Sitting on the dock of the bay...wasting time

So I have been sitting here on a Sunday morning, rereading old blog posts, remembering how funny I was and crying because even three years ago I was agonizing over the doomed EMPTY NEST syndrome. I started blogging because I thought I was losing my mind. I dont know why I stopped. But since yesterday I woke up and my clothes were on inside out, the way I had clearly put them on the night before and I ordered D4s graduation invitations with the wrong date and so I guess I have a renewed sense of getting my stories on paper so that they arent gone forever. Plus I am sure starting a new job, going to school full time and commuting 6 hours a day will not be enough to keep me from the voices in my head that keeps saying "Your kids are gone, your kids are gone". Wow, I am not funny anymore. I am just dark and disturbing. In any case, most of my stories are contained in the blog whatwouldnancydo.blogspot.com if anyone cares. Who am I even talking to anyway? Myself? Oh man, another reason I might be crazy.

Home Alone Repost from July 2009

REposted from SUNDAY, JULY 19, 2009

Home Alone

Did you ever see Home Alone?

That is me. I am home alone.

I mean not really. D1 is upstairs but she is leaving for work at 715am. Hubby is leaving at the same time. D2 is in Washington DC in her new apartment. D3 is away at camp until August 1st and D4 is vacationing with her friend in Myrtle Beach.

What shall I do with my aloneness?

Shall I clean the house?

No I have no helpers. I mean D1 helped cook and clear the table but I did the dishes. Is this what my life is going to be like when they leave for good? Me with all the chores.

I knew I had a lot of kids for a reason. Why is it getting so close to the empty nest? I am not ready. I mean I did lay outside all day. I ate when I was hungry and I went food shopping for 3 instead of 6. I didnt save any money though because I bought more expensive food.

Porterhouse steaks, roasted potatoes, cheesy bread, tomato and mozzarella salad and grilled vegetables.

And when D1 went to do laundry, there wasnt any. Granted I did all the laundry on Thursday but seriously... no laundry. I didnt even know those 2 words could be next to each other.

So here I am home alone at 11pm and what I am doing? Blogging. Answering email. Wishing someone was home to get me a bowl of cherries.

No helpers, no slaves, no one to talk girl talk to because hubby is a boy and clearly does not understand the merits of obsessing over certain subjects.

I miss my kids. Not just now but when they were little. I miss my life. The one I planned with lots of kids and fun. Not quiet. That is not fun at all.

Maybe I should start planning some tricks like Mulcalhy Culkin did in Home Alone. Watch out Hubby and D1.

The games shall begin.

Good thing Clover loves me.

Where the F@#$ have I been for the last 2 years?

What in the world have I been doing for the last 2 years? Seriously. How for the life of me have I had so many great thoughts, funny ideas, important advice to give and kept it to myself. It sounds impossible right? I guess going back to school kept me pretty busy. And working. I had less kids home so that couldn't be it. I am not sure really what happened to me and my bright, sunny outlook on life. Actually I do know but I am not ready to talk about it yet. I might, down the road, tell stories that seem demented and sick but that I find funny. For now though, I am back to blogging, back to funny stories, back to advice and back to me. I hope. What if after all these years I somehow became unfunny? What if my outdated and inappropriate humor fails me? I guess we are going to find out though. Together.... Here I am, back in the saddle again, sharing my life, for whatever reason people feel the need to share personal stories.... I guess its the same reason I talk to strangers on the train, I just like to share and get to know people.... and this is how I am going to do it. Ta Ta for now, but watch out world, here I come......

Reblogged from September 2009

I am not sure when I started noticing the chapters of my life going so quickly.

So many years went by when time seemed to stand still and now so much of it is gone.

My four girls are 8 years apart. So the first 10 years of my marriage we were getting pregnant, giving birth, breast feeding, and in a whirlwind of diapers, doctors visits, and potty training. We dealt with cancer and debt and it was life and we lived it.

When I was married for 10 years my girls were 8,7,2 and 10 months old.

The next 5 years were filled with lots of laundry and food shopping and girl scouts and school functions and it was so busy all the time, I barely had time to stop and breathe, must less shower or think of the future.

I went back to work when D4 was 5 and I worked and cared for a family of 6 without ever thinking anything of it. Life was moving along and it seemed like our world of chaos and giggling and fun would go on forever.

The point is that I never thought that time would end. There were moments when I would have killed, literally killed for a hot bath and a manicure. And now when I have the time for a man/pedi, I want someone to go with me.

