Love Actually

“Whenever I get gloomy about the state of the world, I think of the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion’s starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed. But, I don’t see that. Seems to me that Love is everywhere…If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you find that Love actually is all around.”

                             -Opening line from the movie, “Love Actually”.

I Love this kind of thinking. I try to adhere to it every day. It makes me happy and confident. Confident that we’re going in the right direction as the human race. I have always believed that God is Love. And, that Love ( God ) is the highest energy in the universe. I sense that all of us here on the planet are being pulled toward Love by this energy. I refer to this phenomenon as evolution. Evolution of a spiritual nature. 

Without it, what would be the purpose of life? If we didn’t have something beautiful to strive for our very existence would seem pointless. Love is a gift. It has the ability to make us happy and decide that all is well. We all want and need that. We are Love. We are made of Love because our creator is Love and this Love is within us. The very cool thing is that no one can take that away from us. There is nothing a determined individual can do to deprive us of this gift because it is a Divine Gift bestowed upon us by God. 

The opening and closing scenes in the movie, “Love Actually” take place in Heathrow Airport in London, England. People of all ages and races are seen hugging and kissing each other with glee. The smiles are contagious. Heart warming to observe. Love is what connects us to each other and helps us fall in Love with life. It is powerful beyond measure. And, it is actually all around us because God is all around us and within us. 

Our purpose each day is to Love as much as possible. We are given the assignment from Heaven to be Love. To think of it as a verb. An action word. To be in the state of Love. When we put the effort in, the rewards are endless. Serotonin- the happy hormone- circulates all around our brain. The good feeling we all crave envelops us and before we know it, we’ve encouraged others to be Love, as well. 

Every spiritual teacher I know says that we get what we focus on every day. What we think about expands. We actually create our own experience with our thoughts. So it makes so much sense to me to dream about Love. To speak of Love. To speak in Loving tones to ourselves and everyone else. To look around in every moment and notice the things that we Love. Like sunshine and birds chirping. Children laughing, the ocean, rivers and mountains. Beautiful pictures. It’s so important to make a conscientious effort to participate in Love at every turn. Nothing matters more. 

I know that there are bad influences a plenty in our world that try to entice us to stray from Love. Greed, self-centeredness, disregard for those in need and refusal to share our resources may temporarily seem wise choices. But, in the end, they never, ever lead us to Love which is the foundation of happiness. Countless times I have seen people of considerable means treat the less fortunate among us as if they are invisible. As though they are not connected to us. As if they are separate and not one with each other. I see this as shortsightedness and I ask God to open the eyes and hearts of those who do not understand that Loving and helping others will always provide the happiness that material goods can not. 

Wayne Dyer, one of the most Loving souls I’ve ever known, used to say all the time that we should never pass another person without offering them something. A smile can go such a long way to brighten another’s day. And, it costs nothing. I Love it when people smile at me. Imagine how much a homeless person Loves to be smiled at. I often think Of Jesus’ words, “What so ever you do to the least of my brothers that you do unto me.”  

I start to feel blue sometimes when I read about people being hateful to each other. When I notice people bullying others simply because their skin color, religion, sexual orientation or gender is different it saddens me and gives me a bad feeling that lingers for a while. Then, I remember that people project outward how they are feeling inside. Sometimes, people pull away from Love without even realizing it. They act in an unloving manner toward others because they do not feel Loved. I pray for them instead of judging them. They are lost. Off course. All they have to do is reconnect to Love and they can change in an instant. We have free will in every moment to decide in which direction we want to go. Another cool thing about life.

I truly believe that there are more Loving people in this world than not. Love is all around and all that we need. Set your sights on kindness and you will find it. Look for the people spreading Love and they will appear before your very eyes. They are there doing good deeds daily. Get involved with those people and notice happy hormones dancing around in your head. The people causing all the trouble in the world get all of the attention for some odd reason. But, they are not in the majority. And, trust me, they are not happy. Send them light and Love and never emulate their ways. 

If you find yourself in a bad frame of mind, drop the thoughts you are experiencing and zero in on Love. Do something nice for someone else. Even if you don’t know them. Hug, laugh, smile count your blessings and day dream about Love. If you’re struggling to shake off the bad feelings, think about the scene at Heathrow Airport where everyone's so happy to see each other. Make a collage of smiling faces in your mind. Envision everything that you Love. Make lists of people, places and things that you Love. Immerse yourself in Love and before you know it, your perspective will change for the better. You are entitled to Love because you are Love. Study on that one, my friend!

