I’m Back … Sort Of

Posted on January 4, 2013 by wisdomfromafather

I’m back … well, sort of.

For the past couple of weeks I’ve been feeling under the weather. It hasn’t been down on my back sick, but sick enough to muddle my brain {as if anyone could tell}.

Technically, I’ve been battling a bout of bronchitis. I’ve had it before, but this time it has been different. Normally, it was a lot of hacking and coughing … you know, real deep stuff. Five minutes or so and a chug of cold water and the spasm was over. This time around, there’s the coughing, but it’s not deep. And it has totally wiped me out.

I have been able to work at my day job, but that’s really not so much of an accomplishment. Since my office is attached to my house, I would trudge into the office, do a little work, head back into the living room, sit in my lounger, turn on some soft music and drift off for a nap. After the nap, it’s back to the office for some more work … and so on. It’s made for some weird office hours.

I tried to put down some thoughts over the past few days, but knew I was in trouble when the eyes closed with my fingers still on the keyboard.  So I opted to sit some time out and let the rest of the blog world take over.

It’s also reinforced a basic principle of life — we are not in control, as much as we like to think we are. A little thing like bronchitis can change your outlook. I was running at a frenetic pace and needed to slow down. Of course, I wouldn’t do that on my own.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Know how to work, but also know how to play.

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2012 in review

Posted on December 30, 2012 by wisdomfromafather

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The new Boeing 787 Dreamliner can carry about 250 passengers. This blog was viewed about 1,700 times in 2012. If it were a Dreamliner, it would take about 7 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

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The Gifts

Posted on December 23, 2012 by wisdomfromafather

I alluded to gift giving for Karen with the children acting as the elves,  guides and hint givers a couple of posts ago. So here’s the story.

Now, I always tried to weave my profession into my personal life. I even planned a scavenger hunt for Karen’s engagement ring but when threatened if this was going to be “one of those nights, you can take me right home,” I thought better. But once that ring was securely planted on her finger, it was my time. I had the poor girl roaming throughout the house before settling on storylines after the kids were born.

Every year, Karen would complain about the drawn out stories, but I do know she looked forward to the. One year, I did not have a story and later she told me how much she really missed the exercise. I discovered a few of the them among her things. They included letters, cards, a little booklet complete with festive rope and bows. Topics included the 12 Days of Christmas, Santa’s reindeer, a year in the life and conversations with Santa himself, as well as his reindeer and, well, as shown here, his elves.

As a prelude, as I went through the found treasures(?), I couldn’t remember most of the gifts even with the hints — except for an annual present she always described as a present for myself. From year one, I always gave her a nightgown, peignoir set, teddy, lingerie, silk pajamas, even a flannel nightgown. {do you know how sexy flannel is?}

This particular letter was from 1992. Just before Christmas, I had an assignment covering the installation of Bishop Elliott Thomas as Ordinary for the Diocese of St. Thomas (VI), which happened to be jurisdictionally under the Archdiocese of Washington. So I had to leave comfortable Washington for St. Thomas. That’s the backdrop and here is the story as presented to Karen, Christmas 1992.

Merry Merry Christmas!!!

Well, here we are at another Christmas … and here we are with another adventure.

If you remember, this time of year is generally filled with sometimes bizarre events and visits. This year was no exception …

Our story goes back to late November. There was a call on voice mail that made absolutely no sense. Someone called and left a message. They said, “We have to do some checking. Please Call S. Claus as soon as possible.”

Well, naturally, I thought it was a prank call, so I dutifully ignored it. About a week went by and another message appeared on voice mail.
“This is serious. Please Call S. Claus, immediately, so we can verify some important Christmas facts. If you refuse to call us back, I’ll have to report you, Mr. Siccardi, are being uncooperative and you know which column the check will go into. Please Call S. Claus — that’s C-A-L-L-S-C-L-A-U-S, (225) 572-5287. We must hear from you immediately.”

Now my Christmas was in jeopardy. After all, I don’t want the big guy to get mad at me. So, I checked this out. (225), yup, that’s the area code for the North Pole.