I am desperately holding on to the time I have left because after all these years, the time is coming to an end.

In the book Insomnia by Stephen King, there is a death timer that the guy can hear that clicks away, ticking off the last moments of life. That is how I feel now.

Each moment, each event is one day closer to the day when I will have to let go of them all and let them go their own way.

I had a very hard time leaving D1 at college and then the next year I had a really hard time leaving D2 at college.

But we got used to it. We went from a large table of 6 to a small table of 4.

We went from laundry piling up all over the place to a few loads a week. We ate less, spent less at the Outback and enjoyed our new life as a small family.

And things were good for awhile.

The older girls came home now and then. We refinished the bedrooms and made one room a "guest room" where they could stay when they are "visiting". D1 came home last summer for awhile and for awhile this summer while she searched for a job after college.

And today... we moved her into a new apartment.

And she is gone. Gone from a long chapter in our life, on to the beginning of her new life. With so much hope and so much promise. Life for her begins today. She has set out on a journey of Newness.(not a word right? whatever.)

A new world. A new day. No day but today.

And although we will miss her in our own part of the world, I am pleasantly settled in my feelings of her starting her life. I am confident in her ability to adjust and settle in and I am grateful that she has found the most awesome roommate/friend/apartment finder in the world and that they will be sharing this experience together.

Letting go is hard. I helped her move in, we cleaned and shopped and hauled 22 years of stuff up 3 flights of stairs. And then it was time to go. I could have stayed forever.

I wanted to clean more so everything would be spotless, to cook something so they wouldnt starve and to lecture for hours on the dangers of two young girls loose in the city.

But it was time for me to go.

Figuritively and Literally.

Time to go, to let go.

And next year when D2 begins her new life I will let go again. And when D3 leaves for college in one year, more letting go.

And then in just 8 years I will be letting go for the last time. Letting go of my last daughter, letting go of motherhood and all the things that go with it.

I have spent quite some time complaining about my life. Complaining about my kids, my husband, my house, my homework, never my job, i love that.

But I loved it all. Every minute of this crazy ride.

There were many times I didnt think I could make it through and there are rare times when I didnt even want to.

Letting go is part of the ride. Part of the ride I always dreaded. Part of the ride I thought would never come.

But it is here.

And as my time as a mother is starting to end. letting go of one life I loved, trading it for the possibility of another life.

I cant imagine loving anything more than being a mother but until I became a mother I could never imagine life with my children.

The possibility of a new life is one I have to let in. The future is as uncertain to me today as it is to D1 on her first night in her new apartment.

But we are strong determined women and we will make it.

Life has changed and I have to change with it.

I am letting go today and letting in.

But I'm gonna miss this.

Cancer Schmancer Reblogged from a school assignment last summer

"You look like a cancer patient."

I say that every time my husband gets a haircut.

I used to say things like...

Oh dont think you are going to die and leave me with all these kids.

It may not sound funny to you.

In fact you may not think Cancer is funny at all.

But let me tell you something, for a few months in 1993, I had the funniest cancer jokes you would never hear.

I cant remember even one of them now but a few weeks ago when we thought the cancer may have come back... so did my comedy routine.

I am not sure what makes me funny when Cancer is around. I guess it is my way of saying Screw You Cancer. I am still laughing and you cant take that away.

I got married when I was 18. I had my first child at 19, my second at 20, my third at 25 and my fourth at 27.

The only reason I got to have a fourth child is because of Dr. Boland, the GOD of our world.

Dr. Boland saved my husbands life.

From a cancer that had only affected 8 people at the time.

It is called synovial sarcoma and it is very rare.

My husband, Patrick, was my high school sweetheart and is the love of my life.

I met him when I was 13, became friends with him at 15 and started dating him at 16.

He joined the Navy so we could have a better life and I couldnt wait until we could finally be together.

In bootcamp he hurt his hand doing drills with his gun.

The Navy doctors diagnosed him with everything from tendonitis to "it's all in your head" itis.

The pain got increasingly worse and he started to avoid using it.

At one point a doctor prescribed steroid shots and they injected his tumor with miracle grow.

Some Captain decided to operate because it was swelling up and he pulled out a fatty mass that they still claim wasnt cancer.

Captain Idiot operated on a Friday morning, went to his retirement ceremony that afternoon and left the Navy.

He never left any instructions for the hospital personnel so they never gave Patrick any pain medicine after the surgery.

When I got there to visit him after the surgery he was screaming in pain. The officers who were doctors, RN's and other nurses said "Stop screaming and address me as sir".

