Memories Upon Musings Help Sharpen the Soul

Have you ever touched upon a memory but no longer felt the same way you did when you first created it?  It’s like walking into an ambush of previously conceived thoughts as they erode above the mind and pour over into the summits of your heart; sort of how Mount Vesuvius's wrath wiped out the cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum.

 

After you shake hands with your memory and begin to embrace the familiarity of the notions which beam off of it, you are more disposed to get to know it all over again.  Only this time, things are much different because either you have changed, the memory has faded away a bit, or the memory itself has changed.  At least, this is what happened to me on a recent trip I took which left me bumping into some friends from my past. 

It had been a couple years since we all last collided but at one time in our lives, my mother and I were very close to these people.  I mean, as close as you can possibly get with waitresses, chefs, hosts, hostesses, etc. who have grown to appreciate and look forward to your company.  For most people, they don’t really strike up the desire or need to befriend those who are providing them with services.  However, my mother and I are far from being like most people.  We enjoy conversations and reaching out toward others.  Lately, it’s been a lot of reaching out.

 

But there used to be circumstances where we depended on the livelihood and vitality we surrendered to when it came to talking to people and drinking those all too familiar alcoholic beverages.  Gina; meet Dirty martini.  Dirty martini; meet Gina.  The two infuse to produce… BANG!  Illicit conversations, ego-boosting attempts at being the life of the party and a generosity which would only leave both my wallet and dignity empty by the end of the night.

This place we found our souls getting lost in as well our self-respect becoming buried knee deep in drunken stupors and going as far as those wooden paddle balls is known as Atlantic City.  It was our second home for over a decade; a free abode by the sea if you will.  This home was free in the sense that we threw thousands of dollars away each year in slot machines and roulette tables to keep our beach house afloat.   

 

However, now that my mother and I have been sober for two years, visiting Atlantic City was a whole different ball game.  One of the main reasons is... ding, ding, ding, ding, ding! You nailed it!  We no longer drink.  And when you don’t drink, there is hardly anything else to do unless you venture down toward the beach.  Obviously, this gal isn’t ready for beach combing season just yet since we are only smack dab in the middle of old man Winter. 

My mother and I wanted to see some of the old “crew” we used to sit and waste away countless hours of mindless talks with.  Don't get me wrong; at the time, we probably thought we were embarking on some legit ideas... like hover ground sneakers or opening up a half Columbian and half Chinese restaurant; no joke.  As we walked through the golden gates... I mean doors, to the good old diamond club (this is an elite membership which entitles you to eat and drink as much as you want for free as long as you spend at least 12Gs a year) my memories felt so familiar and yet, completely strange; all at the same time.

One of our favorite waitresses who I will refer to as Blondie walked past my mother and me twice without even recognizing us.  Now, we haven’t visited the club in over two years, but her not being able to tell who we were at first sent chills up and down my spine.  Were my mother and I really this unrecognizable now?  Had our image changed that much since Blondie last saw us? 

 

I couldn’t believe it either.

After we had explained everything my mother had been through before and after her liver transplant, Blondie confided in us how her daughter, who is only 21 years old, is currently suffering from liver damage due to alcohol and drug abuse.  She said her daughter is so far gone that she now has custody of her daughter’s four year old son.  Blondie further went on to tell us how she lost her ex-husband from alcoholic cirrhosis eight years ago.  My mother and I couldn’t believe the news she had unfolded for us that day.  The thing which blew me away the most was that after all this time, almost a decade to be exact, of knowing Blondie, not once did we ever hear about how sick her husband or daughter had been.  We also didn’t know that Blondie was a struggling alcoholic herself who has been sober for 10 years.

Were we really this loud before?  Had alcohol numbed our ability to cope and understand what was going on in the real world?  You bet your ass it did.  That is the thing about alcohol.  It looks all fancy when it’s dressed up in sparkly round wine glasses and most thirst quenching in those tall and frosted pints and beer mugs.  But they don’t advertise the adverse effects of alcohol; now do they?  Nope.  And even worse, we have people like Hoda and Kathie Lee glorifying it every single morning as we tune into their 10am talk show. 