So I called the number — believe it or not, it’s a toll-free number for the account verification department — and talked to some young-sounding guy named Elfis Something-or-Other. Honest, that was his name!

Bottom line was, they were checking on you. It seems the computer got fouled up somehow — dummies using DOS, is what he said — and they weren’t sure whether you were naughty or nice. The computer said you were nice, but the printout must have had a bad file in it because it kept repeating “N-A-U-G-H-T-Y.” Being good elves, they wanted to check this out … but they wanted to check it out in person. So they told me I would be contacted in St. Thomas, where the field representative would ask me some questions and file his report.

So, you see, I had to go to St. Thomas. Well, I had to go anyway, but now there was a secret Santa mission as well.

After I landed and picked up my bags, I was waiting for a cab when I heard this voice. “Welcome, mon.” I looked around, but didn’t see anyone. “I’m down here, mon, down here.” Sure enough, when I looked down there was this three-foot guy who didn’t look like an Islander to me. When he turned and hit my kneecap with his bell-laden tassel, I knew right away, this was my secret contact.

Sure enough, it was Agent 0070826980826981224943020723604485615082698. He told me to call him Ralphie.

Ralphie and I shared a cab to town — the cheapskate made me pay — and he quizzed me over and over and over. Was Karen a good little girl? Was she naughty at all? Was she always nice? Did she pick up her toys?

Yes. No. Always. Yes, and she made me pick up mine, too.

Should Santa come and visit her this year? Should he leave her nice presents? Should he leave her a lump of coal? Does she believe in Santa?

Yes. Yes. No. I think so.

How come the printout shows these checks on the naughty side? How do you explain those?

I don’t know. Computer error?

I dropped Ralphie off at the Fisherman’s Reef Hotel. “That’ll do for now,” he said, “but I’m watching you. I’ll be in touch before I leave.”

Well, I thought that was the end of Ralphie, but no. Just as I was getting ready to head for the beach, there’s a knock at the door.
“I’ve got some more questions,” blurted Ralphie as he walked in. “Won’t take long.”

Ha. He grilled me for hoooouuurrrs … missed the beach completely. I missed dinner, too, and had to settle for a stale Pop-Tart and some Twinkies. But I thought I settled this computer problem. I thought I convinced Ralphie you were a good little girl. I thought he was going to give Santa a favorable report. I thought Santa would come to visit. I thought my contact with Agent 0070826980826981224943020723604485615082698 was finished.

I was sort of right. I never saw Agent 0070826980826981224943020723604485615082698 again, but I did get a call from another — elf, I guess. His name was Alf. He said he was reviewing the file and the report from Ralphie and just wanted to make sure I hadn’t answered any questions under duress. I assured him I didn’t and I wouldn’t and affirmed, indeed, Karen was a good little girl this year and deserved the top of Santa’s line. Alf told me he appreciated the conversation and I would receive an official letter from Santa telling me of the disposition of the case on Karen.

Well, surprise, surprise, what came in the mail at the office Thursday? A special delivery letter from the North Pole from Santa Claus, of course!

According to the rules of the letter — I would have to start forfeiting some of my gifts if I didn’t follow them — I couldn’t share the contents since it was a list of the gifts you would be getting. But I could give you some hints. Soooooo, here goes — would the little elves help out, please.

1. Top of the line … Hmmmmm. Please open Package No. 1.
2. A maxim for the Washington area … Please open Package No. 2.
3. Iggy was an idiot … Please open Package No. 3.
4. Music to your ears … Please open Package No. 4.
5. A gift from the Energizer Bunny … Please open Package No. 5.
6. It’s yours … not borrowed … Please open Package No. 6.
7. This one is special … especially for you … Please open Package No. 7.

Well, that’s it. I hope the computer glitches were all patched up in the North Pole!

Love You!

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: One of the greatest stress relievers God has given us is laughter.

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Book of Life

Posted on December 22, 2012 by wisdomfromafather

In the wake of the Mayan miscalculation, I was attracted to a sign in front of a Mennonite homestead yesterday. It read, “What’s written in your book of life?”

