Having voted early, my bff MC and I boarded a plane in Boston the day before the national election and flew to Florida. The last time I was on a plane was in the spring of 2005! My sister and I flew to Tampa/St.Pete for a few days of beach and sun. So much has changed in 20 years! First of all, driving to Logan was a new experience. The Ted Williams tunnel! What happened to the other tunnels???? The airport looks nothing like it did 20 years ago. Well, of course it doesn’t. But wow was I surprised. Navigating the airport was going to be a challenge for me…both because it’s all so different and because I am as well. MC made it easy for me. I’m not sure I could have done this without her help.

We boarded the plane and off we went. The flight was really very smooth and we arrived in Orlando about an hour early. The Orlando airport is massive….like really massive! We got our luggage and our rental car and off we went to our resort. MC has a vacation ownership and can go to many places in the world. We went to this incredible place in Orlando…with 5 pools, our “room” was a fully outfitted 2 bedroom/2 bathroom suite complete with full kitchen and in-room laundry. And a lovely balcony with table and chairs to look out over the fountain lake. It was fantastic. We got settled and then walked over to the big pool…and wow! This pool was massive. And right in the middle of the pool was a huge grotto with waterfalls. Amazing. We grabbed dinner at the poolside restaurant and then back to our room.

Election day dawned partly cloudy with occasional rain showers. So we made a list and off to Publix we went to fill the frig with lots of goodness. With the weather being less than ideal for the pool, we went to Disney Springs and went to the movies. Conclave….starring Ralph Fiennes, Stanley Tucci, John Lithgow and the beautiful Isabella Rossellini. This was a great movie, lots of drama and intrigue and one huge twist at the end. See it! By the time we got back, it was time for the pool…..

In fact, every day was a pool day! On the weekdays, we would arrive at the pool around 9 and procure ourselves a perfect cabana for the day. These cabanas had a table and 4 chairs and then 2 lounge chairs and side tables. We chose a location that was mostly shady as MC has that fair Irish skin! A hot tub was conveniently located right next to our cabana and the bathroom was 20 yards away. Also, each cabana has a ceiling fan and there is a USB port charging station in each one. Perfect! We spent all day every day at the pool. There was a water aerobics class at 11 each morning that was lots of fun. Each day MC would go back to the room and bring lunch down while I continued to lay claim to our cabana. We would pack it in each day around 4-430. I was sensible and tanned but did not burn.

On Saturday our friend R came up from Sarasota to spend the day with us. We’ve known each other for 35-40 years. It was great to see him and spend the day together. The weekend days were busier at the pools but there was plenty of room for all. It was fun watching the little kids in the spray pad area and the brave kids swimming under the grotto waterfalls. The water beats down hard! On Tuesday, it was time for me to come home. MC was staying a few more days and in fact, taking me to the airport and picking up her sister at the same time. I was on my own for getting thru the airport and did pretty well. It was not as far to go as when we arrived. I flew home, making a stop at Reagan in Washington DC before heading on to Boston. The weather in Orlando was very warm (80’s) and very humid. The weather in Boston was cold. I wore shorts on the plane because yes, it was hot in Orlando. I knew it would be cold in Boston but I also knew I was not going to be outside for a long time. Upon arriving at Logan, I texted my friend D who was waiting in the cell phone lot. When he pulled up and got out of the car, his first comment to me was not “nice to see you” or “welcome home”….no, his comment was “You know it’s winter right?!!! In fact, I actually enjoyed the cold and dry air. I certainly expected Florida to be warm. But I honestly did not expect it to be as humid as it was. The pools were averaging 82-85 degrees and the “cold” water in the kitchen and bathroom faucets was barely cool.

I had a wonderful time in Florida. MC made this trip easy for me and for that I am grateful. We sat poolside every day, reading books, sometimes talking, sometimes not and just relaxed. It’s the best kind of friend to have that does not need to be entertained every minute. We travel well together. Initially I was not going to take this trip. I was not ready. But MC made the decision to have me fly down with her and it made all the difference. Having someone to help me navigate the unknown and huge airports was key. In fact, I was then able to manage my return flight through 3 airports all on my own. Victory!

Where are we going next????