 

After rekindling the lost memories and making some new sober ones with our old friends, I decided to go for a run overlooking the bay of the casino.  I had a beautiful view and even though it looked the same, it couldn’t have been more different than anything I had seen or experienced before.  There was no drunken sweat running down from my forehead and seeping toward my drenched, wet and rancid chest.  There was no feeling of numbing thoughts bouncing from the waves of my stride only to go as far as the statute of limitations alcohol once limited everything to.  It was different in a way which left me completely and utterly wide awake.  The alertness scared me because I was ashamed of all of the wasted time I had once spent thinking I knew everything when clearly, I didn’t have a clue. 

I’m sure by now, you have all heard that Philip Seymour Hoffman passed away this past Saturday from a drug overdose.  He was only 46 years old and sadly, another human being whose imprint on this world was stolen away by the effects of addiction.  I’m not here to preach; however, if I can teach someone something by showing from example, the battle is half won.  I might not be able to change the world but if one person gets it, then my musings are never wasted.  And I can thank my own current state of being for all of the writing I have returned to which I left shortly after I graduated college. 

 

I currently rely on my memories to keep me straight and aloft as I continue to grow not only as a writer, but as a human being.  I’m concentrating on my children’s work, a novel, and most importantly, trying to remind those who are struggling we don’t have to let our past define us by allowing our memories to become permanent handicaps.  When we are awake, everything is anew.  The world is filled with endless opportunities so make this day and every day yours.  Own it like you do all of those memories; the good and the bad.  Bad memories can often turn into something good because they become the soul-purpose for us to want to be better people; not just for ourselves but for others to watch, observe, and strive to be like.

And remember; just because something is advertised doesn’t make it right.  So less drinking wine with Kathie Lee and Hoda while ironing and more focusing on why you are here and how you can contribute to becoming a part of this once in a lifetime chance to actually be ALIVE. 

 

Fruit Stands, Cheese Steaks, and Snow Crystals

When I was a child, my Daddy C owned a fruit stand on one of the busier, main roads in South Philly.  It was just steps away from where the famous shots of Rocky Balboa would run through the streets… inspiring bystanders by his perseverance and dedication to become a machine.  A machine that would train so hard he could knock almost any man off of his ostensibly righteous feet; fighting for the one big title that would set him apart from all of the rest. 

 

Daddy C didn’t like to fight and he surely didn’t look kindly upon us arguing or making a big fuss as kids.  And what parent does, right?  To keep a close eye out on us, he would bring my sister and me to work with him.  I remember working at his fruit stand, right off of Broadway and across from my Uncle Nikki’s cheese steak shop and restaurant.  As a ten year old girl, I’d much rather had been sitting on one of those circular, metal stools, spinning round and round, listening to my Uncle Nikki’s seemingly interesting and entertaining whales of stories than working the fruit stand.  As much as I loved my Daddy C, I’d take the smell of cheese steaks and meatball parmesan sandwiches over the fragrances of old ladies and men who took their time looking over the fruit at my father’s stand. 

 

I remember how exceedingly long it would take Dad’s customers to pick out their own fruit; how each person would grab an apple or pick up a pear and make sure there were no signs of rotting or unnecessary scratches on them.  I would just stand there, staring off into the places beyond the fruit stand, trying to imagine a life or a story beyond the streets of Philadelphia.  As my mind would begin to wonder off, the smells of the city folk, smoke and loud unforgettable shouts between my father and the construction workers or pizza shop owners and police would quickly remind me where I was.  At that time, I didn’t care much at all for the fruit stand.  My, how your heart changes with the delicacy and fondness of your memories as they grow and transform with you. 

 

During the winter time, it was a bit too harsh outside for us to be working all day with my dad.  Since my mother was divorced from him at the time and living with my step-father in Jersey, Daddy C would have to watch us on his own while we visited.  My Uncle Nikki’s cheese steak and sub shop was located right across the street from the fruit stand.  I recall some of my most kindred memories as a child there was being watched and cared for by my Aunt Roe.  Her real name was Aunt Rose but Aunt Roe suited her personality and loud and wild character.   

