldn't fully appreciate their reflections- yet.

Two year later I found myself working at a nursing home and it was here that I really got to understand what soldiers sacrifice. I was interviewing Blanche, a woman in her 80s, who I always found quiet and kept to herself. Blanche began to tell me how a persistent suitor finally got her to fall in love and marry him in the early 1940s. Soon after they were married Blanche got pregnant and had a son. Her husband, like so many at that time, enlisted leaving his new family to serve as a proud member of the 82nd Airborne Division. The couple wrote to each other often, telling each other how they would be together soon enough when the war was over. On June 6, 1944, Blanche's husband was one of thousands who were part of a secret assault, the Normandy Invasion. She got a letter two weeks later that her husband was missing in action and presumed dead. Nearly 60 years later, Blanche still looked devastated remembering the life that could have been. Though she later remarried and divorced, she still carried the scars of a widowed soldier's wife. Her husband, and her family, truly did give the ultimate sacrifice for freedom.

Six months before 9-11 I went on a trip to France with my husband and his family. Normandy was on our itinerary and if it wasn't for Blanche's story and this trip I never would have come to fully appreciate our veterans. As I stood on Omaha beach looking at the wounded landscape, I was humbled by the many lives lost on the beach so many years ago. When I walked through the American Cemetery, I was overwhelmed by the thousands of headstones stretching on to the horizon. Though this trip was not as glamorous as going to Paris, it was the best part of it. I learned a lot more from that trip and Blanche, than I ever did in a textbook. But make no mistake, though these brave soldiers sacrificed so much, our soldiers today have also sacrificed.

We may not all agree with the politics in this country, or why our troops are serving in the Middle East, we certainly owe it to our soldiers to give them the respect and the dignity for the bravery they have shown. So many of our young soldiers are coming back to live new lives as amputees, or to heal the psychological scars of what they saw over there. The least we can do is say "thank you" though it doesn't seem sufficient.

Keeping It $imple

This past weekend we had the pleasure of going to a little town in Connecticut to see our niece make her First Communion. As beautiful a ceremony it was, the one thing that really struck me was how simple the celebration was.

The girls were dressed in simple white dresses with understated veils - the complete opposite of the usual overblown affairs you see here on Long Island. If you don't believe me, just go check out the many Communions taking place this month. The dresses look more like miniature versions of bridal gowns. I recently heard the outrageous price tag for one of these "designer" dresses your little darling can wear on her special day and I couldn't believe my ears! A dress with all the trimmings can run families upwards of $1,000 not including the reception at a catering hall to follow!

That's a scary prospect for me as the mother of twin daughters! I'm going to have to explain to my daughters one day soon why we won't spend that kind of money on a dress they are going to wear once! It's tough enough feeling like you have to compete against the other parents who shower their children with name brand apparel without a second thought. Not all of us have the luxury nor the desire to do the same.

If celebrating our children's milestones comes with such a hefty price tag what will their future proms, weddings or other big events cost? Have we lost sight of what's important? In a time where many Americans are tightening their belts for survival, how can we afford not to revert back to the simple things in life?

What a shame that many parents feel that they have to compete to buy the most over the top Communion dresses when it's really more about what the day means for the children. Luckily for my niece her mom never lost sight of that and dressed her daughter appropriately to anticipate an exciting day in her religious journey. If only the rest of us could follow the same example, we would all be better for it. Especially our children.

Fifty Shades of Freaky

It’s the dirty little secret moms are talking about in hushed whispers. The book series, “Fifty Shades of Grey” has been THE hot topic among women for the past three months. The series focuses on the relationship between naïve college student Antastasia Steele and the domineering billionaire Christian Grey. What is it about the series that has everyone talking?

The author E.L. James, who was recently on Long Island for a book-signing, admits the book started out as “Twilight” fan fiction but rapidly took a turn of its own. For many of us thirty-somethings who picked up the love affair between Edward Cullen and Bella Swan, “Fifty Shades” was the adult version gone to the extreme.

