A Mother's Day Card

                                                                

I went shopping for Mother’s Day gifts for my daughter, but while searching for the perfect card for her, I couldn’t help noticing all the cards that would have been perfect for my mom. I guess, I can still buy the card and leave it up in the attic, but...

My parents are no longer alive. This should classify me as an orphan, even though I am older than dirt, but even though both my parents are dead; they haven’t gone to the great beyond. Maybe, it’s because I am the eldest of their four children, or maybe it’s because they liked my house, but for whatever reason, they have taken residence up in my attic. I have some of their belongings stored up there and in the basement, but the attic is where they stay until they take it into their heads that they want to visit my sister Lucy or my daughter, then off they go.

                                                            

My sister Lucy will usually call me up to let me know that she has company and the same thing goes for my daughter who is a ghost magnet for the entire deceased members of the Maratea family. The fact that my mom and dad hang out together is hilarious because they hated each other while alive. They were divorced and proud of it.

They were not easy people to live with. Both had OCD. Both were a little bit crazy. I guess I can compare my childhood and that of my siblings as resembling the Addams Family. Normal was not a word to describe my family. If you don’t believe me you can check out my blog about growing up with Fred and Lucy here.

My mother had issues. I loved her, but her issues were a double edged sword that caused me to pull away when she needed me the most. I find myself missing her in spite of her issues which made her extremely paranoid and distrustful of her own kids. My mom and dad tell me about Heaven and how it’s nothing like the church has been brainwashing us with. GOD is more forgiving than they expected and HE is not into religion; never was; never will be.

                                                              

In Heaven, Mom was able to understand her issues and come to an understanding of her life. In death, she has become more motherly and protecting. My sisters and I have found that we are able to enjoy her company, even if she remains unseen. My brother won’t talk about this, but that’s okay. Mom and dad do visit him too even if he is unaware of them being there.

                                                             

There are many of my friends and family who have lost their own dear mothers. Mother’s Day can be a bitter holiday if you believe that death means the end of life. Death is just our souls leaving the earthly vessel or body. The soul does not die. My father and mother have started to bring other dead people to visit me. I’m not positive, but I think the spirits just want to tell me their stories. I listen.

                                                                 

 

This Mother’s day, buy that card and leave it for your mom. She isn’t gone forever. She is still with you and she will appreciate the card.

Life with Fred & Lucy, Episode 37: Graves 'R' Us

                                                        

 

This isn’t the normal Fred and Lucy stories that I usually tell to people when I’m remembering my parents, but in a way, it’s quite relevant. My father, always the planner, always the practical one when his OCD wasn’t in overdrive, was a stickler for preparing for the future. It didn’t matter what the topic was; he was prepared.

                                                               

 

In case of world chaos, he had enough food, water and emergency supplies squirreled away to make any Zombie Squad Member proud. Fred used this ‘better prepared than dead’ mindset even in how and where he wished to be buried. He and Mary (our loving stepmother and wife #3) had gone shopping for their ‘last home’ and picked a  lovely spot at the Saints Peter and Paul Cemetery in Marple Township, Delaware County, Pa.

                                                                               

                                                                       

This was not just a grave to Mary and Fred and, cemeteries meant more than just death. I remember the many occasions that my father and stepmother asked me to drive them to their future graves. They wanted to “check it out,” and make sure the neighborhood (the section they were to be buried in) was still populated by nice people and not losers. I usually had a few grandkids with me, so we packed a lunch and threw a few folding chairs into the trunk. We ate, then me and the grandkids would roam the area and look at the tombstones, or father would spend the time telling my grandkids funny stories about his younger days. Finally, we'd pack up and head home. These trips were always fun, but visiting the dead wasn’t new to me.                                                       

I don’t know if this is an Italian thing brought over by my parents, but I remember growing up with Fred and Lucy packing us four rowdy children into the car to visit dead family members at the Holy Cross Cemetery in southwest Philly. The aunts and uncles would join us there. While the adults chatted over lunch, my siblings , cousins and I would check out the mausoleums or the huge ornate tombstones. The ghosts that I saw, always seemed happy for the company and didn’t mind that we kids would accidently walk upon their graves. Yes, I saw dead people. I'm an Empath. It runs in the family.

Fast forward to the present when my father died. Grave bought, coffin chosen, inheritance divided equally among the four children, my father left little work for the survivors to worry about. A year later, when one of my husband’s sisters (single) had become seriously ill, the decision was made for us to chip in and buy two plots with each plot holding two coffins. The plan was that Dan and I would be Diane’s roommates so to speak.
                                                                            

                                                                       
The extra grave would be saved for an emergency. Rent a grave?  The three of us decided on a secluded spot at St. Mary’s Cemetery. We selected an area in front of a big tree with wooded area nearby. Perfect! When Diane passed away, she was placed in a grave that she had chosen. 
                                                  
My mother, Lucy, who was living on the west coast with her second husband never planned for the bid “D”. She was afraid of dying and afraid of being buried in the ground, alive. I couldn’t bury my mother with Tom, my stepfather, because he’d been cremated and his ashes had gone to his daughter. When Mom died, I took her ashes home to New Jersey and placed them in the new niches that St. Mary’s Cemetery now has available. Mom would be in the same cemetery and we would be neighbors. Everything was set in place, or so we thought. Mom in upper right corner. Dan and I next row down                                                               

                                                                       
Over time, my husband and I began to like the idea of cremation and small niches a whole lot better than graves, so after talking about it, we sold our plot and bought two niches. We are now located in the row under my mom, Lucy Aniello. We would still be neighbors to Diane, but we would be a little bit further down the trail.  It turned out that it was a good thing we moved. I can't say the same for my sister-in-law, Diane.