My Aunt Roe had an alluring way about her with her charming but vicious personality and hard yet strikingly beautiful face.  She had struggled with drugs and alcohol since she was a teenager but those demons never separated her from the love she was capable of giving to us and her own children.   My Aunt Roe never have much, money wise, and had lots of mouths to feed.  She was the mother of four at the time and three more would come later, after my days with Daddy C would soon end. 

My father was her little brother and favorite at that.  When he died, I can’t tell you how much his death affected her.  She was never the same without him in her life and to this day, she still isn’t.  My sister and I were always Aunt Roe’s pride and joy because her brother was irreplaceable to her.  It’s almost as if we still resemble the remains of him which she would never get back because of his death.

 

On days where the cold was just too severe for us to be outside with Daddy C, Aunt Roe would bring one of her many jugs of change over to Uncle Nikki’s restaurant.  The three of us would sit there on the cold, silver restaurant stools and count my Aunt Roe’s change on the long counter located in front of his sub shop.  There was no television by the counter or stereo so this was the perfect excuse for my Uncle Nikki to go on about the history of the world or the legacy built behind the stars in the sky. 

I remember thinking how smart my Uncle Nikki was… like he should have been a history professor or some museum tour guide instead of an Italian cheese steak and sub shop owner.  He always had this laugh and jolliness about him.  And he told his stories with his hands like many Italians do.  I can still see him, standing behind the counter in his white t-shirt and jeans, shaking his hands around, helping out the other customers sitting at the counter while telling his nieces these epic tales of discovery and history; taking us back in time and to far off places other than the cold, winter streets of Philadelphia.

 

As my Uncle Nikki would tell us his tales, we would count the change my Aunt Roe carried around with her in her jug.  My Aunt Roe may have been a struggling addict but she respected her brother enough to pay for our meals whenever she would babysit us.  So there we were, sitting up on the restaurant stools, counting change to pay for our cheese steaks or meatball subs, and listening to Uncle Nikki go on about how snow crystals form or how General Sir William Howe was successful in driving General George Washington out of New York City throughout the winter months of 1777 during the American Revolutionary War.

Aloft in the clouds, water vapor chills enough that its molecules cling together in tight order to form crystals.  Differences in humidity and temperature cause crystals to diversify into fantastically branched stars, divided prisms, needles and other forms.  At just below freezing, the sides of a crystal expand faster than the top and bottom, promoting flat plate shapes. At lower temperatures, between 14 and 27 degrees, crystals tend to stretch into needles or solid prism shapes. Increasing humidity leads to more branching. The growth mode can switch back and forth as temperature and humidity change, shifting the shape at every step… quite magnificent, no?

 

Just like these intricately woven snow crystals, we as human beings, are elaborately pieced together by the biological bonds and formulas in science from the inside and out.  Not only do our bodies change or conform to what we choose to put inside of them but our growth, both intellectually and spiritually, is affected by either a learned homeostasis or an eruption in the our behavioral pattern caused by bad choices such as the wrong diet, excess drinking, not exercising, too much tanning, overmedicating, etc.  We have the choices and capabilities to take what God has created, just like the snow crystals, and allow them to branch out toward things like our health, dreams and goals or falter like withering flowers and the melting snow.

A few months ago, I told you how my mother’s new liver would eventually fail on her due to complications in the flow of blood from the ducts in the liver to the rest of her organs.  These ducts would continuously get clogged, forming abscesses on the new liver.  She knew this and even though this news was handed down to her, her will to get better and persevere presented new conditions surrounding her blood flow and body.  This past Friday, when she left the doctor’s office for a routine exam, she called me to deliver some incredible and what had once seemed to be, impossible news.  Her liver had formed brand new ducts on its own so the blood flow could create a level of homeostasis in her body.  We had again, witnessed another miracle. 