He was completely denied pain killers and the bandages were never changed because... it didnt say that in his papers.

So 2 weeks later when he went back for his follow up, he had gangrene in his hand.

He needed another surgery to fix the damage.

Only in the past few years have we discovered that this is what most likely caused the cancer.

The pain never went away and he stopped using his hand completely. He started to have back trouble because his whole left side was atrophied.

Another doctor thought he could fix it by operating again.

After surgery #3 we decided the medical care of the United States Navy wasnt for us.

He faked being well to stay in until he completed his four years.

He was given an Honorable Discharge from the United States Navy on March 5th 1989.

The pain in his hand got worse and worse until some days it was unbearable.

He sought medical care at Stony Brook University where without an X-ray or Cat Scan they began physical therapy and more injections into what we would soon find out was a tumor.

I was 9 months pregnant with my third child when we ran into our doctor at a Lamaze Class. He told Patrick to come and see him about the hand. He recommended him to a hand specialist who took one look at it and said this is scar tissue and we need to fix it.

My daughter was born June 7th 1993 and on July 14th my husband went into surgery for the fourth time.

I told him it was just so he didnt have to change any diapers and I thought it was a ridiculous plan to get away with that.

On July 15th, the doctor called me at home and said "Uh, Um, Uh, I dont know what this is".

I was so confused.

He said "Well we should test this just to be sure"

Test what I thought.

Like a tumor I said.

Yes.

Ok go ahead, I said.

I didnt really believe it could possibly be cancer because people do not have cancer for 9 years just laying dormant in his body. Cancer would have killed you by then, right?

Each time we visited the hand specialist we waited for the results, but these things take time they said.

One visit I was nursing Daughter 3 in the car before we went into the appointment.

Patrick said he would go in and wait for me there.

No no I said wait for me.

No we are late anyway I will just go in I will probably be done before you.

When Patrick arrived without me Dr. Liebowitz said "Where's Nancy?"

In the car.

Lets wait the doctor said.

No go ahead said Pat.

Dr. Liebowtz started to cry.

Wow that is never good.

By the time I walk in Dr. L is crying, Pat is as white as a ghost and I have no idea what is going on.

Dr. Liebowitz tells us the name of the cancer and we dont hear anything after that.

Synovial Sarcoma blah blah blah..

He tells us that if he or anyone in his family had cancer he would go straight to Sloan Kettering.

He picked up the phone in his office and called Sloan Kettering and we had an appointment in three days.

That is when we met Dr. Boland. He is a tall, white haired man with an Irish brogue.

He wanted to run his own tests but he thought Huntingon Hospital probably got it right.

This cancer is very tricky he said.

It lays dormant in your body for a long time.

Then it spreads, quickly.

We didnt know then if it had spread or if it was contained in his hand.

I wanted to know the worst case scenario but Pat and our dads werent so sure.

Lets wait, they all said.

No I want to know what to expect.

Dr. Boland said "Well we probably wont have to amputate the whole arm, most likely just the hand or up to the elbow"

I was shocked to find out that amputation was still being used as a way to treat anything.

What about chemo, radiation...

That doesnt work on this kind of cancer.

It has to be cut out.

He went for a million tests and scans.

All the news was good from the initial diagnosis.

The cancer hadnt spread, it was just wrapped up into his pointer and middle finger in his left hand.

He had surgery on August 17th 1993, getting out of changing diapers indefinitely at that point.

At the time of surgery they didnt know how much cancer was in there. If it is too far into his hand we will take the whole thing until we see a clear margin.

He ended up having two fingers and half of his left hand amputated.

He was an electrician and thankfully worked for an incredible company that allowed him to come back slowly and figure out how to wire neon signs without fingers.

It has been a struggle.

Synovial Sarcoma is a cancer that never stays away. In other cancers you feel somewhat safe at 10 years. This is when synovial sarcoma comes back.

He has gone to see our GOD Dr. Boland in Sloan Kettering first every 3 months, then every 6 months, now every year.

At last years visit, Dr. Boland said you know its been 15 years and I thought we could say goodbye to you but we just had someone have a recurrence after 15 years.

The survival rate of this cancer was .17 percent. It has gone up a little over the years but still...

I tease him all the time, is that just you?

Cancer has changed Patrick's life but it has changed our whole family.

Our fourth daughter knows she wouldnt be here without Dr. Boland.

I know this story is long and I am thankful to anyone who took the time to read it.