The Rescue

While sitting in the backseat of my dear friend’s car en route to Newark, New Jersey one afternoon, I called my brother, John, to remind him that I was due to travel to Costa Rica early the next morning for a long anticipated vacation to visit my daughter, Maureen, and her boyfriend, Tom. Those two lovebirds were spending the winter on the Nicoya Peninsula just a few blocks from the beautiful Pacific Ocean. They were kind enough to invite me to join them for a ten day stay. And, I was wise enough to accept  their gracious offer.

Our wonderful family friend, Mark, and his son, James, offered to drive me to my hotel near the Newark Airport on their way to Madison Square Garden to watch a Rangers’ hockey game. Perfect. As soon as their conversation drifted deeply into sports, I decided that a chat with my brother would be a good diversion. I have a funny habit of checking in with my seven siblings before I hop on a plane to anywhere. Ever since that Malaysian plane disappeared midair, I’ve had the urge to hear their voices before taking off into the wild blue yonder. It’s not that I think disaster is possibly looming for my flight. But, connecting with them gives me a sense of comfort that just plain makes me feel good. 

As soon as Mark, my chauffeur for the day, ascertained that I was talking to John, he offered an hello from the front seat which John immediately returned. These two men have always shared a friendly football rivalry involving The New York Giants and The Philadelphia Eagles. So, gentle taunting took place. Then, all of a sudden, my brother asked me why Mark would be driving me to the Philadelphia Airport ( my usual airport ) when he lives in North Jersey. I explained that I would be departing from the Newark Airport in the morning and would be staying in a hotel nearby.

At once, John let out a booming, “WHAT? You’re staying at a hotel near the Newark Airport when I only live fifteen minutes away? Why aren’t you staying with me?” I started to laugh and say, “ Don’t tell me you live near the airport?”    “Yes! Yes, I do. Please cancel your hotel plans and spend the night at my house. I’ll make dinner for us and we’ll have a great evening.” Well, as nice an offer as that was, I knew it was too late to obtain a refund on my room. So, I reluctantly declined my brother’s kind offer and asked for a raincheck. Plus, I wasn’t sure that he really lived only fifteen minutes from the airport. We all know people who say things like that but actually mean more like 35 to 45 minutes. I had to be up and at it by 4:30 the next morning and it was snowing. So, I figured that that plan might not be the best under those circumstances.

Now, in case you’re wondering why I didn’t know the close proximity between his home and the airport, I have two good excuses. First of all, no one in South Jersey, where I live, knows anything about North Jersey. The reverse is true, as well. Secondly, most of our large family lives in Margate City which is in the southern part of the state. John and his family travel to our events all the time. But, we rarely travel north to his home because there are simply too many of us to stay overnight. So, you may think the story ends there. But, no. There’s a rescue involved. My big brother saved the day for me and I’ll be forever grateful. Here’s what happened…

The hotel (and, I use that word loosely) where I reserved a room turned out to be somewhat of a nightmare. I didn’t book my accommodations until the day before because there had been another plan in the works which didn’t require an overnight stay. But, that eventually fell through. By the time I started looking for hotels, the majority of them ( meaning the good ones! ) were already sold out. So, I settled on a hotel that had a degree of name recognition. It was across the street from the airport which I thought could be a real plus as it was March and the ground was covered in snow. My first clue that this establishment was less than stellar should have been the fact that there were no reviews for it online. In this day and age, reviews are everything. 

It didn’t seem like a big deal to me when I was safe and sound at home making the reservation because I thought to myself how bad could it be as I recognized the brand name. And, I knew that I would only be there a short night as I had to be at the airport by 5:00 am for the early flight. Oh, what could go wrong? Don’t be too fussy, I thought to myself. Just book it and be done with it. It will all work out well, I assumed. Boy, was I in for shock and awe mixed with serious regret.

As Mark, James and I pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, we all sort of looked at each other with questioning expressions. I quickly calmed their fears by assuring them that I would be fine. I told them that it couldn’t be as bad as it seemed. After all, the name brand and everything. I felt that I had no option but to grin and bare it at that point. So, I sent them on their merry way to the hockey game with much reluctance on their part. If I had allowed them to come inside the lobby with me, they never would have let me stay. They’re true blue friends that way. But, I hurried them along because I knew they had a schedule to keep.

Big mistake. Huge! As they pulled away and I opened the lobby door, I felt like I was entering another world altogether. It was an unsightly room completely devoid of charm. I had looked forward a bit to getting inside because it was freezing outside in the March air only to realize immediately that there was little to no heat in the lobby. The room consisted of old benches pressed up against the windows with a bare, dirty looking linoleum floor. It was dimly lit which was probably intentional, I thought to myself. Now, I’m not the spoiled type who requires nothing but the best in every situation. But, this place was starting to give me the creeps. Little did I know what lie ahead.