I have been to NYC 3 times now. The first time was in 2004 on a bus trip to the old Yankee Stadium to see the Red Sox play the Yankees. Roger Clemens was pitching for the Yankees. The late great Tim Wakefield was on the hill for the Sox. The Sox won this game and eventually won the World Series. It was a season none of us in Red Sox Nation will ever forget. But in reality, this wasn’t really a trip to NYC.

In October of 2019, my friend L and I boarded the bus for a whirlwind trip to NYC for me to see the Broadway show Hamilton. We arrived in New York around noon, dropped our luggage off at our hotel and took the subway downtown to the 9/11 Museum. I had tickets to the “First Responder” tour. There are so many things I could say about this place…but I truly believe every American needs to go there and experience this hallowed ground and what happened here. It was profoundly meaningful and a place I will never forget. We came back uptown and went to the top of the Empire State Building. It was evening and it was beautiful. We had dinner at 10pm, returned to out hotel and crashed. Up early in the morning to take the train downtown again to board the boat to see the Statue of Liberty. We walked around Liberty Island and enjoyed the views of the City. Then we were off to Ellis Island….fascinating place that someday I’d love to go back and spend more time. But alas, we had to go…back uptown for lunch and I went to the matinee performance of Hamilton. This was my first Broadway show. I will always cherish this memory. The show was incredible and I still know all the words to and can rap the opening song! We returned to the bus and got back home around 9pm…a 36 hour adventure that crammed in a lot in a short time!

And then last week I returned to the City, meeting my bff MC there for 2 days/nights of adventure. Much has happened to me in the years since I was last in NYC. I suffer from a level of anxiety and occasional panic attacks. Had you asked me to take this trip 6 months ago, I would have flatly said no way. But time changes and improves things and I was ready to take this trip. I went by train to the City. I had never taken a train anywhere before and this was really fun. I arrived at Penn Station and to say it was overwhelming is an understatement. I got my bearings and although I was one block from where I should have been, I still managed to get to the hotel and meet MC. I was a bit rattled but I think I did pretty good. We went to dinner just around the corner from the hotel at an Irish joint. Food was delish…Jameson was even better! MC was in the City as she often is for work so on Tuesday morning, off she went to the office. I had scheduled myself to take the hop on/off bus tour of the City. I not really able to hop off at the moment due to a knee injury so this was a perfect way to see the highlights. It was a gorgeous sunny day. The first bus took us downtown through lots of areas, past the 9/11 museum, Wall St, the Brooklyn Bridge, SOHO and so much more. We went up the West Side Highway, enjoying the views of the Hudson River, The Intrepid museum, the Chelsea markets. Bus #2 went uptown…of course through Times Square, the Chrysler Building, all the way up Madison Ave where ALL the fancy designer stores are. We passed by The Met. I had really wanted to go here, see a few exhibits and have lunch, but there was not enough time. We continued down along Central Park, around to Columbus Circle and then back down to Times Square. These two bus trips combined took almost 5 hours….way longer than advertised. The reason for this; traffic…so much traffic. I don’t know how anyone gets anywhere. I could never drive in the City. A small side note…when it was time for me to leave the hotel for the bus tour, I was really struggling. I was afraid. But I KNEW I that not only did I have to do this, I could do this. And I did.

Tuesday evening was epic. MC and I had dinner at a little Italian restaurant close to the hotel. We then walked the 3 blocks to Madison Square Garden where we were to see Stanley Tucci give a talk about his new book “What I ate in one year…and related thoughts”. He was to be interviewed by John Krasinski. Little known facts on John….grew up in my hometown of Newton Ma, graduated from Newton South High School, married actress Emily Blunt who just happens to be the sister of Stanley Tucci’s wife Felicity. This event was to take place in the Theatre at MSG. There was a lot going on that night around the Garden. The Knicks were playing…and so was Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show! In order for us to get to where we needed to be, we walked through a massive crowd of people who were watching the live simulcast of the first VS fashion show in 5 years! I’ve never seen anything like this! The music was pounding, the ladies in the crowd were all dressed up, the models on the screen were not…it was incredible. Had we not had tickets for Stanley, it might have been fun to stay there!

