My Prayer: I did not write this. I found it in some old papers. I thought it was good advice! 


Lord, you know I am growing older.  Keep me from becoming talkative and possessed with the idea that I must express myself on every subject.  Release me from the craving to straighten out everyone’s affairs.

Keep me from the recital of endless detail. Give me strength to get to the point. Seal my lips when I am inclined to tell of my aches and pains. They are increasing, as you know, with the passing years, and the love to speak of them grows sweeter as time goes by.

Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be wrong! Make me thoughtful but not nosy; helpful but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom and experience, you have given me, it does seem a pity not to use it all. 

But you know Lord, I want to have a few friends in this life and the next

Amen 

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Voices from the Grave


Today, my husband gave me the rarest of gifts. It’s the sound of my late father’s voice.

My husband had rescued some old tapes that my mother had in her house. As we were clearing up the house in order for her to move into an apartment, he spotted the tapes. Having vague  recollections of making the tapes when I was little,  we kept them. We schlepped (dragged)  them from pillar to post for the last 30 years.  We could never find a machine to play them on -until last week.

My husband asked my collector type neighbor if he knew of a machine that would play old reel-to-reel tapes.  Now, my husband is one of those technical types. He has the magic touch with machinery.   So, he fiddled and fussed. He ran the tapes backwards and forwards. He spliced and diced them together. He did this for me.

“I think I have a tape of your nieces when they were little,” he said.

Knowing that my Dad had brought home the machine from his job as a publicity specialist in the Cleveland Police Department, I knew it was probably my “big sisters” and I. And then I heard him. My dad’s voice. He is telling us how to operate the machine. Then he is interviewing us. He uses his flowery English. I know it’s him. But it doesn’t sound like him. Maybe because he was 43 years old.

“Who is this black-haired beauty?” he says about my oldest sister. “Who is this beautiful blonde?” talking about my other sister. “And here is Barbie.” (Me.) He asks us questions. I sing the “Itsy Bitsy Spider”. I talk about going to Kindergarten. I count to 10, and say my address and phone number. We all sing songs together. I  faintly hear my mother in the background, suggesting things to ask.  Mom was always the director, and Dad liked it that way. I wish she would’ve spoken louder.

On the tape, we  all sound so happy. Our parents had a marriage to be envied. They clearly adored each other. She put on lipstick for him, and he repeatedly brought her flowers and candy. They kissed and hugged each other all the time. They rarely argued.

My father passed away short of his 65th birthday. I’ve outlived him by 2 years. My mother lived until 91, but she was never the same after he died. Such a determined person she went on with her life, but she didn’t smile or laugh nearly as much.

It’d been forty years since I’d heard his voice.

It’s a long time to be without that unconditional love. It’s probably why his voice was unrecognizable at first. Does every girl adore their father; remembering them as them most handsome and perfect Daddy in the world?

There was a little alcove on our first floor, leading into the kitchen. I would always excitedly greet my father with a huge hug when he came home from work. He worked several jobs, but it never felt like it. When he would come home late, he would always come in my room to kiss me goodnight. He would later say, “I came in your  room and you were pounding your ear. ”

So, to hear his voice again and have a recording of it is nothing short of a miracle.

I hope anyone reading this realizes that the sound of your loved one’s voice is really precious. In this world of technology, it’s so easy to do. Don’t forget. You never know where their voices may be silenced.

 

 

The Dulles Air and Space Museum:  the Discovery Shuttle and the Enola Gay are big exhibits


Going to an airplane museum is not something I longed to do, but since my husband is passionate about air power, I agreed to go. I am one of those people who likes to fly in airplanes, not look at them. Surprisingly, I found this museum worth my time. The museum is located in Chantilly, Virginia. (Not to be confused with the National Air and Space Museum located in DC)  Continue reading

Bill Cosby’s betrayal


 

Anybody in their 60’s remembers Bill Cosby from the very beginning. He used to be very funny. He told entertaining stories about growing up in Philadelphia with “Fat Albert.”

His next memorable show was  “I Spy.” There he was playing a partner to Robert Culp, and he was the coolest spy.

He had a very charming rapport with children. He had a show for awhile where he asked them questions, Art Linkletter style.  Then, there was the Pudding Pop commercials. It made you go out and buy them up.

The final show was the “Bill Cosby Show.”  Back in the 80’s, many families looked forward to watching that show together. Nobody was DVRing back then, and it was a great loss to miss an episode.

Lately, I noticed he wasn’t funny anymore

In the last few years, when I watched his stand up on TV, I noticed he wasn’t funny anymore. It was mostly him preaching. I wondered what happened, but I attributed it to just not relating to the average person any more. He had to be worth millions.

Now, that I’ve found out how he victimized so many women I am flabbergasted. Why would he do that? In reality, he could’ve had all the women he wanted. Why?  So many women coming out against him is hard to ignore. Except Cosby thinks they’re all making it up.

And he’s suing 7 of them? My guess is he’s in complete denial. Somehow, he’s rationalized the whole thing.

Sexually abusing a person, man or woman, is unforgivable.

I feel sorry for his wife and daughters, but he deserves to go to jail. I wonder if his celebrity and money will get him out of it. Is there a jury who will convict him?

What do you think?

The baby is 9 months today


Only 3 more months until he’s not a baby anymore! He is still happy, and knows us when we come in the door.

His Dad’s birthday is tomorrow, so we got to watch him while they went out to dinner.

My daughter got dressed up in a pretty blue dress. She wore her high heels, and she looked as pretty as her dress. ( I had a flashback to me and my high heels and long legs. Oh well, nothing lasts forever.)

The baby was pretty happy on the floor looking at his toys. He scoots around and goes after what he wants. No real crawling yet. I’m trying to remember when my children crawled, but I haven’t a clue. I think he’s right on schedule .

I did tell my grandson “Prince George took his first crawl last week, and he’s a month younger than you.” He didn’t seem to care.

He got tired during his nightly beverage and fell asleep on my shoulder. I know my days like this are really numbered. There is nothing sweeter than a little warm human baby snuggling on your shoulder. It really makes me feel needed. Don’t we all like to feel this way?

It’s funny, with your own kids you can’t wait for them to get a little older and independent. (Especially when you have 3 in 5 years.) With this child, I am savoring every minute.

I guess that’s another difference between parenting and grandparenting.

Seeing my bad behavior reflected in others : It’s never too late to change!


When I was a little kid, I used to tattle on my sisters,  even when they didn’t really do anything wrong. I’d say, “mommy she’s hitting me, or pinching me, or kicking me.” Sometimes those things would happen, but more often they didn’t. After all, siblings do regularly plummet each other.

One day I was playing at a neighbor’s house. I was about 7 or 8.  I distinctly remember sitting in a treehouse.  I was listening to the little sister constantly complain about her brother. I suddenly realized that was how I was acting. It didn’t make me happy to see my own annoying behavior mirrored back at me. After that day, I stopped the tattling.

Another thing I’m still not good at is accepting apologies. My husband can say, “I’m sorry” and I still go on. I think I’ve done that with other people too.

I took me until today to realize that is not good behavior. I won’t give you the details, but I apologized to someone about a minor infraction and they were still upset.

From this day on, I will be accepting people’s apologies. Really accepting them.

Who says it’s never too late to change? I’m 63 and 1/2.

Is there a behavior you display that you can change. Did you ever have one of those wake up moments.

My two older sisters and me!

My two older sisters and me!