But what really has the moms talking is what the books have done for relationships. The steamy storylines have reinvigorated relationships that have long been in a rut. For many of us, between working a job, caring for our families, taking care of ourselves, shuttling all over the place, it sometimes doesn’t leave enough time for romance and the connection that we all crave. We get busy in the day to day hustle and bustle and are too tired to focus on each other’s wants and desires by the time the kids are in bed.

Then you read the books and meet Christian Grey and you remember what it’s like to be desired, wanted and coveted so desperately that it lights the fire from within. The next thing you know you are seeking out your husband or partner to feel that connection again! You begin to talk again and focus on your relationship – all the while your spouse has no idea why the sudden change!

This week the book series was in the news when a library in Florida decided to ban the books from its shelves. Their reasoning was the book was pornographic and could be read by children searching the stacks. I’m not going to lie – the book has a lot of sex and is graphic in spots. It’s been an education of sorts for many (including me) who didn’t know a thing about the world of doms and subs. But it’s also a world of escapism much like the reality shows on TV, the racy movies, the entertainment fare we feed on in this country, or the outrageous cover of Time Magazine (ah, a topic for next time!)

Sometimes fantasy is better than the real world – if even for a little while.

New Beginnings

New Beginnings -that's the title of my post tonight and its definitely the theme of my life these days.

Several months ago I decided I needed a change in my life for my own well-being and for my family's. So I decided to join Weight Watchers -something that anyone who knew me when I was in high school never would have seen coming. I was always the skinny kid that was often asked if my parents ever fed me, or if I was anorexic. None of which was true - I actually always ate like a horse but was lucky enough to have great metabolism and genes until the birth of my oldest child.

Then Mother Nature decided I needed a good butt-kicking after years of scarfing down Big Macs and never gaining a pound. I gained 25 lbs with Joseph; but that was nothing compared to the weight I packed on after getting pregnant with twins. I topped out at 210 lbs; packing on close to 35 lbs. I weighed more than my husband! A frightening thought for someone who spent her whole existence hearing she needed to put on weight!

Luckily, after the girls were born I instantly shed 15 lbs but there was a lot more work to do since I still had the added weight from my son's birth. Instead of actually committing to doing something, I kept eating, hoping the solution was in that Quarter Pounder and fries. Of course it wasn't - instead I continued to put the pregnancy weight back on.

Until I realized my size 12 pants were getting quite a big snug and the idea of having to buy a size 14 almost put me over the edge. I no longer felt attractive and my healthy self esteem took a hit. I finally decided something needed to change. I had to put the Big Mac down before it literally killed me.

As luck would have it, there was a Weight Watchers group starting at work and I decided to join. I sat through the first meeting thinking this is a bunch of nonsense and there is no way this was going to work for me. I studied the WW companion food guide religiously and was meticulous about tracking my meals. And then the unexpected happened. I began to lose weight - a pound here and a pound there -until six months later I am down 20 lbs and still going. I'm not quite as militant now as I was in the beginning because I am finding what works best for me. And for the first time in a long time I feel great about myself and I look great! I still have another 10 -15 lbs to go but I am happy enough now to be able to fit in to a size 10 - something I haven't been since I got married 8 years ago!!! And since you always need to stay on track by reminding yourself of your goals and staying motivated, my new goal is to get into a size 8 by my 35th birthday next month!

And as I said it was new beginnings, the weigh loss has also spurred me to make some other changes in my life. After 10 plus years of working in non-profit Public Relations, I want to hang my own shingle. I have spent a lot of time in the trenches and it's time I start to work towards having my own consulting firm. So if you know of someone who is need of a good PR professional send them my way. I promise these new beginnings will lead to even better tomorrows! Oh, and P.S. I am so committed these days I haven't had a Big Mac in 11 months!!!!

10 Years Later

You can mark 9-11-01 as the day the world changed forever for all of us New Yorkers and Americans. Ten years later my own life has changed so drastically from where I was that Tuesday morning. I am now married with three beautiful children, living in our own home, and now married eight years. Our five-year-old just started kindergarten and tonight we started to tell him about the important anniversary that tomorrow brings. Of course he doesn't understand much beyond a bunch of bad guys hurting a lot of good, innocent people. As he gets older he will learn what Patriot Day is all about but it is my husband and my memory of that day that will really teach him what really changed that day.