I could go on and on with so many stories but there is just one lesson I want to share.

Healing Lesson #1

Cancer has changed our lives. There was a time when getting stuck in line would freak me out and I would be so annoyed. I try now to always just be grateful for the moment. For the chance to spend time with the ones I love and know that they may not be here forever. Life is too short to worry about things that you cannot change.

When the cesspool backed up at 2:30pm on Christmas Eve, we laughed, called desperately until we found someone nice enough to come over. When our daughter, weeks after she passed her road test, backed one of our cars into the other in the driveway on her way out to get oreos and milk, I laughed. And when I stopped laughing I realized the real tragedy. "You arent going to get oreos now are you?"
Then I cried.

I cant teach anyone to appreciate life like I have learned to with the love of my life almost being taken from me. All I can tell you is that if you knew the person you loved would be gone tomorrow would you be so quick to yell that he didnt change the toilet paper roll or dragged mud in on his shoes?

There is always a chance his cancer could come back. He has two lumps in his arm right now that they are monitoring. Any day our lives could change and we could be back to spending our days at Sloan Kettering waiting for test results. We never know and that is why we make every moment count.

When we cut out of work early or spend our entire savings on a vacation, when we spend our last dollar on going to a movie or taking the kids for ice cream... I know this is the right thing to do because I am sure that if I found out tomorrow that I only had a week to live I would not wish that I spent more time at work or saved a dollar and missed out on making a memory, which may be all we have left after someone is taken without warning.

Here is picture of Patrick on our recent trip to Jamaica. You can see where his fingers were amputated. We went to celebrate, 25 years together and our oldest daughters graduation from college, our second daughters return from a semester in Spain, our third daughters Sweet 16 and our fourth daughters graduation from middle school. It's all good and even when our flight was delayed and they lost our luggage and it rained every day... we were together and no cancer could ever take that away.



If you are ever looking for a charity to support please donate to Sloan kettering. You can click on the link above to see their website. They saved my husbands life and they made the journey as painless as possible. They are truly wonderful people who run an amazing hospital.

Love at 16 Reblogged from 9/2009

It must be some sort of crazy coincidence that I never feel the urge to blog until I have a ton of homework to do.

I have clearly had the whole summer, even days where all the kids were gone and I was totally alone but did I blog? Ok maybe a little but this morning with Abnormal Psychology homework looming, I thought, hmm, I should blog.

I hated high school.
And everything about it, from the teachers to the cliques to the drama, the only thing I could say about high school is that I was soooo glad it was over and never looked back.

I got married 6 months after high school and while everyone was off going to college, drinking, partying, Hubby and I were in our first apartment living the newlywed life and loving every minute of it.

We found out we were pregnant in July 1986 as most of our friends were heading back to college for their sophomore year.

We were in such a different place(physically and mentally, we lived in Boston) than most people our age that we didnt really keep in touch with anyone from high school.We just had nothing in common. No one could understand why we wanted to be together instead of out running around playing the field.

Many many people criticized our choice and made sure we knew it was never going to last. They said we were young, didnt know what we wanted and when real life dealt us some blows we would see it would all fall to crap.

But instead we have built one of the most beautiful, pure, love relationships that I have ever seen even in the movies. We knew then that we loved each other and despite the failures of relationships like ours all around us we survived, not just survived, flourished.

Life has dealt us more than our share of blows. Things that could and normally would paralyze any couple until they just broke apart without any possibility of fixing it. but I have a theory and of course I know you are dying to hear my words of wisdom.

When you are 16, the age I was when I realized how much I loved Hubby and wanted to spend my life with him, people will say it isnt real and things change and you have to grow up first and I have to disagree based soley on my own exprerience but still...

When you are 16, life is just beginning. There is a whole possiblity of a future in whatever way you want it to go. You picture yourself either in a career, oh i want to be a doctor or finding the love of your life or whatever. The possiblities are endless and because of that you are free to pursue every feeling as it is, pure. You love, you hate, you get angry, you get sad, you laugh yourself into hysteria, they are real feelings.

Later as you get older you start hiding those things. Some emotions are socially unacceptable so you dont cry out or laugh too hard. You tear up or you stifle a laugh but you have already begun to hide yourself from the world therefore shielding yourself from the possibility of true, deep love.

When 16 year olds say I love you to each other as Hubby and I did when we were that age, we meant it with all of our hearts, we meant you make me feel so good about myself and I want that to continue. When we were 19 and found out I was pregnant and said I love you it was different but it meant we are a family now, we are growing our love. At 27 when Hubby had cancer and didnt know if he would survive and we said I love you, we meant I have loved you for a long time and I want to love you some more,please dont leave me.