Where I live, we have a number of Mennonite and Amish families. Most have a similar signs — “Maybe today!” or “Trust in the Lord”. Over the years, I seen hundreds at driveways, periodically changed for the time or season.

But this one was a new one.

I would like to think my book of life is filled with one positive story or event after another. But I know better. There are dark stories and events interspersed there as well. And so it is with all of us … a life story book filled with good and bad.

And that brings me to those doomsayers who believed a catastrophe loomed on 12/21/12. They were convinced some seismic, meteoric or apocalyptic event would occur that would hurl us all to the hereafter. Most were prepared to go out with a party. Few considered their individual book of life.

It isn’t just the doomsayers who have been neglecting the entries in their life journals. Many people today seem so overwhelmed with the financial and work [or lack of it] strains, they have been driven to despair. We see it in increased cries for mental health assistance, drug use, thefts and a total rejection of their moral compass. We see less and less regard for the value of human life and more and more regard for immediate, and sadly temporary, gratification in my life.

I would have liked to see those staring into eternity take some time to evaluate their lives rather than go out with a bang and a bottle of booze. I would like to see the rest of us do that same evaluation.

You may feel you have been abandoned by God, but the truth is you have abandoned Him and He is still there. You may not believe in a God, but by god, you must believe in yourself. You may not believe in a grand plan, but by god, you must believe you’re here for a reason. Figure that out. It probably has something to do with relationships with family and friends.

George Bailey figured it out in It’s a Wonderful Life. Each life touches so many others.

The truth is, some day the calendar will ring up our last day. For some, it was 12/21/12; for others it was 12/20/21; for still others it was 9/27/08. For the rest of us it will be …

I would like to think my book of life is filled with one positive story or event after another. But I know better. There are dark stories and events interspersed there as well. And so it is with all of us … a life story book filled with good and bad. The difference is because of a Baby in a manger, my dark stories have faded and my penalty has been paid in full. That can be what is written in your book of life as well.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Look around this week. Who has God put in your life? They’re not there by accident. God brings people across our paths on purpose. You and I are here to add value to people. You and I are here to help others succeed.

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Traditions

Posted on December 21, 2012 by wisdomfromafather

Traditions are a wonderful thing. They are a glue that binds families together. Doing the same thing every year has a certain appeal of continuity.

A fellow blogger, writing at Field Notes from Fatherhood — http://fieldnotesfromfatherhood.com/2012/12/15/of-the-ties-that-bind-families-one-is-second-only-to-love-tradition/ — summed it well. I just want add my two cents.

When I was growing up, we picked out our tree a couple of weeks before Christmas, put it up the weekend before Christmas and decorated it Christmas Eve day. We went to Midnight Mass, came home, wished each other a Merry Christmas and somehow presents magically appeared under the tree while we slept. Of course, it was just my Mom and Dad and me, so guess who most of the presents were for.

After a quick breaksnack, we headed off to Grandma’s for the real feast … donuts and breads and rolls for breakfast followed by antipasto, capon, turkey, ham, ravioli, manicotti, ziti, meatballs, sausage, brassiole and a thousand other palate-pleasing offerings. And it was topped with a dessert table of pizzelle, honey balls, rum pastries, cannoli, salami cake, rice cake, ice cream and my favorite, the endless supply of hard glazed cookies.  It was a food junkies heaven!

Then it was off to see my Mom’s  side of the family, which was for visiting, not eating {as if we could have eaten any more}. Then to my godmother’s and home. It was a full day.

Karen’s Christmas experience was somewhat different. At best they would have a tabletop tree with just a few “more practical” presents. Being a single mom, her mother often worked Christmas Eve and/or most of Christmas Day to pick up some extra hours.