The body, like those same snow crystals my Uncle Nikki once told us about, can either melt or fade away because of the affects of outside changes… or it can branch out and flourish by the surroundings and positive attitudes we choose to create for ourselves.  Our bodies are accompanied by all of the organs and millions of tiny, immaculate parts; therefore creating these snow crystals of feelings, emotions, memories, good and bad health, sense of being and belonging…everything.  We are all of this and more, and the mind and heart are capable of making endless changes.  The only limits we have are the ones we set for ourselves. 

So please… never give up on anything without a positive mindset and willingness to fight for what is rightfully yours:  good heath, happiness, understanding and knowledge, and most importantly, the gift of forming your own masterfully constructed snow crystals. 

 

The Christmas Spirit

December 26, 2013; a day which seems pretty regular to most people as they prepare for gift returns, spending more time with family members if they aren’t too busy with work, eating leftovers, finding activities to keep the children busy during their holiday break from school…the list goes on.

For my mother, December 26^th will be a day she will always remember as she bears new fruits and embarks on added journeys which God and time have been so kind to bequeath upon her.  Because it was on this very same day back in 2012, she received a new liver and ultimately; her new life. 

Christmas Day was a completely different experience for us this year because during the previous holiday, my mother was basically a zombie as her soul shadowed around us.  Most of her energy had already abandoned her body and left it to fend for itself.  My mom struggled to walk, speak and eat with us on that bitterly cold, desolate and borrowed Christmas Day.  Unable to smile and laugh because liver disease numbs one's facial expressions, my mother was already a memory.  She should have been dead by this time since the doctors had given her a year to live in November of 2011. 

As her soul danced around us, an angel must have been parading throughout the house with our memories; trying to find reason to keep my mother alive.  This angel must have felt the energy in the house that day; an energy strong enough thanks to the determination and gratefulness of my mom’s soul.  This angel must have rushed up to God’s mercy and put in a good word for her as our family quietly sought out more time for our irreplaceable mother. 

And God did just that.  He granted this angel his or her wish (I’m still not sure which one of our beloved ancestors was there day) and sent a liver to Lady of Lourdes hospital for my mother on December 26th, 2012.  We don’t know where the liver came from or who the donar was but one thing is for sure, as God granted one angel’s wish, He welcomed another into His Kingdom.  I believe in doing so, He knew my mother still had work to do here for Him and since this angel was so convincing, a priceless exchange was made and the fate of my mother was changed in the favor of God’s gracious and merciful hands. 

 

My mom’s work has begun as her story has already changed the lives of people who have been struggling with alcoholism.  She is helping people to understand that this isn’t just something one decides to engage with each and every single day.  Alcoholism is a disease; it’s an entity which takes control of one’s mind, heart and soul.  It engulfs you, takes a hold of you, and ultimately, defines who you become. 

God has a plan for each and every one of us.  However, when we allow certain demons and false freedoms to get in the way of our work for Him, the plan withers away with every drink we take or ungodly mistake we choose to make.  For a long time, I wished that alcohol didn’t have such an incredible hold upon me.  Every morning I woke up after a night of binge-drinking, I told myself I wouldn’t drink that day.  Inevitably, the disease won every single time as I found myself succumbing to a bottle of wine each night.

Consequently, seeing my mother healthy and filled with love and an unexplainable newfound energy is more than I could have ever imagined this Christmas.  The Christmas spirit is about giving to others and helping mankind as we love and support one another (it took me sometime to discover the spirit this holiday only because I witnessed so many not celebrating its true meaning). 

So our Christmas gift to you is our story which we can only hope and dream will help change the lives of people who are struggling with this disease or striving to understand that it is in fact, a disease.  There are many people out there who don’t think alcoholism is a disease.  Hell, I didn’t think it was until I saw my mother bleeding from her veins, bruised, blown up like an elephant, as yellow as a banana, and STILL DRINKING.  I didn’t think it was a disease and heck if I had a problem or would even admit to it if I did because I thought I had everything under control.  The thing is, nobody has this illness under any kind of control until they realize it is a sickness and they need to get rid of the sickness to understand they desperately need help. 

