The time my mom died...and sent me a message back

March 15, 2015
Day 319

It started in Vermont.  We always went up at the end of August to the house we rent on Lake Pauline, but this time a few of us drove up for Columbus Day weekend.

I remember watching the leaves fall off the trees and into the lake, noting how some had already sunk beneath the water.  I stood there and just mused on the mystery of life, how everything has its season, and then it's gone, or at least gone from one reality to another.

We drove back home that Monday afternoon.

On Tuesday, my mom was rushed to the hospital with a heart attack, and she told the guys in the ambulance to just take her to the beach instead of the hospital.  I've since learned people who know they're near death begin talking about the journey they're about to undertake, but always within human terms.  They might reference a train ride or airplane trip, but never anything so melodramatic as a chariot coming down from Heaven.

Andy and I were at our friend John's place when I got the call she was in the hospital, but it was late in the day and she was still just getting checked out, so we decided to stay put.  We went in the next day to visit with her, on Wednesday after work, and though I couldn't have put it into words at the time, there was definitely something very different about her.  I told her at least twice how it was good the doctors caught this when they did, to put in the stents and save her, but after the second time, she had a very curious response.

"You keep saying that," she said, as she looked off at nothing in particular with a smile.  She was basically disagreeing with me in a very casual, non-confrontational manner, telling me that things weren't as peachy as they seemed, and she knew it.

I didn't go in again to visit her on Thursday, because I still believed she'd be fine, and then some time after midnight on Thursday night, the telephone rang in our house.  This couldn't be good.  It was just my sister Peggy and I living at the house at that point, and Peggy picked up the phone.  In bed, I listened carefully to the conversation from her end.  She hung up and then told me we had to go to the hospital.  "Your mother has stopped breathing," was all the doctor said, so we had to get there right away.  What does that mean?!  We didn't stop to really think about it.  We just made some very quick phone calls to other people, asking them to call others, and then we each set off for the hospital.

I drove to my sister Laurie's house first, where my brother-in-law Kevin thankfully offered to drive the rest of the way.  I sat in the passenger seat, and my sister Laurie went into panic-attack mode across the back seat.  I tried to stay calm and to calm her, saying that maybe they just had to notify us all of any problems along the way, but I was really just as lost and scared as she was.

By the time we reached the hospital and got to the floor she was on, I began running ahead of the others.  Far ahead of me, I saw my sister-in-law Tricia and my brother Billy already there.  I ran and ran, and as I got there, I saw them both in tears.

"She's gone," Tricia whispered, and I immediately collapsed onto the floor in tears.  One after the other, everyone else began arriving, each of us collapsing in our own ways onto the floor, on a wall, or into the arms of a loved one.  I prayed to my mom to send me a message or show herself, just as my dad had appeared to me after he died, but I couldn't even think clearly in the moment.

In the hour that followed, some of my siblings made phone calls to other family members from the hospital, and one of the nurses on duty approached me like an angel.  She was a former classmate of mine from elementary school and high school who I hadn't seen in 11 years.  (We're still connected now on Facebook, and today is her birthday.  Happy Birthday, Susana, and thank you for being there that night!)

Soon before we left, someone gave us a small bag of my mother's belongings, and I held onto it for safe keeping.  I remember sitting in a wheel chair out in the hallway (there were so many of us there by this point, and not enough seats in the small waiting room).  As I sat there trying to clear my head, I looked down slowly at the bag in my hands, and saw handwriting--my mother's handwriting!  She'd scribbled something out by her bedside.  I turned and looked at it carefully, and just saw the words, "I love you," written out in script.   

My God, I thought, she knew, and she wrote us a goodbye of some sort.  I opened the bag right away and looked at where I'd seen the words, but there was only a small picture of a heart there, a printed diagram on a booklet describing the stent procedure.  My mother's message from the other side was already gone, but the receiving of it was all that mattered.

I thanked her for the message, as I continue to thank her for it to this day.  One more I love you wasn't necessary, of course, but I really appreciated it all the same.