I came across this entry in my journal from 9/9/02. I was compelled to write it so I would never forget what 9/11/01 was like for me personally and for all of us. It still holds true today -life is precious; treasure what you have for you don't know when it will be taken from you. Love one another and treat each other well and pray for all those families who mark this anniversary as the murder of their loved ones. On the 10th anniversary my family and I will go to church and pray for all those affected by this tragedy, we will fly our American flag proudly, and we will light a candle on our doorstep just like we did 10 years ago to show the world we can once again unite as we did then and we will never forget 9-11-01!

9/9/02 - Marking the First Anniversary- My Personal Account
It's hard to imagine the anniversary we are preparing to...preparing to what, exactly? Certainly not celebrate. I guess commemorate is more accurate. It's been one year since all of our lives changed. Some for the worst and some, for lack of a better word, for the better. We, who were not directly affected, learned to value and treasure our lives and our loved ones. And we counted ourselves lucky to be among such a disaster.

But one year has not faded the sadness that still consumes my thoughts. Each time I see footage of those buildings hit by the planes, and worse, to see them fall, I get an overwhelming feeling of sadness and despair. I'm quickly snapped back to one year ago, and I can clearly see how everything unfolded:

I believe as long as I live, I will forever have that day permanently etched in my memory. It was after 8:30 a.m on Tuesday, September 11, 2001. I was sitting at my desk at the Gurwin Center when the phone rang. It was my mother calling to tell me the Twin Towers had just been hit by a plane. It must have been just after 8:46 a.m. I was on the phone with her talking about how something like this once happened to the Empire State Building - did she know if it was small plane? Then quickly thinking nothing more of it, and putting it out of our thoughts we began to talk about other, less important things when my mother uttered a single scream, "Ay dios mio, they've hit the other tower!" I can still hear the shrill of her scream as she saw it unfold, like most New Yorkers, on her television set. We knew then it was no sad accident; it was a deliberate act. I asked her what was happening, what they were showing. She told me how both towers were billowing smoke and flames. I told her I would call her back in a little while.
I walked out to tell my co-workers and before you knew it, we were all huddled by the radio in our office, listening to continuing coverage of the horrors. I called Steve right away to hell him what happened, and he said he had no idea. He had heard something from a customer, but he had no idea what had occurred. Some us went to the main lounge where the TV had been turned on to the coverage. They kept replaying the footage of the second plane hitting the tower, because as chances had it, all the television crews were covering the first fire. One of the administrators asked us to return to our desks, so as not to alarm the residents. We complied and returned to listening to the radio. No one, at any moment could possibly have imagined what was to unfold. The news was reporting that there were rumors a plane had been hijacked from Boston's Logan Airport and from Newark Airport. Hijacked? How? Did that mean there were innocent people on those planes, not just suicidal maniacs? The thought was just too much.
Listening to the coverage on the radio gave us more of an opportunity to use our imagination -we were lucky we didn't see it on television. I called my mother back a half and hour later and the things she told me truly made me cringe. She said how they were watching the the coverage run live when people began to fall from the buildings. They were apparently jumping out, sometimes two at a time, sometimes holding hands. And each time, the television cameras were there to catch it on tape. What a gruesome sight to watch. It made you wonder what those people saw that made them think there was no hope but to jump out those towering infernos to a horrible death. I remember hearing the reporters on the radio screaming when they witnessed those deaths firsthand, it was truly sad. But of course, the worst was still to come.
As we listened to the radio, there was a second report of a plane hitting the Pentagon and the national mall. Still, other reports said a plan was heading down the Potomac River and there was no contact with the pilot. Another report said there was also a plane in Texas who had lost contact with Air Traffic Control. To us, listening in our small office on Long Island, it seemed like World War III had come to the States. We had no idea what to think. I just remember being very scared and calling Steve to talk to him. We just kept thinking, what's next? What target is next?