Stanley was wonderful. John is really quite funny so there was a lot of good banter going back and forth. Stanley talked a lot about the relation between food and family and how making the meal is almost more important than eating it. He lamented (and we agreed) about how meals are rarely eaten at a table with the family anymore. Life is too busy. Given the choice between not ever having garlic or onions to cook with ever again, Stanley quickly chose garlic. Onions are far more versatile. It was a wonderful event and we even got a copy of the book! Back to the hotel for a nightcap.

MC and I were both taking the same train home. This made my travel far easier as she knew where to go in the cavernous train station. It pays to have a bff with status as we waited in the Amtrak lounge and got Red Cap service. Bonus! The ride home was peaceful and relaxing. MC got off in Providence as it’s closer to home for her and I continued to Westwood at Rt.128. My friend D was there to greet me and brought me home safe and sound. It was a fun 2 days.

Here are some random thoughts…I know the sun was shining but it was hard to tell since it never gets to the ground. Marijuana is legal in NYC…and EVERYWHERE you go, thats all you can smell. It’s stinks. Every single stranger I interacted with on this trip could not have been nicer or kinder. Everyone is pushing/pulling luggage. There are SO MANY people. Where are they all going? Where do they all live? I could never live in the City. This trip was at times overwhelming for me and there were moments of high anxiety and mild panic. But in the end, I overcame all of that. I’m very proud of myself for fighting my way through and doing what I set out to do. I am grateful for my circle that encouraged me and understood without judgement. I won!

Now it’s off to Florida…..

Well that’s a really good question! I’ve been sort of busy living life.

My last post was in July of 2022, marking the 1 year anniversary of the death of my brother Ron. Since then, so much has happened. I left work in April of 2023 and officially retired in February of this year. It has been a rollercoaster, and to know me is to know I hate rollercoasters!

My life in public safety communications spanned 38 years. I began my career as a Dispatcher for the Bentley College (now University) Police Department. I worked nights and overnights and loved it. I met my best friend at Bentley and here we are over 40 years later and still bff’s! I loved working there. A college campus is very much like a small city or town. The same things happen just in a smaller space. We had a great department with lots of fun characters that came through over my 10 years there. There were shenanigans during summers and break times. We had cookouts in the middle of the night. We went to bars for breakfast. I formed a close relationship with the students from the college newspaper. They would bring me the mock up paper for the publisher to pick up at the police station. I guarded it with my life! These kids were great. Smart, engaging, fun. I also thoroughly enjoyed working with one of the sorority groups. During “pledge week” the young ladies would come into the station late at night and as was customary, I could have them do anything I wanted. There was no hazing here, just fun. I always asked the girls questions about themselves and at the end, asked them to sing the sorority song for me. It was harmless and fun. After 10 years at Bentley, it was time to move on and up to the big time.

My hometown of Newton Ma had combined their police and fire dispatch centers and was for the first time, hiring from “outside”. I applied to be a Dispatcher and was hired. There was so much to learn in a big city dispatch center. Sending cops to calls was easy. The fire department was much harder to learn, at least for me. But I was determined and became very good at the job. After a few years, any and all Police Officers assigned to Dispatch were removed and they made the center completely staffed by civilians. They hired shift supervisors that worked under the command of the Patrol Bureau Captain. Eventually, Dispatch became it’s own specific bureau with a Captain in command. I was promoted to Shift Supervisor and was in charge of the overnight shift. This was my choice. I had always loved these hours. I stayed in that position for several years until the position of Senior Supervisor was created. It became clear that the Captain needed someone to navigate many of the tasks of Dispatch. It became clear because I made it so! I worked exceptionally hard writing training programs, implementing emergency medical dispatch services, creating cohesion between police and fire…so much more.

The position of Senior Supervisor gave me the ability to work not just with the people in dispatch but also throughout the Department and then on to various City Departments. I was a member of the Citywide EMS Committee, I sat on the Fire Department EMS committee, I worked closely with our medical control doctors, the Health Department, School Department, and even the Executive Offices. I did numerous public appearances teaching people about dispatch and EMD (Emergency Medical Dispatch). I spoke to kids, senior citizens, school nurses and so many more. I loved this part of the job. It was very rewarding. But yes, there were parts of the job I did not like. I choose not to lay bare the specifics but just know that in the end, the bad became unbearable. The job took a toll on me. It was time to go, so I did. After 28 years, I left a job where I know I made a difference in the lives of those who I worked for and with. But mostly I made a difference for the citizens of Newton. Nobody can ever take that away from me.