The potential for anything

August 31, 2014
Day 123

If evening is the time to allow our eyes to see unexpected light, and collect unexpected wisdom, morning helps us see what's right there in front of us all the time.

Here in the Green Mountains of Vermont, it's hard not to see all the beauty of nature around us at all times, but in the early morning hours here on Lake Pauline, I look out and see not just a pretty mountain scene, but all the potential for my day too.

As the early morning fog wafts across the lake and up the mountainside, it's as if the Earth itself is being recreated all over again.  Birds awaken and begin to call out, the sun climbs up over the top of the mountain rise, and takes a peek at what's going on, and all of nature, in all its chirps, squawks, quacks, and yawns opens their eyes to see what this new day might bring.

Today is Sunday, August 31, 2014, and it's 7:54 AM as I write this.  Tomorrow, I make my journey back down to Long Island, but today?  Today I have one more chance.

One more chance to experience a full day up here in Vermont, one more chance to appreciate all the beauty of this part of my beautiful country, one more chance to breathe in the mountain air and feel, as best I can, at one with nature.

Who knows what tomorrow may bring?  But for that matter, who knows what today might bring?  So as I greet this new day with you, let's both of us make a pact: let's make this new day something special.  Let's appreciate the potential for anything today.  Let us allow the new day to fully seize us, as much as we seize it.  And let us appreciate the power of ourselves in a world that's just now beginning to finally wake up.

Those quiet moments

August 30, 2014
Day 122

Even though I'm up here in the mountains, staying on a beautiful lake and basking in all that vacation brings, this isn't a retreat.  I'm here with family, and we're all trying to have a fun vacation.  Even though there are many quiet moments, they're not constant, so I try to grab them whenever I can.

Last night, I went out onto the deck around 8 PM, and laid down on one of the chaise lounge chairs.  The night sky had not yet fully revealed itself in all its glory, but a few of the brightest stars were already very clear.

I know so much of what I write is something you've heard before somewhere else, but I hope this reminder helps: sometimes only in the darkness can some light reveal itself.  We find our way well enough when the sun is shining and everything is hunky-dory, but when the day is at its darkest, new kinds of light are shone on everything.

In the darkness of 8 PM last night, I could still make out the lake and mountain rise in front of me.  I could see the occasional bat scavenging over the lake.  And I could still see all my surroundings, just differently.  In the darkness of evening, your eyes don't search for birds in the trees or fish in the water, and in the full darkness of nighttime, your eyes only look up, searching for new light, and new revelations.  The darker it gets, the more stars you begin to see.

Just as I escape the city lights to my resting place in the Green Mountains of Vermont, we all find clearer thinking and clearer sight sometimes when we're surrounded by the darkness.  Those quiet moments alone, away from the sounds of others, whether literal or metaphoric, are waiting for us everywhere.  To shut your brain down and begin to really see clearly, you need to shut off all the external distractions around you as best you can.

Your mind might still want to flip through a War And Peace-length novel of distracting thoughts, but if you turn out the lights and sit apart for a while, you might just convince that annoying brain of yours to listen to the silence, and appreciate the darkness.  As the darkness grows, the stars shine brighter, and they have something special they want to whisper to you, and you alone.  Give them a chance to tell you their story.

Vermont Vacation Musings

August 29, 2014
Day 121

I've been having a very nice time here so far, and still have another three days left.  Each morning, I'm up around 7 or 8 AM, I come downstairs and have my coffee and try to go online briefly (if the internet decides to work), and eventually have some breakfast and write this blog.

By 10 or 11 AM, I shave and shower, and get dressed for the day's activities.  Each day brings a new schedule or non-schedule, as the case may be.  I may find myself fishing, or playing a game of ladderball, or sometimes just writing.  Other times, we go off on little trips to nearby towns or activity spots in Central Vermont.  Weston was our first jaunt like this, and I went to the Vermont Country Store, the Christmas Store, and the little marketplace to buy some fresh fudge (in both Maple flavor and Carrot Cake flavor ...yum!!!).