Shortly after 10 a.m. the screams of the people on street and of the reporters on the radio filled the air. The second tower had collapsed. We knew what that meant-it had collapsed on innocent people. It was just so unthinkable to believe the tower was gone. Immediately there was a call for all off-duty rescue workers, retired policemen, EMTs and physicians to rush to the scene to help. There was still no idea as to how many people were in the building or how many had escaped.
Planes were grounded and re-routed. All air traffic ceased and the major roads on Long Island, the LIE, Northern State and the Cross Island were emptied to make room the emergency workers. As the day unfolded, there was a confirmed report the Pentagon had been hit by a plane and was on fire. Then there was a report that a plane had crashed in Pennsylvania, killing all people on the board. We didn't find out until a few days later that those people died fighting the terrorists on board, stopping them from hitting into another building, possibly the White House. It was unfathomable at the time to think about these planes being used as weapons against us.
Meanwhile, back in New York, shortly after the second tower collapsed, World Trade Center's South Tower collapsed into the escaping crowds below. The radio reported the smoky fog that engulfed the more than 16 blocks around the Trade Center forced people to run down the streets, finding shelter where they could. You could hear the chaos at the scene, engines roaring, people screaming and crying, policeman yelling out "both towers have collapsed." It was a truly horrific sight to bear. We at the Center prayed silently to our own respective Gods. I prayed I didn't know anyone in there, I prayed for those killed, their families and the countless others who were hurt. I remember talking to my sister on the phone and she told me about her friend's brother who was missing from the South Tower. We later found out he had narrowly escaped after the second plane hit. Most of his co-workers did not, riding an elevator back up to their office and to their own deaths. This was a story told over and over again on the news, in the papers, on the radio - so many lives destroyed.
I remember leaving work that day and not being able to hear one single bird chirp or sing. It was as if nature itself had been silenced, perhaps mourning the thousands of deaths that terrible day. That night my family and I watched the television coverage non-stop, quieting the tv only when we heard planes flying overhead. The planes of course were the fighter jets protecting our Island from any other acts of terrorism. I went to bed that night, crying at all the things I had heard and seen that day and the realization that so many people didn't make it home to their own homes and beds that night. That many children went to sleep without their parents and many spouses waited all night for their loved ones to come home. But that was not to happen.
I awoke the next morning, hoping against hope it was all a terrible dream, but the reports were still streaming all over the television. Estimated reports said probably around 6,000 total dead at the World Trade Center alone, about 400 of them firefighters and policeman who had rushed to the scene to help in rescue efforts. I can remember scanning the papers each day to see if there was anyone I recognized. Thank God, no one, but so many desperate faces were draped across the newspaper pages, looking for loved ones who would never again return home. You clung to hope that people could still be alive down in that rubble. At least, you thought that until you saw what the rubble looked like and then you began to lose a little bit of hope, day by day.
For days, people across Long Island found ways to cope. On September 12, my co-workers and I went to St. Patrick's in Bay Shore for a special mid-day service. There was candlelight vigil across the whole nation on that Friday and everyone was asked to light a white candle on their steps. People began to raise the American flag, and before you knew it, every house and business was flying the flag. It was a comforting thought to see the country uniting, but it didn't lessen the sadness we all felt. People were nicer on the roads, if only for a few weeks after the events. But things were still quiet and the country thirsted for revenge on the terrorists.
Those first few days and weeks after September 11 turned into months and then suddenly, it was a year. It came too quickly, as if I had been asleep this whole year and am now waking from a terrible nightmare. But I know we must remember and be thankful for all those left behind - learn to value what you have in your life now, for you don't know when it will be taken away from you. And I am thankful - for my parents, my sisters, my nephews, my fiancee, my grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and all those in my life. I love them more than they could ever know. Remember September 11 and those who perished that day-pray for their friends, families and the country to get through it. God Bless America and New York!

Working From Home

Today I had the extra special pleasure of working from home. While that sounds like a great job perk, I neglected to mention one small detail. I was working from home while my three young children, all 4and under, were home from day care thanks to a teacher training day.