So after we first got married, we decided to pretty much follow the plan of at least gastronomical opulence. I already told you about her first pre-marriage tree, so a real tree was in the offing for sure. She had never had a real tree before that. We, too, went to Midnight Mass, but we had presents under the tree well before we left. Karen decided she would make breakfast for us — the beginning of the egg casserole — and after a plate full or two and coffee we got down to serious gifting, or more appropriately, unwrapping. After another plateful of casserole and a quick “nap” {hey, we were newlyweds} we headed for Grandma’s to meet up with the rest of the family to eat and catch up. Then it was off to her aunt and uncle’s and then her Mom’s for a simple nightcap to the day.

The kids started coming and work schedules changed. Christmas No. 2 was slightly different. To get Christmas Day off, I worked Christmas Eve so Midnight Mass was scrubbed, and our outside the home visits were shaved to a few hours. Oh, we still made it to Grandma’s with the baby in tow. And we did stop in at her Mom’s and Aunt Marie and Uncle George’s.

I remember the first year we didn’t go to Grandma’s. We had just moved to Ogdensburg, NJ, about 35 miles from Paterson, NJ. There were two toddlers now. Grandma’s was my “tradition” but I knew it was impractical to go there. So Karen, wisely, said, “We’ll start a new tradition centered around the kids.” And we did. Christmas was for the kids. Those toys were meant for playing. If anyone was disappointed we didn’t visit them on Christmas Day, they were welcome to visit us in Ogdensburg. And sometime during the Christmas season, we would see the moms and dads and aunts and uncles, but not on a prescribed schedule.

That new tradition blossomed as the family grew and we headed to Illinois. Karen’s egg casserole was complemented with nut bread, Irish soda bread and other tempting treats. Gift giving was a family affair, and each of the urchins would usually join me in showering Karen with her gifts, acting as the elves, the guides, the hint givers. But that’s the story of another blog.

As with all traditions, they evolve. As the kids got older and moved out, our routines started scaling down — although somehow those closest to us at the time would always find their way home for Christmas morning breakfast, and those further away would replicate the repast. As each one left we told them to start their own traditions.

There is no “right way to celebrate the holidays. There is no wrong way. Have a family feast. Go out for dinner. Watch hokie Christmas movies all day. Go to a football or basketball or hockey {remember that sport} game. The key isn’t where you go or what you do … it’s who you do it with. Which is just another way of saying … Make your own memories!

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Make sure you see people through eyes of love, not eyes of judgment.

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Wheeze, Rattle

Posted on December 20, 2012 by wisdomfromafather

Well, I’m back from the doctor’s and I told you I wasn’t really sick. Okay, maybe just a little.

They went though the vitals. Weight, well, we won’t go there, but in my defense, I  had my shoes on and a full glass of water {okay, a four ounce plastic cup} in my hand. My blood pressure was a little high, but near normal for me. Next came an O2 reading with a quizzical look from the technician. I asked her if something was wrong. No, she said, it was higher than she would have thought with the cough and wheeze. {96} Next came my temperature, 98.3. I told you I wasn’t sick.

My nurse practitioner Kathy came in. She heard the wheeze in my breaths and said, “Oh, my.” As she checked my lungs, it was “Hmm”, a longer “Hmmm” and “Oh my”. She ordered a nebulizer treatment and re-checked my lungs. They were a little better, but still filled with “junk.” So an antibiotic was ordered and the diagnosis was bronchitis. Kathy said we caught it early and she was glad I came in when I did.

Then she told me to stay hydrated, take Mucinex to start bringing up some of the junk, throat lozenges if my throat got sore, salt water gargles for the post nasal drip and call if things got worse. I told you I wasn’t seriously sick.

Then the other shoe dropped. Kathy asked me if I was still on my blood pressure and diabetes meds. “No,” I sheepishly said. But I told her I had planned to call her after the holidays to set the baselines again and get back on track. “Do you want me to schedule them now?” she asked.

And she did, with the admonition if she didn’t hear from me by the first week in January, she was going to call me. There you go, from a nurse practitioner the age of my girls.

And of course I got home and hadn’t picked up my prescription. The pharmacy was busy and hadn’t gotten to mine, so I figured I would just get it in the morning. When my daughter-in-law found out, she said, “No. No.” And off she went to the pharmacy to pick it up for me.