Retired life does not suck. I only answer to me now. I do what I want, when I want. I have spent the months enjoying life. I swim and water run a lot, as much as I can. I worked on my garden. I purged so many things from my home. I bought a new car. I sailed…in June, early September and the end of September. I finally feel like I can travel beyond my comfort zone. A 2-night trip to New York City with my bestie MC awaits me in just over a week. A 10 day pool and sun filled vacation in Florida in November is up next for us. So yeah, retirement does not suck. I don’t know what the future holds for me. But I do know that the choices will be mine. I do hope I will return here more often to tell you all what’s happening in my little world!

One would think being first is a good thing. For this past year, first has been a series of painful moments for this family. Today…July 5, marks the first anniversary of the death of my brother Ron.

Our family has spent the last year with all the “firsts”. The first day, the first week and month. His first birthday, our birthdays, the holiday season, Valentine’s Day, St.Patrick’s Day, Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. These were all the first times we did not have him with us. Some of these days were more painful and difficult than others. These days affected each of us in our own way. And then there were the days with no specific meaning, just a day the reality of his loss snuck up on us and whacked us in the head.

On the 4th of July last year, I was spending the night with my bff MC at her home in Worcester. She had suffered her own devastating loss in February of last year. In the 6 or so weeks prior to the 4th, I had not spoken to Ron. Our last conversation prior to the 4th had not gone well. He was in a drug rage, out of control, unable to be rational, nasty. I ended that conversation. I was not interested in dealing with this behavior. So on the evening of the 4th, around 730-ish, my phone rang and the caller ID indicated it was him. I hesitated for a moment…what would this conversation be like? But I answered anyway.

He sounded wonderful. Really wonderful. I was so surprised…but happy. We did not discuss our last conversation. This family is GREAT at avoidance. Anyway, he was calling to ask me to come to NH in late July to photograph an event at Epping Speedway. Our cousin John was coming from New Mexico for this event. I told Ron I was not sure what I would do. For me, being in the blazing hot sun at a race track for a day was not appealing. I hate the heat! But he was persistent and it was clear he really wanted me to come. I still would not commit but I said I would consider it and decide when it got closer. We didn’t have much more to say…because yeah, avoidance. But the call ended the way all of his calls did with him saying “love you”. I never said it back to him. It wasn’t my thing…still isn’t. But I don’t feel bad because I know he knew I loved him…and always would. I am glad I answered that call.

He died in the wee hours of the morning on July 5. I think as a family, we always knew this was how it would end. I think we all felt a considerable amount of anger at some of the circumstances surrounding his death. The Covid pandemic did him no favors. As a person in recovery, he relied on his meetings and connections with the recovery community. Covid took those connections away and isolated him. He was also dealing with a lung cancer diagnosis and subsequent treatment. He was in remission. But most difficult was his penchant for surrounding himself with less than desirable folks who used him for money and drugs. And in turn, he used them. It was a recipe for disaster. His story is no different than so many addicts…and his end was also no different.

He was a son, a brother, a father, a grandfather, a recovery Dad, a cousin, an asshole, a friend, a biker, a lover, a sentimentalist and a phenomenal breakfast cook. He was many things. But most of all, he was ours. And we miss him.

It is July 5th…the end of the first’s.

I’ve been meaning to write about this for a few weeks now…finally sitting down to tell this story.

A few weeks, back, I had been to a late lunch/early dinner with a friend. It was a perfect Spring evening, warm with a nice breeze. It was after 7pm but the day was still bright as the sun was starting to set.

I had the roof open and all the windows were down as I was driving. It felt so good to shake off the winter cold and let the wind whip thru the car. I had the stereo on of course…I mean isn’t that what you do when you are driving along? I know I was singing along to whatever was on the radio!

As I was driving along, I noticed a white SUV driving next to me on my right side. I didn’t pay much attention to it…except maybe I stopped singing as loud! I looked over at the driver and saw a young man at the wheel. And when I say young, I mean young! He looked about 12 but was likely around 20-ish….if that! He was cute….for a kid! Blonde hair…looked like he just jumped off of the cover of GQ. He was by himself in his fancy Audi SUV. I shook my head a little thinking “it must be nice to have a fancy ride at that age!”