Construction
                                                                     

To add more ramps and make interstates 295 and 42 N/S freeways wider, the State has taken a large swatch of land away from the cemetery and included the land into the plans for major construction. Do you remember the wooded area and big tree that we liked when we first bought the plots? Gone!  Diane now has 42N/S Freeway as a neighbor and, we can’t afford to move her.  There is also a historic home in close vicinity to Diane that was used as an underground railroad during the Civil War. It is slated to be torn down for the larger highway. Shame.

                            Dan looking at construction 10 ft. from grave                              

So, Dan and I are set for the inevitable and  like our new digs, or will, when we're dead.  I've mentioned to my sister Lucy and her husband that there are two niches left on the wall and, they are right next to Dan and I. She's considering the prospect of becoming our neighbors after death. I found out that my Uncle Mario and Aunt Rose will be residing at St. Mary’s when they pass away, too. It will be one hell of a big party at this cemetery with all us crazy ghosts hanging out.  I asked my daughter if she wants to purchase two niches for the future, but she’s young and thinks we’re all crazy.
Update
I found out that we can get ceramic photos placed on our niches. That is so awesome and I know what picture I want on mine. What do you think? Too much?
                                                                                 

 Nah!!! I'm going with it! Dan, on the other hand, wants the picture of him in his dress uniform from the Philadelphia Fire Department on his niche.

Sister Love

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      
                              Me, my sister Lucy playing referee, and Jane
                                          

Even though my parents had four children, my sister Jane and I have always had this love/hate/love relationship that would rival that of the biblical Cain and Abel.
I’m the instigator for most of the arguments as I have been trying to do her in since the first day my parents took her home from the hospital, going as far as trying to give her away to the Fudgie Wudgie Ice Cream man at the Wildwood seashore.

                                                         

                                                                                          

Now don’t get me wrong, I love Jane very much, but we’re only 18 months apart and this closeness in age, apparently became the catalyst for all our squabbles our entire life.  

                                                               

                                                     

Jane and I have a younger brother and sister, but our disagreements with them were far and in between and consisted mostly of whose side they were on when Jane and I fought.

                                                            

                                                                                                                    

I was the firstborn and the little princess for our extended Italian family. My father took me everywhere and my mother made the prettiest dresses for me and my grandmother doted on me. I was, for lack of a kinder description, spoiled rotten.
                                                            

Then Jane arrived. Who was this interloper that dared to take all of my mother’s attention? Where did she come from? And better yet, how could I send her back? Remember I was only 18 months old, but I knew that this was a threat to the throne that had to be dealt with. I remember and have been told by older family members that I would try to give her away to anyone who came to visit. Fortunately for her, there were no takers.

                                                                                                                                              

My sister Lucy was and is today the peacemaker, always stepping in whenever the “War of the Planets” was about to begin. Lucy tends to be, middle of the road, live and let live, you’re both wrong, type of girl. And even now that Jane and I are both in our early sixties; Lucy often has to play the part of the “United Nations and send in the peace keeping troops.”
                                                                                           
My brother wisely keeps out of the battles, thinking we’re all nuts.

                                                                                                                                               

With my sister Jane being hard core Tea Party and I a hard core Democrat.

 our younger sister Lucy has to play referee, but I did give Jane fair warning that the Fudgie Wudgie man still exists and can still be found selling ice cream on the Wildwood beach.

                                                                      

                                                                           

Mom

                                                                          

My Mom, Lucy Aniello, passed away this morning. She was on hospice and I was going out there on Thursday to help my sister Jane take care of her. I'll be leaving on Thursday to help Jane with my Mom's funeral arrangements. These pictures were taken this past summer when all four of us were able to go out and visit her.

                                                                              
                                                                 

                                                                             

                 

                     

                                                                                                                                                                                                 

I'm planning on having a Memorial Service for her in Audubon when I return from California. My Mom is loved and will be missed by her family.


This is my favorite song and I think of Mom when I hear it.

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AmFM4jZasvs

Part Twenty of Lilith's Escape

                                                            

“Did he bite you?” Lilith repeated.

Edward kept his gun aimed at her, watching as she pushed back her hood to reveal her face. “No,” he replied.

                                                                  

“Good or I would have been forced to kill you.”

“Stay where you are,” Edward ordered, as Lilith moved towards him, but she ignored his command and the gun pointed at her.

“Would you really shoot me?” she asked.