So, you see, the girls in my life — from my nurse practitioner, to my daughters and daughters-in-law, to my special friends — will be keeping close tabs on me, despite myself. And Karen is smiling.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Our churches should not be museums to display perfect people. They should be hospitals to help the hurting and the lonely.

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Cough, Cough, COUGH

Posted on December 20, 2012 by wisdomfromafather

In case anyone was wondering, I’ve been absent from the blogosphere for a few days because I’ve been sick. Not terminal. Not too serious. In fact, probably not too sick.

I’ve had a nagging Cough, Cough, COUGH for almost a week and I can hear the wheeze as I breath. But other than that, I feel fine … honest!

My daughter-in-law, an LPN, wanted to rush me to the doctor’s Monday. She didn’t like the wheeze. After a day of “Are you alright?” “Do you want me to call the doctor?” “You really SHOULD get that checked out!” “Don’t you think it’s TIME to call the doctor?” she threw her hands up and muttered, “That’s where your son gets his stubbornness from!”

She reminded me of Karen at that moment. Every winter I would come down with a cold and every winter I would drive her crazy with my home remedies of hot toddies, extra Cs, plenty of cough drops and staying hydrated. And she would always throw up her hands in despair, spin around and muttered words like “impossible” “exasperating” and, yes “stubborn”. In all those years, I think I caved in and went to the doctor’s maybe once or twice. One time it was bronchitis … but I knew it because I would get sharp pains when I coughed or breathed hard.

Over the past week, I really haven’t had much sleep. I do as much as I have to, then retire to my recliner for a nap. A couple of hours later, I did more work. And of course, this was our Christmas issue which requires a little more detail. Tuesday, for example, I took a nap around 2 p.m., worked from 4-8 p.m., was sleeping at 9 p.m. and worked for about three hours at 2:30 a.m. (Wednesday). My schedule revolved around my Cough, Cough, COUGH! And how long the cough drops worked.

This year has been a little different, though. Generally my sinuses swell, causing the drip, causing the cough and ultimately settling in my chest. I’m not sure where it settled this year. My sinuses are relatively clear, but I can feel the drip down my throat and the raspiness in my lungs (no pain, though). Last night, I know I had a fever {no I didn’t check it} … so I’m planning on making a doctor’s office trip today.

I’ll keep you posted.

My Cough, Cough, COUGH is the reason there was no Wednesday Writing this week. Wednesday I was not awake long enough to do any writing. Hint! Hint! You guys can help, especially the ladies.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Instead of being critical and writing others off, take time to get to know them.

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Picture Perfect

Posted on December 14, 2012 by wisdomfromafather

I was driving today and couldn’t help noticing the barren trees on the side of the rural road. The branches reached out from the trunk with strange gnarls and twists that were unseen while under a blanket of leaves. Then I noticed the pine trees, with gaps and unevenness. Which, of course, got me to thinking.

When we see a tree, we don’t think about its structure. We picture perfect pines for our Christmas decorations. As we’re dreaming of a white Christmas, we see a blanket of white snow and our mind blocks out the slush and mush and tire tracks. Insert you own fantasy here.

This is a good thing. Life is not always perfect. No, let me re-phrase that. Life is never picture perfect. Up close, you can see the irregularities, but when you view things from a distance, the landscape comes into focus and looks entirely different.

The key is how we view our journey … as individual events or as an ever-expanding story. You know and I know people who react to every day as a challenge. They focus on the “now,” see the imperfections and are rattled by them. Others use each day as a stepping stone for the next. They — and I count myself in this category — look at the tapestry evolving, recognizing every challenge is a learning experience.

Enjoy your journey. The slush and mush will always be there, but you and I can still enjoy the forest while not focusing on the trees.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Nosey people are critical people.

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Wednesday Writing IX

Posted on December 12, 2012 by wisdomfromafather

Well, it’s Wednesday. Time to add to our collaborative story.

I know there are a number of professional and amateur writers following or at least visiting this blog, so now’s you chance to contribute … and we can use your help! Especially from you girls! We really need a female perspective in the ways of life and love {we can keep it anonymous if you prefer}.