We were coming up to a traffic light and as we approached, the light turned red. We both stopped. There was that moment when you just know someone is looking at you….so I turned and for sure, this young man was looking right at me. And then it happened….

His window was also open. I turned and looked and suddenly, he simply smiled and waved at me and said “hi”. I seriously did not know what to think. What was this little kid doing? Why did he do that? Did he really just do that? Was I seeing things???? And then the light turned green and we were off again, driving side by side down the road.

And then we came to another set of lights. I had this feeling he was going to punch it and scoot thru the lights and keep on going. But he didn’t. He stopped and again, was right beside me. I could have ignored him. I could have kept looking straight ahead. I could have…but I didn’t.

I turned and looked at him and simply asked why did he wave and say hi? I wasn’t mad or mean or confrontational….I was just so curious. And he smiled again, looked right at me and said, “I was just saying hi” And really, you could tell this was exactly what he was doing. Nothing more, nothing less, just a young man smiling at an old lady and saying hello. What could I say to that? So I said that was really nice and I told him I hoped he had a great evening…and he smiled.

The light turned green…and I turned left as he drove off straight ahead. And all I could do was smile thinking what a cool thing it was that just happened. And how more people should just smile and wave and say hello to a stranger. Because it would make the world a better place.

As I make my way on the back roads to the various farms I like to visit, I often see the same folks every week out doing what they do. The walkers, the dogs, the horse riders, the bicyclists. And then there is the Mayor of Lincoln.

For awhile now, even pre-pandemic, I would see some folks gathered in the yard of a home in Lincoln. It was usually just 3 people. In the warmer months, they would sit in chairs in the yard, ostensibly discussing the news of the world. I wondered who they were and what their story was. And then the pandemic hit and the weekly Sunday morning gathering changed to accommodate the need for social distancing. I would drive down the road and see a gentleman and a lady, standing along the roadside while another lady stood in the yard…all of them wearing masks, holding coffee and keeping distance. This went on most every Sunday morning…usually between 9-930. As the months went on and I passed them each week, they would wave or nod and acknowledge me as I drove by. I would nod or wave in return.

A few weeks ago, there they were once again, solving the ills of the world. I decided to stop and say hello. As I pulled up, I put my window down and said “Every week I drive by, I always wonder what the topic of discussion is today…” They chuckled and were very outgoing. The gentleman told me they had seen me pass by many times and asked if I lived nearby. I said I did not but that I enjoyed the scenery along this country road and took it home every week after my farm shopping trips. They invited me to join them! The gentleman went on to tell me that the lovely lady up in the yard was “The Mayor of Lincoln”…and she chuckled.

We chatted for a few more moments and then I wished them well. They told me they were really glad I stopped to say hello. I drove away with a smile on my face and feeling glad I stopped to say hello. So today there they were again BUT in a different location. Rather than being on the road by the side yard, they were a little further up toward the front of the house. The mojo was all wrong! So of course I stopped….

I told them this was all wrong, they were in the wrong spots and that the world was on it’s edge because of it! There was lots of laughter and plenty of excuses as to why the location had changed today. They asked how things were on the farm and I said all was well. And then a discussion was sparked on why the area was called “Nine Acre Corner”….and that Mrs.Wheeler had owned all that land and that if I was interested, I could Google “Nine Acre Corner” and learn the history of the name. Then I was informed that last week was the annual bird count and that the Mayor had led this annual tradition. It was fun. I introduced myself and learned that the other’s were Bill and his wife Pat and the Mayor is Gwen. Lovely people. They said they looked forward to seeing me next Sunday. They are very welcoming and do not fit the stereotype of stodgy Lincoln-ites. I’m glad that I decided to stop a few weeks ago. If I had driven on by, I never would have learned their names, been invited to join them or have known when the annual Lincoln bird count was.

Let’s just get this right out in the open…Blood Farm is a slaughterhouse.

Knowing what goes on here and the visuals you conjure in your mind can be uncomfortable. So for the sake of this writing, the term “processing” will be used.

To know me is to know that I am a fan of locally grown and sourced agriculture. I make it my business to research local farms and stores that sell locally grown fruits, vegetables and meat products. To me, local means fresh and keeps families and farms in business. I like that.