I recently shared with you my step-father was remarried this past summer.  Over the holiday, my mother and I spent some time with my dad’s new wife.  My dad is still struggling to understand how the disease works but his wife, Lovely L, had the same internal fight as she watched her own mother’s rise and fall with alcoholism.  She watched her mom suffer and fall into a coma from liver failure.  Lovely L also confided in me that she knew exactly what my mother had struggled with.  God works in mysterious ways and because my mom hurt my dad, just as I disappointed one of my own past loves and best friends, he has laid out our work for us and plotted certain people within our paths.  People who will continue to help us rise to the occasion and surround my family with the love, beauty and strength it needs to conquer whatever obstacles lies ahead.  I believe Lovely L will eventually help my dad to forgive my mother someday; a forgiveness which can only manifest in his own understanding. 

 

Even though I was given a gift which was well worth more than anything a person could receive, my soul still wasn’t completely satisfied because of the disappointment it had found in what it thought to have been its counterparts.  However, I was quickly reminded that the Christmas Spirit comes in all shapes and sizes.  This year, it was a simple understanding of the work my mother and I have to do here for others.  The Christmas Spirit lies within the simplicity of the world, the kindness in gestures, and the engaging with new and incredibly understanding people.  It lies within people like my dad’s new wife who even though has the privilege of taking on the added baggage of a new family and all of its problems, sees past all of this and welcomes everyone with open arms.  The Christmas Spirit is giving love to one another which is one of the most beautiful things God has always asked us to do.  And in doing so, we, as human beings, are capable of carrying the burdens of others as we help to eliminate prejudices, hatred and misunderstanding which come from the days that lead up to Christmas. 

 

On this day and every day which lies ahead, I hope to take what I’ve learned and carry it with me for all of the days to come.  Not just on Christmas but on every single occasion here on after.  We are all brothers and sisters here…mothers, fathers, sons and daughters.  There is no room for adandonment and even less time for misunderstanding.  Get it right and if someone isn’t going in the right direction, take their hand and show them the way.  I love you all!  And have a Very Merry After Christmas!

 

The Gift of Gratitude

Last week, I read a post on Beverly Diehl’s blog addressing the word “gratitude.”  You can read her entry here:  www.writinginflow.blogspot.com  Beverly’s writing really enabled me to look past some recent events in my life (mostly to do with relationships within my family) and reflect about the impeccable gifts God and the Universe have kindly bestowed upon me instead. 

 

Around this time last year, as my family was preparing for Thanksgiving, I was preparing a eulogy for my love…my soul mate…my everything…my mother.  On Thanksgiving day, my mom was rushed to the hospital due to complications of a decaying liver.  It had failed on her just one year prior to Thanksgiving in November, 2011.  The doctors had given her one year to live because once the liver fails, there is no medicine nor holistic healing that can reverse or cure it.  Liver failure ultimately leads to death unless a new liver can be provided by an organ donator. 

My mother ordered my sisters and me to not come to the hospital on that frigidly cold and untimely holiday.  Even in her most lonesome and dreaded hours, she would have sacrificed more time spent with us for our own personal pleasures and obligations.  As much as we fought with her to spend mere moments in the hospital by her side, she insisted that we enjoy our Thanksgiving with my step-father, Daddy P.  My 84-year old grandmother, however, did not budge.  She held her daughter as a mother would hold their infant child in her arms while the hands of time crept slowly over the hospital windows.  My mother’s condition made it seem like she was an infant again; unable to speak in full sentences, go to the bathroom on her own, and think cognitive thoughts because of the toxins infiltrating her head.  Since her liver had deteriorated so badly, it was hard to understand even the simplest gestures she tried to convey to my grandmother and the nurses that day. 