Yesterday, a few of us went to the VINS bird sanctuary and the Quechee Gorge.  Today, we may go to the Okemo Mountain Adventure Zone to enjoy some miniature golf and the mountain coaster there (a small, easy roller coaster that winds down the mountain side, and you control the speed).  And this weekend I'll also hit up the top of Killington Mountain, where I pay for an enclosed gondola ride up to the top, then walk around a bit taking photos of the majestic views.

And in between all of this, there's more fishing and lots of relaxation by the lake.  I read, write, take photos, and just absorb the beauty of nature as best I can.

We plan our breakfast, lunch, and dinner on the fly most often, but I've already enjoyed some delicious meals courtesy of my sister-in-law Tricia and my brother Billy, as well as my sister Marilyn and her girlfriend Annie.  Aunt Jane and I haven't cooked, but especially in my case, that's probably a good thing.  I can boil and fry, but my culinary skills (of those I have) are sadly rare these days.

Bedtime is usually 11 or 12 each night, and is always preceded by stargazing.  Thousands of stars can be seen in the sky up here, so it's a really special treat looking up and seeing them all.  Amid the stars, I see planets, shooting stars, and satellites circling the Earth.  I even once saw the space station while I was up here, but haven't spotted it yet on this trip.

My Vermont vacations are always full, but filled with lots of quiet emptiness as well.  It's a special week or so I take every year to recharge my brain and body, and it's a very welcome transition trip between summer and fall.

Anyway, thanks as always for reading along, and I hope you'll keep "tuning in" for more of my daily musings from Vermont, as well as all my other destinations in the next eight months ahead!

All these creatures, great and small

August 25, 2014
Day 117

One of the fun things about making the trip up here to Vermont is that I see a whole lot more wildlife than I do back home.  On the trip up, I saw a deer, two groundhogs, a turkey, and the occasional horses and cows.

Since I've been here, I've mostly been close to the lake, so I'm more limited.  Still, I've seen ducks, finches, a cormorant, a blue herring, some crows, and even an eagle briefly.

None of that makes up for the creatures I want to see though!  For 30 years, I've seen signs for moose and bears up here.  The number of these creatures I've seen?  Zero!  Now I'm not saying I really want to see a bear, especially if I'm not in a car at the time, but you'd think in Vermont I'd see some moose by now, right?  The signs are all over the place, and you can't walk through a gift shop up here without seeing all manner of items with moose decals all over them.  Clearly, there are moose around here somewhere!

So though I'm happy seeing the cool birds and all, let me be very clear: I want to see a damn moose, already!  I don't care how many antlers it has, or even how far away it is from me; I just need to see it, damn it!  I don't need to photograph it or watch it eat.  I don't need to see it run away or do anything extraordinary.  I just need the frickin' thing to let me see it!

Moose, I know you're out there.  I will find you.  You've managed to evade me this long, but the time for hiding is now past.  This is the year.  I just know it!!!

(I hope.)

Vermont Vision

Lake Pauline in Ludlow, Vermont. August 24, 2014 around 8-9 AM. No filter.

August 24, 2014
Day 116

There's just something about this place up here in Vermont that makes us call it our home away from home.  I've been coming here for the past 30 years, minus four years in the late 90s when I was a monk.

The house we stay in is hardly four-star, but no one would ever advertise it as such either.  The accommodations are simple but comfortable, and the quality of services in the house would best be described as acceptable.  But no one comes here for the material used in the kitchen countertops, the majesty of the bathrooms, or the size of the TV anyway.  We come here for the atmosphere, inside and out, the memories and memories-in-the-making inside and out, and of course, the location.  Yes, location, location, location!

This view we have here is a constant, even though it changes all the time.  There's always a different "look" out there, whether it be in the way the water's moving, the place the ducks feel like playing, the number of (or lack of) people swimming or rowing by, and even the way the light hits the mountain.  Our singular view actually has a million different versions, and you never know what you'll see from one day to the next, or even one moment to the next.