I cautiously walked up to the front desk which was small, scratched up and dented and asked the clerk for the key to my room. He gave it to me with directions on how to locate it. I tried to muster up an adventurous spirit as I walked out into the cold, dark night. I kept telling myself that before I know it, I will be on a plane to Costa Rica and this will all be a distant memory. 

This hotel was more like a motel in it’s design. The rooms were separate from the lobby building and around back in what could only be described as a spooky courtyard, of sorts. All I could think of was oh boy, what have I gotten myself into? I suddenly missed Mark, James and everyone I’ve ever known immensely. 

My room was on the second floor just above the dumpsters which I was sure were full of rats that would be ascending the rickety, outside stairs along side me any minute now. My mind was starting to conjure up wild ideas. When I turned the key in the doorknob, the door opened before it should have. Before the key turned all the way. Not a good omen for this dwelling. The door itself was so flimsy that I’m sure I could have single handedly broken it down. Not very reassuring. Everything inside was so old and decrepit that I couldn’t bring myself to sit down on the beds, or the lone chair. That room had seen better days, for sure. The bathroom was quite yucky to say the least. And, there was a series of little holes in the wall just above each bed. I’m sure they were drilled there so that the exterminator could spray chemicals to end the bedbug epidemic that went on prior to my arrival. Oh, Lordy!!! This place should have been torn down twenty years ago.

At that moment, I only knew one thing for sure. I was out of there. No way, Jose, was I going to spend one more minute in that sad excuse for a hotel. Oh, no! Before I abandoned the room, the universe seemed to want to give me one more reason for an exit. The sliding glass door on the far side of the room. It was so loose and unstable that an intruder would classify it a “piece of cake” to open. No effort needed whatsoever.   Okay. Enough signs. My decision to bail out couldn’t have been easier. Fortunately, I knew I had my big brother, John, as a plan B. Time for a phone call.

But, what if he was just being the nice guy he always is to everyone? What if he really didn’t live that close to the airport? What if the snow prevented him from picking me up, or dropping me off at the airport at 5:00 am? Oh boy. Don’t panic, Shelagh. Plan B definitely has to work because Plan A has officially fallen through. Flat on its face. My hands were numb from the cold as I dialed John’s number in the dark, dreaded courtyard. 

Much to my delight, he was thrilled that I needed to be rescued. He had his hat & coat on before I could even tell him about the hotel. He told me to save the story for the car ride and to look for him in fifteen minutes. Yay! I knew that my next move had to be to try to get a refund on the room. The desk clerk/manager/only employee on the premises did not take kindly to my situation. He acted mystified by my unfavorable critique of the hotel. He was not at all happy when I politely, yet firmly, described my room as unsanitary and unsafe. He refused to take the charge off my credit card. Fortunately, later that evening, I was able to get it dropped when I called the main headquarters. Somehow, miraculously, I just happened to have the magic phone number that reached a considerate person who seemed spooked by my legitimate claim that I didn’t feel safe staying there. 

At that point, I just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible because I was so cold and the whole thing was giving me a bad feeling. Just in the nick of time, John showed up. Exactly fifteen minutes after I called him. Not one minute later. He could see me in the lobby through the window before I could see him. So, he came inside to get me. What I remember him saying distinctly was, “Hurray up! Just get in the car quickly!” Before we pulled out of the parking lot, he said, “That lobby reminded me of the worst bus station I’ve ever been in!” I laughed in agreement and joy that it was finally over. He cringed at my tale. 

During the car ride ( the exactly, for sure, fifteen minute car ride! ), John described the delightful dinner he was cooking up for us at his home. I was finally starting to relax. During my hotel ordeal, it had not occurred to me that I had no plan for dinner had I stayed there. On top of everything, I would have been mighty hungry. That really, really would have been a long night’s journey into day. 

The evening turned out to be wonderful. John & I caught up on our lives and those of our children over a hot, tasty meal and a little television. All was well. I got a good night’s sleep. Very peaceful. And, as promised, he drove me to the Newark Airport leaving his home at 4:45 am in the dark and snow and arriving at precisely 5:00 am. Fifteen minutes! I told my very kind brother that I’d never forget the rescue and how much it meant to me. I said that maybe I’d even write about it some day!

Reunioning

                                              

I hope no one minds, but I think I just changed the noun reunion into a verb. An action word to be exact. I had to do it to be able to accurately explain what I’ve been up to lately. I’ve been reunioning for the last eight months and having a ball. 