The first time I knew I would be in for a challenging day came when my 4 year old son snuck into my bedroom at 3 a.m. and nearly gave me a heart attack. Fast asleep, I suddenly heard the bedroom door open and could see no one entering. Of course, it wasn't until he was right next to my face that I realized I had a tiny intruder in my midst. After recovering from my near fatal heart attack, my son climbed into bed and demanded a drink of water. He explained he was thirsty because he had a bad dream- I guess his dream took place in a desert. BLeary-eyed and blinded by the darkness, I stumbled into the kitchen, passing my sleeping husband who dozed off on the couch, and poured my son a drink. As I trudged back to the bedroom to give him his water, he loudly exclaimed "NOT THAT CUP, MOMMY!!!" After some coaxing, lots of pleading and begging (mostly from me), he finally took the cup and fell asleep again. And I nestled back into my bed to regain whatever sense of sleep I had left in me.

The next harbinger of my day to come was my darling husband who thought he would forewarn me in case his alarm went off. His warning came at 6 a.m. in the form of a very loud bang as he dropped a few things looking for his cell phone. Thanks honey; I needed that.

After finally getting out of bed and bringing the twins down, we all settled down to eat breakfast. I thought to myself, maybe it won't be that bad. Maybe they'll just play and watch TV and I can get work done. Boy, was I kidding myself.

Breakfast only fueled their energy where they proceeded to enter the living room and jump all around the furniture. I tried to get the twins to go potty because we are in the midst of this great milestone. One hour later they were finally seated watching a program when my boss called about needing something immediately. No problem; I thought, I can handle this. I am full-time working mom and I can certainly get this together enough for one day. It took only 20 more minutes before I began to see this would not be an easy one.

Sami, who tricked me and certainly did not go potty when I thought she did,had an unfortunate accident on the recliner. Making sure Caroline would not follow, I ushered her into the potty and left her there while I quickly scrambled for some upholstery cleaner. This gave Joe just enough of slip in supervision to once again begin to dump his puzzle and legos out on the floor. When I came back in from getting the cleaner, my living room was beginning to look like a sitcom spiraling out of control.

After getting them settled yet again, I tried to balance the work again. There were photographers and designers that needed to be called and projects that needed to be done. When I finally realized it was lunch time, I thought, "yes, only one more hour until nap time!" "I can make it, I can make it," I kept repeating to myself.

All three were fed easily enough and the twins went down for a nap shortly after. Joe went down for a nap too - or he is at least pretending to nap and staying quiet. I can't ask for much more than that these days.

And finally, finally after all that I was able to sit and finish my work. But now I am tired and wish I could take a nap! How the heck do these stay-at-home moms do it??? I wouldn't survive one day! I can't wait to get back to the crab bucket tomorrow!

Being Thankful

Working at an agency that serves people with developmental disabilities, you often get reminded of how fragile life can be.
I remember when I was pregnant with my first child, how I avoided going down to the school where the younger children were because I didn't want that reminder. Being pregnant and facing the unknown was scary enough without facing the reality other parents who have special needs kids lived every day.

It took some time, but eventually I was fine again visiting the school and meeting children whose faces light up when they meet someone new. The children at school have a variety of disabilities - from Downs Syndrome to Autism, CP to TBI. Although it breaks my heart to see the severity of some of their disabilities, there is also profound hope and pure joy there. Today I had the pleasure of seeing the younger children perform a song for an upcoming performance.

One young girl brought me tears as I heard her sing "The Climb." She sang with such depth that there was no doubt in my mind she was thinking of her own climb up that mountain and all the trials she has been put through at such a young age. I did not cry because I pitited her; instead I cried because her singing brought joy to my heart. What ever disabilities she was born with, she had the very BIG ability to sing and stir one's soul.

So while, of course, I am very thankful that my own children were born healthy, and God-willing will always be, I am also thankful for the lessons these children teach me everyday. We may think life is hard for us because we've had a bad day at work, got stuck in traffic, or our children misbehaved. But these children have a ground-breaking day when they are able to do the simplest things we all take for granted. So be thankful for the things you have in your life and the people who fill your heart.