So I think that's my lesson for today: vision.  Just as the view changes here constantly, so too does my life change from one day to the next, one year to the next.  I've got the same basic location in life all the time, but the scenery still manages to shift around me.  And maybe I'm learning slowly to look at things differently too.  No matter what stresses or challenges life brings my way, I always have the free will and free choice to look at it all however I'd like.  I can see the clouds and the stillness, and feel lonely if I'd like, or I can look around and feel the glory of nature in all its beautiful disguises surrounding me at all times.

This journey to age 40 is once again a journey of perspective.  And right now, especially heightened by this beautiful location, my perspective calls for sunny skies and lots and lots of happy thoughts.

I need you, Vermont!

Click for full view and then "x" out in the top right to return.

August 22, 2014
Day 114

Have you ever noticed how some vacations arrive right on time?  They seem to be timed perfectly to coincide with high stress points in your life, and are there as a treat at the end of a dark corridor.  Maybe it's like when you need to pee, and the urge only increases with your proximity to the bathroom.  Your urge to go on vacation only multiplies the closer you are to that moment.

Today, Friday the 22nd of August, I am in that moment.  My vacation awaits me beginning tomorrow morning around 8 or 9 AM. 

The last two weeks have been extra, extra crazy.  A family picnic, a Broadway musical, a midnight show at Studio 54, a New York International Fringe Festival play, a pool party, a lunch out with coworkers, and a wonderful Shamanism class: these were the highlights.  All fun, but all kept me busy this way and that, and were sadly punctuated by some less than happy occasions in between. 

Andy's Uncle Fai has been in the hospital with a critical illness starting in his stomach, possibly related to food poisoning.  He's gone from critical to serious to critical to serious a few times now, and though he's stable and possibly/hopefully mending now, the concerns are still high.  Andy and I have visited him in the hospital almost every day, and it's been very difficult seeing Fai like this.  He's only 67, but has resembled a man in his 90s at times.  Tubes everywhere, bags of medicine going in, other bags collecting what comes out, his hair all over the place, his eyes and mouth opening wide in what appears to be drug-induced visions all around him: it isn't pretty.

We've also got Andy's parents staying with us for the past week or so, and I must confess, that has also been quite difficult for me.  (Don't tell them, though!)  We love them both very much, but our small house is just that much smaller with double the people living there, especially with their different schedules and all of our hospital-visit time throwing things up in the air too.

Suffice it to say, I need my vacation!!!  Andy's uncle seems to be slowly on the mend, and both Andy and his aunt seem okay with me taking my departure, so I have no guilt in my escape.  I think having one less person in my house will help everyone a little bit anyway.  I've mostly kept my temper in check, but there have been moments when the thermometer on my head burst a little, my blood pressure spiked, my sleeplessness made me cranky, and, and, and...

Yes, Vermont!  I need you so much right now!  I can't wait to see the beautiful Lake Pauline again, as well as that adorable little town of Ludlow.  I am already craving the sacred peace and quiet my mind and body need so much right now, and all of it will be there for me starting tomorrow! 

Some vacations arrive right on time, don't they?  This one here has arrived right on schedule! 

So keep an eye on this blog now for my daily updates from Vermont, where I'll hopefully be writing a lot about peace, nature, and plenty of nice fun stuff like that!

The beautiful simplicity of synchronicity

June 3, 2014.......Day 34/365

This past Sunday, I had the opportunity to attend a rose garden party at my friend Mac's house.  Mac has been a dear friend of mine for many years now, and the rose garden his late partner Bob created, which Mac still tends to and cares for, is always a joy to see. 

It's won awards and been featured in newspapers and magazines, and it just never fails to take your breath away.  It really feels like a very spiritual place, and even for those who don't believe in something like spirit, it still satisfies the heart and mind just as well!