This year has been a challenge for everyone. The Covid crisis is real. And it has impacted farms and families and people everywhere. In the Fall, we were staring down a holiday season that would look very different for most everyone. We were urged to stay vigilant and not to gather in large family or friend groups to help keep Covid at bay. For me, this meant having the holidays at home, alone….like millions of other people around the world. So I had a choice, I could be miserable and have the “poor me” attitude, or I could make the best of it.

Thanksgiving came and went and turkey was cooked, consumed and made into lots of soup. Christmas would soon be here…what to do for dinner??? I know of many local farms but none that really specialize in good quality meats. I had heard of this place called Blood Farm. I knew it was in Groton, Ma., about 45 minutes northwest of here. I’m always up for something new so I did a little more research on this place and found that it was a meat processing farm. It specialized in beef, chicken, pork, lamb and goat. They processed 50 different cuts of beef alone…never mind all the rest of what they cut. I was very intrigued by the idea of having a very fresh cut piece of beef. It would be nothing like what you could buy in the local grocery store.

So a few weeks before Christmas, I convinced my friend T to take a little road trip with me. She is always up for a farm adventure with me. So off we went to Blood Farm with my intent of ordering a special roast for my Christmas dinner. If I was going to be home alone, I wanted a special meal with quality meat. I was willing to pay for that quality. We got there and went into the little office/store they have. There were large cooler/freezer cases with lots of different cuts of meat. We could see through the windows where the meat cutters were doing their work. We could not see the processing section of the farm. We spoke with a very helpful meat cutter who happily guided us through the order process. I placed my order for a 3 plus pound boneless prime rib. T ended up ordering the same, only larger as she has more people to feed! We left there thinking about how cool it was going to be to have this amazing roast for dinner. And yes, we fully understood how freshly “processed” this meat would be.

So on Wednesday before Christmas, T and I once again took the trip out to Groton to pick up the roasts we had ordered. When we arrived shortly after 1030, there was a line waiting to get in. Remember, the office area is small so social distance meant waiting outside. We parked in the rear of the main building and got in line with about 35-40 people in front of us. Thankfully, it was a warm sunny day as the wait would be long. Soon the line behind us swelled and we knew those behind us were in for a much longer wait. But we made the best of it. A young guy was in line behind us. He was a firefighter….you could just tell. And behind him was an older woman wearing flip flops as she trudged across the muddy parking lot to get in line. She clearly had been here before as she made it clear she had never waited in line before. Our fire guy was also a regular. As more people were arriving, there were questions about how long we had been in line. One person responded “not long”. Ever the comedian, I responded “4 hours”! Everyone laughed. Really, lets have some fun while we wait.

And then it happened…..a very large truck pulled down the driveway to one of the side barn buildings we had passed as we stood in line. This was the rendering truck. T and I immediately decided we would not look back as this truck backed in ready to take on it’s load. Some things don’t need to be seen. I felt bad for those in line behind us that were much closer to this truck. So the chatter in our little section of the line continued and we had some more laughs. That is until I made the mistake of turning briefly toward the truck and saw one of the dumpster-like bins being lowered to the ground after it’s contents were dumped in the truck. It was unpleasant. As was the odor now emanating from the truck. Flip Flop lady began to describe things for us and at that moment, I could have vomited on her flip flop feet. I wagged my finger at her and advised her to stop…followed by plugging my ears while “la-la-laling” to stop her. There were chuckles…and I advised those around us that I was serious! By now, we were close to the front of the line, which now snaked all the way down the driveway and around the back of the building. I offered my spot in line to a new arrival for a price! And then it was our turn and we went in to pick up our order. That only took a few minutes and we were out again! People clapped. We really did make the best of the wait and had some laughs to help pass the time.

On Christmas Day, I cooked this roast to perfection. I can not begin to tell you how good it was. As Streisand would say….”it was like buttah…” And for those who are wondering….there is a HUGE difference in quality and taste in a piece of beef that was freshly processed.

I would do this again in a heartbeat….

The cake???? Chocolate with creme de menthe mousse filling, buttercream frosting topped with chocolate ganache!

Merry Christmas to me!!!