I remember sitting there in the family room of Daddy P’s house and looking around at everyone.  Some were laughing and exchanging stories with each other while others were glued to the television watching an array of Christmas movies.  I started to reminisce about all of the irreplaceable memories I had of my mother and my step-father growing up.  They always seemed to make the holidays unforgettable for us and moments like this were kindred remembrances of the way things used to be before my mom had started drinking.  Life wasn’t perfect but there was always something beautiful and meaningful about my childhood.  During the holidays, I’ve learned to let go of the dark and horrible past and instead, be grateful for the wonderful times we did share as well as the future ahead.



But it was also during this time that I had started to write a eulogy for my mother.  I still have it filed away in one of my notebooks right next to my desk.  This tribute was an epic story about my mom and all of the love and adoration her life and her kind heart always intended to give to others.  I wrote the eulogy to serve as a dedication to my mother and everything that made her such an inspiration to me; both as a child and woman today.  I wanted it to be a constant reminder to everyone she didn’t just consume alcohol but alcohol consumed her.  It provided an escape for her and unfortunately, her tired and beaten soul wasn’t strong enough to fight back and shake the demons off of her shoulders. 

I mentioned this before in one of my posts about a stereotype in which alcoholics are mean, self-serving and filled with hatred and unkindness.  Although sometimes, this can be true (I know because I have seen it in others), my mother was nothing like this.  She was always trying to please others by putting her needs aside.  My mom was the type of person who would literally give the last dime in her wallet to purchase things we needed for school or after school activities, even if it meant she would be broke.  My friends have always adored her because they have seen the good in her which was only numbed by her alcohol consumption.  There were times when she would “change” into a different persona when her drinking exceeded well passed a quart of vodka.  But when it came down to it, she would have died for my sisters and me and given anything to make sure her family would always be taken care of.

 

After Thanksgiving passed, Christmas quickly came and my mother was very sick during this time.  She could barely walk on her own but somehow, her will to spend one last holiday with us overcame the odds of her being in the hospital for one last time.  She looked like a zombie, unable to hold a conversation and so yellow, she could have dressed up as a banana for Halloween.  Her belly was extremely bloated and appeared as though she was going to give birth to triplets.  My mom was also so horribly ill on Christmas that ultimately, she had to be rushed to the hospital the very next day. 

 

This was my mother on Christmas Day, 2012

You can see how decrepitly far from normal her appearance looked.

 

 

I didn’t see the following epiphany back then but it resonates throughout me now.  My mother was granted two wishes last year:  one; to be with her loved ones for a final time on her most beloved holiday of the year and two;  the miracle liver transplant she would need to spend many more holidays here, with all of us. 

When I read Beverly’s post and took out the eulogy and started reading it to myself, gratitude came banging down my incredulous walls.  After pondering and bickering to myself about what was lacking in my relationship with both my biological and step-fathers, I quickly mustarded up the fortitude my heart always contained but recently, forgotten.  Why was I so caught up on people who obviously weren’t as caught up on me when I had an amazing gift right here, bubbling all around my body?  The gift of gratitude was something I never asked for so I simply overlooked this eternal power of praise and glory.  It was literally shining through my windows with every speck of sunlight and view of a sky full of time which was handed down to me from the grace of God.

There are so many things I am grateful for this Thanksgiving.  First and foremost, having my mother here with me for however much more time God is willing to share her is invaluable.  Even though she has some complications and a prognosis that doesn’t seem promising, God seems to have his healing hands laid kindly upon her.  None of us know when our time will come but until then, let’s be thankful for the things we do have instead of beating ourselves up over the things we have no control over.

I won’t list every single thing I am appreciative for within this post.  I’m going to save those for my grateful jar; thanks Beverly!  I will, however, say this… speaking to others whether they are children when I’m visiting schools or helping to spread awareness to adults about the disease that almost killed my mother have been two gifts which I am proud to say I am grateful for.  I am so excited my mother will not be spending another Thanksgiving in the E.R. or Christmas week in a hospital bed, waiting for another liver transplant.  I’m happy to say that life isn’t so bad and thank you Jesus for blessing mine with the beautiful people in it as well as the wonderful ones I am so lucky to meet here. 