Edward stood motionless as she reached out and moved the gun away from her chest. With his gun out of her way, she stood on her toes and kissed him gently on the lips.

                                                                           

“What is he?” Edward asked when Lilith removed her lips from his. It took all his control to keep his arms by his side, his desire for her too strong to ignore.

“He is what I’m trying to prevent from happening in the future. This is a genetically engineered zombie and he was sent here to kill you.”

                                                              

                                                                   

Edward’s glance went to the dead man and then back to the woman before him. “What are you and what does this have to do with the man I’m looking for?”

She let out a sigh. “Let me remove this, before I explain,” she said pointing to the dead man lying at their feet.

Edward watched as she slid her sword from its leather scabbard and touched the body. There was a flash of light so bright that Edward was forced to shield his eyes with his good arm.

                                                               
          When he lowered his arm he saw that the zombie was gone. The bloods stains on the rug were the only proof of the ungodly visitor.

After sheathing her sword, Lilith removed her cloak and let it fall to the floor. She undid her armor and dropped it next to her cloak, but as she did so, she winced. Dressed only in a flimsy linen drape, she placed her arms around his waist and her head against his chest.

                                                     
     Edward kept his arms at his side and a tight grip on the gun while trying to fight the urge to take her into his embrace.

“What are you?”

She kept her face hidden at his chest. “I’m an immortal. Hold me Edward.”

“Are you a god?” he asked and nudged her away from his body in order to look into her eyes.

“No...but I was  designed by one.”

                                                               

Edward felt the bitter taste of bile work its way up his throat. “Are you the first wife of Adam?”

                                                           

“I am that woman, but I was never his wife.”

“Then you’re a demon,” he replied .

“I’m no demon.” She tried to move back into his arms.

                                                              

“Then, what are you?” Edward asked as he took a step back from her.

“I am a planet seeder, created way before man evolved to take his place on earth.”

                                                                          

He tightened his grip on the trigger; his fear of her was stronger than that of the zombie.

“Go on,” he urged her.

“I was sent to the earth man, to increase the survival rate of future generations” she replied softly.

                                                                        

“But, that didn’t happen,” he countered.

 “I fell in love with another and would not stay with the man.”

                                                        

The sound of loud thumping filled the room and at first Edward was unable to identify the source. His heart was beating so fast that he felt light headed, but he needed to know more.

“So you ran away?”

                                                                    

“Yes, I'm so cold, please hold me," she pleaded, but when Edward made no move to embrace her, she continued speaking,. "Another was formed to take my place, but she was unable to stop the man from joining forces with the enemy.”

                                                                       

“Who is creating the zombies?” he asked.

“Hold me in your arms and I will tell you everything.” She raised her hand and touched his cheek.

All thoughts of the past few days seemed to fade away as he looked into eyes. She was telling the truth, but how he knew this as fact, he couldn’t say.

                                                                      

“Hold me, Edward. I’m so very cold,” she pleaded, but in a weaker tone.

     He took her into his arms and held her tight. He was surprised at how cold her skin felt. “Who is this man you have me searching for?” 

     There were was no reply. She had gone limp in his arms and when he tried to lift her, he noticed the blood on his hand.

                                                                

Advice to the Living from the Dead

                                                                           

My father, when he was alive, would often criticize me for always being in a rush. I worked four days a week and helped out with my grandkids, so I was always running here and there, trying to complete everything before the start of a new work week.

                                                                     

“Slow down, or you’ll make yourself sick.” He would often say as I zoomed in for a quick visit and back out of his house trying to get everything done in one day.

                                                                 

“Dad, I have to hurry or I won’t get done,” I would reply.

“Don’t rush to your grave any faster than you need to,” he would counter.

                                                                

My father was in no hurry to rush to his grave and there were many times when he was in the hospital, that my siblings and I would get a call from the doctors to come in immediately because my father was near death. I remember one particular day when I received such a call and I literally ran from the Academy of Natural Sciences on 19^th and the Parkway all the way to Jefferson Hospital on 11^th and Chestnut to see him one last time.

                                                                        

I arrived at his room expecting the worse only to find him sitting up in bed enjoying his meal. “Dad, why are you eating?”

                                                                    

He looked at me like I had two heads and replied, “I’m hungry, why?”

“The doctor called us and said that you were dying.”

                                                                   

“Not today, I’ll go when I’m good and ready,” he replied and then went back to eating his lunch.

After that incident, whenever the doctors would call us to say that my father was doing poorly and might die, I would always reply, “He’ll go when he’s good and ready and not before.” He lived to be 92.

So this past week, I almost lost my daughter and her husband to a serious accident with an all-terrain vehicle.

                                                    
                  And I lost a wonderful cousin who died way before her time.

                                                                                                       
                                             My wonderful cousin, Marie. Seen on far left.

               

My father’s words came back to me tonight after I visited her family. “Take it easy, enjoy your life and don’t rush around so much. The faster you rush, the faster you reach your grave.”

                                                                       

So for all my friends and family, I wish you a long, healthy, joyful life that is spent enjoying the little, silly, funny, fleeting, moments that make this journey worth the ride. Take the slow lane.