Update 2025…

I’m choosing to repost this story for a few reasons….mostly because I loved it when I wrote it. So much has changed since 2020 when I originally wrote this. I retired after 38 years of working in the 9-1-1 industry, and earlier this year, I had both knees replaced. It was not an easy time but I did it thinking it would greatly improve my life. And it did…until my Bingo card came up with a cancer diagnosis in early June. Fast forward to today and I’m looking toward a rather major surgical procedure hopefully early next year to remove this cancer crap. I have been on a weight loss mission…first because it just happened and then because it is necessary to make the surgery as safe as possible. I’ve lost 54 pounds since January and 23 of those have been over the last nine weeks! But today I made stuffing and I plan to eat it…because it’s good. It makes me think of my Mom and how much I miss her at times like this and how I wish she was here to hold my hand. It’s Thanksgiving and I am extremely thankful for my sister and my entire family, both the ones born into this clan and those I have chosen as family. I’m also beyond grateful for my medical team. So tomorrow when you sit down to eat your stuffing, be thankful for everything you have in this life!.

It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything. It’s been a very long, very difficult year with the Covid 19 pandemic. But I will talk about that another day…

Today, it’s about stuffing. Thanksgiving is upon us and this year, nothing is the same. Families are being advised not to gather to celebrate unless you all live together. People are planning outdoor meals, which may not be a bad thing because it’s been a very mild Fall so far…in fact, it’s hard to believe December 1 is just days away. My usual plans for the holiday were cancelled, just like so many other people. But I wanted to make the day as “normal” as I could. So it was time to make stuffing. Mom’s stuffing.

Mom always made her stuffing from scratch. No Pepperidge Farm or Stove Top for her! She would reach deep into the cabinet and pull out the old meat grinder. I’m not sure but I think when I was a kid in the 60’s, that old grinder was 100 yrs old….and I’m pretty sure either my sister or my brother has it now, complete with the falling apart shoe box she kept it in.

She would attach the grinder to the counter and run a couple of pieces of bread through it just to make sure there was no left over rust on the inside. And then in would go the onions and celery. By the time she was done grinding, she would be weeping tears from onion fumes but that was all part of the process. Out would come the cast iron frying pan and she would drop two sticks of butter in and melt that down. In would go the onions and celery and the aroma filled the house. It was wonderful. And then of course she would add a significant amount of the famous Bell’s Seasoning. Everyone uses that, right?

In a Revere pan on the stove, she would boil the turkey neck and gizzards and set it aside for later. She had a big yellow Pyrex glass bowl (I still have it!) and she would take “stuffing bread” and tear it into small pieces in the bowl. I always helped tearing the bread. Stuffing bread is really just plain white bread that is not sliced…but is marketed as “stuffing bread”…and yes, I buy it. Once the bread was ready and the onions and celery were soft, she would pour that over the bread and start to mix it up. That water she had that was flavored from the turkey neck would be used a cup at a time to moisten the bread and help mix the vegetables in. She would sprinkle some more Bell’s in as necessary. Can you smell it? I can….

It was a an art to get the water/bread mixture just right. You can’t have too much and you can’t have too little. But you just knew when enough was enough. I watched Mom make this stuffing every year at Thanksgiving and again at Christmas. And then that old grinder would go back in the box for another year.

I made stuffing today. I don’t have a grinder so I chopped the celery and onions by hand. And I weeped over the onions, just like Mom did. I have to confess that I make the stuffing a little different than she did. I add sausage and apple to the mixture. Other than that, it is the same. I tore the bread by hand and boiled the parts, just like she did. She would probably not approve of the additions I make but she would approve of me making it by hand, like she did.

So much is different this year. But I will have turkey, stuffed with Mom’s stuffing and it will feel a little more normal. I hope you can find a little normal in your holiday. And eat stuffing!

I’m feeling a tad sentimental today as this date marks 15 years since my Mom passed away. She was 74 at the time of her death and had succumbed to the ravages of throat cancer. She was diagnosed in February of the previous year and went through hell for the next 11 months. But there were some victories along the way and we celebrated those moments.

She was born in November of 1930, the 4th and last daughter of Esther and Maurice Costello. Her older sisters were Rita, Roberta and Katherine (known as Kay). She had no brothers. She grew up in Watertown and graduated from Watertown High School in 1948. She met my Dad while they were both in Junior High School….and they remained sweethearts throughout school. They married in April of 1951.