We started you off by introducing Samantha on her way home. When we last left her, she had just graduated from high school. The storyline thus far is on my blog, wisdomfromafather.wordpress.com. The first part is at Wednesday Writing III. The continuation is at Wednesday Writing VIII. Here’s where we left off.

… All I knew was I had to get out of here. Because of my grades, I could go just about anywhere, and was accepted at a number of major colleges. I chose the College of Mount Saint Vincent and its nursing program, although the sight of blood makes me sick. It was a case of trying to please everyone else but myself.
Dad, over Mom’s objections, brought me a red Mustang convertible for graduation and for my daily commute to The Bronx. It was my independence. Once I had those keys in my hands, I was never home. It was off with my girls, often ending up at the hot dog joint just to flirt with the guys.
The Fearsome Foursome were heading off in different directions. Bernie was going to school at Fairleigh Dickinson while Betty was headed to the sunshine at the University of Miami. Lynn was off to cosmetology school and the work place.
But we were solid during the summer. We all started working — I worked at the local bakery — but whenever we had the chance, it was off to the Jersey shore in our bikinis and cut off jeans. It was a staple of the summer, boy watching on the boardwalk at Seaside Heights and coyly teasing them.
Summer raced by too quickly and it was a tearful goodbye to Betty. I knew life was changing and never would be the same, but I was determined to savor every minute from here on …

There you go, readers. We still have to develop Samantha’s story. (Although we haven’t stated it yet, we’ll find out Samantha is 55 and her two children have finished college and are out on their own. She is also an occupational therapist.) How did she do in college? What’s next with her relationships, story? Again, girls, we can use your input! Dig back to your memory {or fantasy} of growing up as an 18-19 year old.

All you have to do is put down your thoughts and get them to me. You can post your ideas as comments on the blog – but remember everyone will see them, so the “surprise” factor might get lost – or you can e-mail me directly at revblt@rochester.rr.com. Each Wednesday I will continue the story on the blog, along with that week’s attribution and periodically update Reveille/Between the Lakes readers. I hope we can have some fun with this.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: I don’t know about you, but I have a hard enough time trying to run my own life without trying to run somebody else’s.

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A Mouse, Chicken, Pig, Cow and Snake

Posted on December 10, 2012 by wisdomfromafather

I read a fun little story about compassion at acts international.org this week and shared it with family and friends. Now it‘s your turn to hear the tale of the mouse, chicken, pig, cow and snake … and the message from it. It came from The Daily Hug, http://www.2nspireyou.com/.

A mouse looked through a crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife opening a package. What food might it contain?

He was aghast to discover it was a mouse trap!

Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning, “There is a mouse trap in the house. There is a mouse trap in the house.”

The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, “Mr. Mouse, I can tell you this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it.”

The mouse turned to the pig and told him, “There is a mouse trap in the house.”

“I am so very sorry Mr. Mouse,” sympathized the pig, “but there is nothing I can do about it but pray; be assured that you are in my prayers.”

The mouse turned to the cow, who replied, “Like wow, Mr. Mouse, a mouse trap. Am I in grave danger? Duh?”

So the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected to face the farmer’s mouse trap alone.

That very night a sound was heard throughout the house, like the sound of a mouse trap catching its prey. The farmer’s wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught.

The snake bit the farmer’s wife. The farmer rushed her to the hospital. She returned home with a fever.

Now everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup’s main ingredient.

His wife’s sickness continued so friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.

The farmer’s wife did not get well. In fact, she died, and so many people came for her funeral the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide meat for all of them to eat.

So the next time you hear someone is facing a problem and think it does not concern you, remember, when the least of us is threatened, we are all at risk.

Do not forget to do good and to help one another, because these are the sacrifices that please God (Hebrews 13:16, GNT).

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Don’t drive up and down the freeway and see only the potholes and construction and traffic. Train yourself to see the things that are good. Look out at the beautiful trees. Look up at the sky. Breathe in the goodness of God.

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