This is my mother now.

 

How do you feel about the word “gratitude.”  Is there anything you are grateful for?  How has your attitude changed over the years when thinking about the things you should always be thankful for?

Sunshine Blog Award!

I recently received the Sunshine Blog Award from author, Chrys Fey.  Woo woo!  You can visit her blog by clicking on the following link: http://writewithfey.blogspot.com  I am truly honored, Chrys!  Sending many thanks and positive vibes your way.  I’ve never received a blogging award before so I am thrilled to be sharing this with everyone!

 

The Sunshine Blog Award is passed on by bloggers to other bloggers who “positively and creatively inspire others in the blogosphere.”  There are a few rules that every blogger nominated for this award have to follow:

1.       Acknowldege the nominating blogger with a link and post about your award.

2.       Share 10 random facts by answering the questions the nominating blogger has created for you.

3.       Pass on the Sunshine Blog Award to other bloggers (up to 10) of your choice and let them   know you nominated them.

4.       Post 10 questions for the bloggers you nominate to answer on their blog.

Questions Chrys asked me:

1.      When/Why did you create your blog?  I created my blog so I could use my own experiences to help others.  Whether they are struggling with addictions or trying to find their way in this world by realizing their potential and making their dreams come true, I wanted to contribute my part.  My journey as a writer began as a small child and then was lost when my mind was persuaded and controlled by my recluse decisions.  I reclaimed my talents and ambitions of being an author when I no longer was impacted by those entities. 

2.      What is the one blog post you feel is the best one you have ever posted?  I actually have two favorite blog posts.  The first one is the very first piece of writing I posted called, “Where Do I Begin?”  This is where I found myself at the most vulnerable time in my life when my mother had received a life-saving liver transplant just seven months prior.  It took me some time to let all of my emotions and days of self-reflecting settle within my writing.  I knew I had to share my mother’s story in order to help save others from making such incredibly dark and desolate mistakes.  My second favorite post is the one I most recently wrote, “Only If For A Night.”  Not only do I want to help inspire people through my blog, but I also want to illuminate my passion which is my writing.  I love composing poetry, fiction and non-fiction, and children’s books. 

3.      What are some of your favorite blogs?  Some of my favorite blogs to read are Message in a Bottle (http://messageinabottleblog.wordpress.com/) Writing With Fey (http://writewithfey.blogspot.com) Love, Life, and Everything Else! (http://funnygirlsmemoirs.blogspot.com) Rachel in the OC (http://rachelintheoc.com) and Anthony Otten (http://www.anthonyotten.com/blog.html)

4.       When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?  When I was little, I wanted to be a teacher when I grew up.

5.       What is your biggest accomplishment to date?  My biggest accomplishment so far has been the release of my first children’s book which I published under a pen name.  I absolutely adore all of the wonderful kids I am privileged to spend time with during my author readings and presentations.  It is truly an honor to visit with them and know how much of a positive influence I can be on their own unique talents and creativity.

6.       Do you have any pets?  Because our condo association does not allow pets, unfortunately, we do not own any.  One day, we’d like to rescue two dogs.

7.       Where do you live?  I live in a nice little town nestled in between New York City and the mountains of northern New Jersey.  We have the best of both worlds here because every morning when I wake up to do my writing, I have an impeccable view of the skyline over the hills and trees.  It is truly magical.  If we feel like having dinner or even taking a walk or stroll in Manhattan, we simply hop on the train and are there in less than an hour.

8.       Favorite Books?  My favorite books are older historical and romantic fiction like Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, Memoirs of a Geisha, and Little Woman.  I also love to read poetry and have recently gone through Selected Poems by Gwendolyn Brooks which I really enjoyed. 

9.       Favorite Movies?  I have so many favorite movies but if I had to choose, I would list the ones that I could watch over and over again.  They would include Thelma and Louise, Braveheart, The Last Samurai, House of Flying Daggers, The Goonies, Coming to America, Memoirs of a Geisha, The Painted Veil, Machine Gun Preacher, The Vow (newly favorite), Trading Places, Willow, and Finding Nemo.