And after all the years of I love you's, the rest of our beautiful childrens births and proud moments, our anniversaries, our illnesses, our pain and suffering through trauma after trauma, of course it means something different now. How could it not? After all the things we have experienced together, we know each other better than anyone else.

At 16 I couldnt have known that he would get me lobster at 2am if I needed it. I couldnt have forseen the look in his eyes when each daughter was born. I couldnt predict the pain we have gone through in the loss of some extremely special people in our lives. All I knew is that he made me feel special and I loved him for that.

I still believe that it doesnt matter how old you are when you find the true love of your life and they love you back you should go for it.

Hubby and I went to his 25th high school reunion a few weeks ago although it caused me to have an unbelievable panic attack right before we went in. Hubby was so excited to go, because unlike me, he loved high school and was anxious to see everyone after 25 years. I made some last minute pleas in the parking lot and he said we didnt have to go if I really didnt want to.

I knew how much he wanted to go though so I begrudgingly walked into what I thought would be a night of total hell. "who are you?" "No i dont remember you from high school" Brings me right back to senior year when hubby left for the navy and i had no friends.

Anyway...we actually had a great time and saw some people that were interesting and fun.

So it was with a little bit of anxiety that yesterday I agreed to meet the Girls of 84 for lunch. Of course you know I am way younger than them, I graduated in 85, but all my friends and various boyfriends were from the class of 84.

There were about 13 of us, all from different groups and cliques. And we had a blast. Some of the people I didnt know too well in high school I was happy to talk to and get to know a little better. It was fun and funny and it was just what I needed to see that although I thought everyone was having a great time in high school that wasnt always the case.

Each of us has gone through something, be it death, sickness or divorce. High school wasnt the party everyone says its supposed to be for a lot of people.

As time goes on and you hear the stories you wonder why you didnt know back then that other people felt the same way as you, why you thought you were the only one.
High school is a moment in time. When you are 16 unfortunately it is your biggest moment in time and therefore you have no reason to believe that things will change.

But let me tell you, they will. Life will continue to change and you will make a decision to change with it or remain stagnant.

Hubby and I changed together, with each others support, with love and caring, we wanted that and we made it work.

Any idiot can sit and chair and talk about change and possibilities but unless you are working on that each and every day you are going to find yourself stuck in a moment, that you cant get out of.(ok so i stole that line from Bono, but it worked here)

You can be that person that goes to their high school reunion with the flock of seagulls haircut and the jordache jeans talking about the last football game of the 83-84 season or you can be you but a little more developed, a little more interesting and with a lot more I love you's under your belt.

Its your choice, make it however you want and run with it.

Reposted from last year

I wrote this one year when I was dropping D3 at the Long Island High School for The Arts Prom. I just found it as we were cleaning out the basement. She just returned from a Theater Program where she met people even more like herself and the answer is yes there are more of them.



It's a group of freaks I leave her with. And I guess I mean freaks in the sense that they dont fit into the horrible social click of a world they call high school.

When I was young wer were still buying into high school being the best years of your life. We've gotten over that false picture someone put in our heads. No one even implies the years of social agony you endure while attempting to get an education can some somehow be classified as the best.

Freaks, I guess they are classified as, or a step further, drama freaks. They love to sing and act and play , they will burst into song, beautiful incredible music that escapes from their souls that they bear to the world often.

And get stepped on even more.

They are real, so real in fact people dont know what to do with them.They're labeled, like jocks, or cheerleaders but with a label that says you're not worth my time.

But Oh they are. I recently had the opportunity to attend a cabaret performance that made my eyes water and my heart ache. Their music touched my soul. Their confidence on their terms, in their space made me so proud of them and for them.

I spent that night with my daughter and her friend. They were real to each other and to others in their freak world.

I believed for one second that their is hope. That somehow in this whole world they found each other.

Are there more of them out there? I hope so.

These are people no one takes the time to know because it's a little harder. They are socially awkward, sometimes seeming so young, sometimes older beyond their years.

I feel more comfortable leaving my daugher with these freaks. They tell her she's a beautiful person, they honor her uniqueness, they cultivate her friendship, they learn from her and they teach her because they are real.

Real people who are interesting and smart and fun and talented, oh so talented.

Life for them speaks in music, not words.

And their song is always in their hearts.