On Sunday, as I was talking with a few of the other people there, two separate conversations brought me to two completely different places and people in my life.

In the first conversation, I was speaking with a man I'd only met once before.  He and I had only spoken for about a minute last summer, but on Sunday we were sitting next to each other and chatting about all kinds of things.  At one point, he asked me about how I've chosen to live my life since leaving the monastery.  I mentioned a few things, one of which was my recent introduction to the world of Shamanism.  Well, as it turned out, this man has had some experience with that himself, so he asked me where I went.  I told him the location, but nothing registered for him. 

Then I told him the Shaman's name who runs the class I attend, and he lit up right away.  "I know John!"  He went on to tell me how he knew him and how long he'd known him, and it was just a very nice, happy conversation.  Here was a guy I'd only just met in the past 10 months or so, and we were talking about someone from a completely different part of my life who I'd likewise only gotten to know well in the past 10 months or so, and they knew each other!  It was very lovely and very cool.

About an hour or so later, I'm sitting in a different place now and talking to another man who looked very familiar to me.  It turns out, we'd met at a church function I attended at least six or seven years ago now.  So we got to talking about, of all things, Vermont.  "I go to Ludlow every year," I told him.  "Oh yeah, I've been up that way too," he said, "We stayed on a lake up in that area, Lake Pauline."  "That's where I stay every year!" I said. 

We talked more and more about where exactly he stayed, and it turns out, he stayed in the same exact house!  Not only that, but his mom, who's 98 years old now, used to babysit for the couple who own that house, who are themselves close friends of my aunt and uncle. 

The word coincidence is thrown around more often than synchronicity, but I've come to believe that synchronicity is an absolute law of the universe.  The more you open yourself up to the fact that so many of our experiences and people we know in life criss-cross with one another, the more you begin to actually see these invisible lines connecting us all! 

My greatest example of this happened several years back, but it's one of my favorites, so I'm saving it for its own blog entry!  Needless to say though, my life has been filled with these funny moments where I realize the person I'm talking with has some huge connection to some significant part of my life.  And it's always as if I'm pulled to talk to these people, as if God, or Heaven, or whatever you want to call it, has made it so we're in the exact same place at the exact same time. 

It really is beautiful!  It's so simple, but so beautiful.  And these invisible threads of the universe are always around, if you just keep your eyes open wide!

The unofficial start of summer

May 27, 2014

Well, it's finally back!  Summer!  It technically doesn't begin until June 21st, but it always feels very summery by this point in late May.

And as summer is unofficially beginning, I can't help but begin unofficially planning my summer vacations now too, which always, always, always include a trip to Ludlow, Vermont.  My family's been going to Ludlow for over 25 years now, and it's just one of my favorite places to be on Planet Earth.  We always stay on Lake Pauline, just outside of town, and it's become a truly sacred place for me. 

I even put Lake Pauline and Ludlow, Vermont in my second book, The Papal Visitor.  I just had to give the place a permanent spot in published literature, if for no other reason than pure selfish motives.  By having part of my story take place there, I can revisit the place anytime I pick up my book!

It's funny how so many of my reflections in this ongoing year-long series are just flashbacks, but it's really a testament to how much you can appreciate behind you in the rear-view mirror as you come up to a major milestone in the road.  By reflecting on years past, vacations past, I choose to honor their special place in my life history, and pause with gratitude for the special place in my heart they will always have for me.

Summer is often a time of year when we force ourselves to slow down a bit, when we take days off from work, or have time off from school, and just appreciate life and all its beauty.  And I'm all about that!  I try to do it year-round of course, but the warm weather certainly allows us to walk away from the computer more often, turn our backs on the desk at work and at home, and just really look around at the world around us.

I'll post more on Lake Pauline and Ludlow, Vermont in other reflections this summer, but as it's now unofficially summertime, I just had to unofficially bask in the awesome just ahead of me now!  We only get so many years in life, and only so many summers within those years.  So may the appreciation of summer now unofficially commence!