10.   Favorite TV shows?  American Horror Story: Coven, The Following, Two and a Half Men, Last Man Standing, Two Broke Girls, Modern Family, Game of Thrones, Piers Morgan, Chelsey Lately, Golden Girls, Rosanne, and Law and Order.

 

My Nominees for the Sunshine Blog Award (in no particular order)

·         Anthony Otten (http://www.anthonyotten.com/blog.html)  Anthony’s writing is very eloquent and brings peace and solace to the reader’s soul.

·         Paul (http://messageinabottleblog.wordpress.com/) Paul’s blog is very raw, articulate and honest.  His experiences are inspiring and readers are sure to be moved by his metaphoric writing and endearing stories. 

·         Dawn (http://funnygirlsmemoirs.blogspot.com/) Dawn’s blog is warm, funny, and straight from the heart.  You can’t help but to laugh at some of her stories and at the same time, cope with her recent pain and loss of an amazing and unforgettable person; her mother. 

·         Chrys Fey (http://writewithfey.blogspot.com) I know I was nominated by this wonderful author and fellow blogger, but her posts deserve a great amount of praise and credit.  Chrys dedicates so much of her time and passion into helping other writers with their writing so I can’t help but to pass the torch back to her.  Her writing is extraordinary, and I can only see endless possibilities and success for my friend!

·         Beverly Diehl (http://www.writinginflow.blogspot.com) Beverly is so openly honest, dedicated, passionate, and has such a wit about her that I couldn’t help but to nominate her for this award.  You can tell she puts a lot of time and effort into her posts and I am always left with something to take away from her writing.  Always entertaining and meaningful whenever I pop over there!

• Brenda Moguez (http://www.brendamoguez.com/)  Brenda's writing is quite intriguing as she navigates her way through life by the means of her passion and pen.  I always enjoy reading whatever is on Brenda's mind!
• Quanie Miller (http://www.quanietalkswriting.com/)  I know Chrys nominated her, but I had to give her credit as well!  It's always a delight to swing over to Quanie's blog and read her writing.  She also has a new book out called, "It Ain't Easy Being Jazzy."  Be sure to check it out!
• Claudine (http://www.carryusoffbooks.com/blog.html) Claudine is such a sweet and kind soul and you can see how much she adores both reading and writing just from glimpsing at her blog.  She is always sharing such wonderful reviews, stories, and important information with her audience.  
• Rachel (http://rachelintheoc.com)  Rachel is such an inspirational author/blogger that I couldn't help but to include her for this award.  She is always posting such incredibly honest and useful posts, not only about her own writing, but tools to help other writers reach their potential.  She also created the hashtag #Mondayblogs on Twitter which is super awesome of her as she is constantly helping others by retweeting their blog links.
• Kelly Hashway (http://kellyhashway.blogspot.com/) Kelly is an astounding author and blogger who always has something going on over at her blog!  Whether she is sharing her daily dose of Kelly's world or helping others by hosting magnificent reviews and blog hops, Kelly's website is the place to be! 

I would truly nominate every blogger out there because besides the ones I have listed, there are numerous others who I visit each week.  I laugh, cry, get inspired and acquire the help I need within my own ventures in writing as I read their posts.  If I didn’t list you here but I usually leave comments on your blogs, that means I highly enjoy your writing=)

The 10 Questions for My Nominees

1.       Why did you decide to create your blog?

2.       What do you enjoy most about blogging?

3.       Tell us something about yourself that most of your fellow authors/bloggers do not know.

4.       At what time of the day do you do most of your writing?

5.       What is your favorite cuisine?

6.       What are some of your favorite books?

7.       What are some of your favorite movies?

8.       If you could travel anywhere right now, at this very moment, where would it be?  Why?

9.       If you could have an intimate dinner with six people who you will probably never meet in this lifetime, who would they be?  Why? (they could be celebrities, famous icons, bands, etc.)

10.   What has been your best achievement to this date?


Congratulations everyone!