She wasn’t good enough for my father…or so his mother always said. Don’t all mothers of sons say that about the girl their son marries?  They went on to have 3 kids…Cathy, Ron and me. They led a good life for many years but then life got in the way and the good times were not always so good anymore. But that was their life and they rode the ups and downs like any other family would have. My Dad died in 1980 at the tender age of 50. Mom turned 50 later that same year but never dated (maybe once) and never married again.

She was an interesting woman in many ways. She loved to dance, and she and Dad could jitterbug like there was nobody watching. One of my best memories was having both Mom and Dad participate in a 50’s concert when I was in High School and seeing their picture in MY yearbook, dressed in their finest 50’s costumes, dancing across the stage. Really…who get’s to say their parents are in their yearbook. I always thought it was cool.

She wasn’t the best housekeeper but she did make sure we always left the house with clean clothes, clean bodies and a full stomach. She made the worst beef stew. You couldn’t call it stew…it was really fat riddled chunks of beef, carrots and who knows what else in a broth that tasted like dish water. It was gruesome. She knew it but made us eat it anyway. Apple Pie was not a specialty either. It always looked great until you cut it open to find lots of crust and maybe some apples.

But she made the best chocolate bread pudding with hard sauce. And she could silence a leg of lamb like you read about. And I don’t care what anyone says, her’s was the best turkey stuffing in the world. No argument. But she did always forget to put the fancy salt and pepper shakers on the table for holiday dinners….

She has a sense of adventure, particularly in her Pontiac Bonneville nicknamed “Black Beauty”. She had rules. Don’t ever call her “Ma”. Don’t even think of putting your feet on the rungs of the dining room chairs. And don’t slam the screen door as you dashed out the back door.

She and I struggled in the later years. Mostly because when my father died, we were forced to be more like roommates and less like mother and daughter. She did her best but struggled with boundaries as I got older (late 20’s into 30’s and beyond). I had to push back and put my foot down and that was not easy. She resented me and I resented her interfering in my life. I came to realize it was the only way she knew how to hold on to me. But when she got sick, none of that mattered. I did what needed to be done for her. And so did Cathy and Ron, albeit from a distance as they lived hours away. But they rose to the challenges when it was necessary. We did the best for her that we could.

Her funeral service was a little different. Thelma and Louise sent a lovely tropical floral arrangement. As we processed out of the church after the mass, the music playing in the church was “When the saints go marching in”. As we said our final goodbyes at the gravesite, the song “Rock and Roll Part 2” was played from a boombox in the back of the family limo as we tossed handfuls of snow in the air. She would have loved it.

She was proud of the three of us. Through circumstances that really don’t matter, she did not have a relationship with her granddaughters. If she had lived, she would have. Just because she did not say it did not mean she did not love us. She wasn’t the demonstrative kind. But we knew…

Fifteen years have passed and I miss her, sometimes more than I care to admit. Sadly, there is no snow on the ground here. If there was, I would have been throwing it up in the air this afternoon as I went to visit her at the cemetery. She would have liked that.

 

When I woke up this morning, the score was still the same and the season was still over. It hurt and I was not prepared for it to end that way. For twenty years, we here in New England have been privileged to witness some of the most exciting moments in football history. All of it was brought to us by the the greatest coach in history working with the greatest quarterback in history. Deny that if you dare…

Six Super Bowl rings. Six Duck Boat parades. Six.

But even though we never liked to think of it, you always knew that it would end someday. But is today that day? Nobody really knows. We are just over 12 out from the abrupt end of this football season. There is plenty of time to reflect on this season and where it went right…and where it went wrong. The big question is what with TB12 do? Nobody knows. The amount of speculation this season has been incomprehensible. The talking heads are just that, talking heads. They know nothing. The only one who knows is TB12 himself. He did say he was not inclined to retire. But if and where he plays next season is a mystery not even he knows the answer to. It’s a waiting game. There is pain and angst in Patriot Nation today.

And today there is pain and angst around the world. There are countless homeless people in our own back yard. Children are hungry. People are dying from drug addiction and gun violence. The man who leads this country is certifiably crazy and extremely dangerous. We could be on the brink of another war in the Middle East or with North Korea. ..or both. Australia is burning. Climate change is real. I could go on but I’m hoping you get the point.

A football season is over. So what. Let’s keep things in perspective.