It all started a while back when I asked one of my high school classmates if she thought anyone would mind if I organized our 45th reunion. We graduated from Holy Spirit High School in Absecon, New Jersey in 1971. This dear, old friend gave me the go ahead with glee. She was thrilled that I wanted to do it. And, she assured me that everyone else would be, too. That was all I needed to hear and immediately got the ball rolling. 

I instinctively knew it would be a fun, easy endeavor because I felt confident that I knew what I was going to do. The reason for this sense of security is that I had  organized our last high school reunion a few years ago and it all worked out well. Everyone seemed happy with the result. Thank God because when I took on that challenge, I had no idea what I was doing and all hell seemed to be breaking loose in my life at the same time. 

In the eight months prior to the first reunion I ran for our class, Hurricane Sandy hit New Jersey with a vengeance. It wreaked havoc on the barrier island where I resided fifteen miles away from our high school. The aftermath of that storm required months and months of concentrated effort on the part of every resident to clean up the island and regain some sense of normalcy. Every free moment was spent drying out our homes, schools, stores, etc… We were assigned the enormous task of returning all of the sand that had blanketed the island back to the beach where it rightly belonged. 

In the midst of all of that, my dear old Dad died. As I dealt with my grief, I was given the duty of executrix of his estate. An assignment I was completely unqualified for, to say the least. There were actually a few more bumps in the road I had to deal with at that time, as well. But, in the back of my mind, I kept thinking that I better get going with planning a fun evening for my high school classmates  because, as we all know, time flies. I kept telling myself that I had always been in good standing with these friends and I better not risk it now by reneging on my promise to organize the reunion. 

So, I stepped up to the plate and began building a plan. At first, I didn’t have time to gather a committee to help me. I just went it alone. I chose the date, the location, the DJ and opened a new bank account for our class. I didn’t report in to anyone. I just kept going with the plan that was forming in my head daily. I didn't have a clue as to whether it would all come together. I had so much on my plate that I didn’t have time to wonder if anyone would approve of my decisions. I was on a roll and things seemed to be falling into place quite nicely. 

Classmates started asking if they could help and I began delegating left and right. These wonderful friends were willing to do anything it took to bring a great reunion to fruition. Next thing you knew, we were all at The Log Cabin on the bay in Margate, New Jersey having a ball. I am a keen observer of life. I looked around all evening and marveled at the fact that the reunion was actually taking place. It was happening. As our classmates poured through the door and, then, onto the dance floor, I was in true amazement. Borderline shock that it had all worked out.

I felt like I was experiencing some sort of a miracle. I began thanking God, my Mom and Dad and everyone in Heaven for Divine Intervention. I almost couldn’t believe it. I went from no plan and no direction to a well crafted plan with a successful conclusion. Yay! Three cheers! Phew! Friends were congratulating me and thanking me for creating such an enjoyable evening for our class. I graciously accepted their gratitude all the while laughing to myself. If they only knew how close we came to having pizza in someone’s backyard for the reunion. Or, worse, no reunion at all. If they could have seen the way I was “flying by the seat of my pants” the entire time leading up to the reunion, they would have been stunned. 

But, that was then and this is now. What a difference the passage of time can bring. Last night was our 45th high school reunion and it was wonderful in every way. I actually knew what I was doing this time around. There was no stress. No second guessing myself. No worries. Just pure fun from the day I got the okay to proceed with the planning. Or, what I would like to call “ The Reunioning”.

Again, I chose the venue, the date, the menu, the DJ and determined the cost per person all on my own. It would have taken many meetings if we had to have a general consensus on all of those decisions. I had confidence that my classmates had faith in my judgement. This go around, I decided that the invitation should be sent via email. So, I formed a wonderful committee with the soul intent of acquiring as many email addresses as we could. We searched the highways and byways for our classmates. At times, a little detective work was needed. If we knew anyone that might vaguely know how to get in touch with a classmate, we were on it. We began this quest with zero email addresses and ended up securing about 160, or so. It was a wonderful team effort.

Our intent was to inform everyone of the reunion and then leave it up to them as to whether they wanted to join us, or not. We never wanted to pressure anyone into attending our class party. I fully understand that not everyone feels comfortable being part of a high school reunion. I think this is universal. My guess would be that many people fear being judged by their classmates even though the time they spent together in school was many, many moons ago.   The old “I’m not good enough” feeling surfaces and creates anxiety that makes it not worth it.

I had the joy and privilege of connecting with many of my classmates on a regular basis throughout the entire “reunioning” process. We communicated with each other in every way possible. Email, phone calls, hand written letters (old school!), meetings at different classmates’ homes and my all time favorite- “walk and talks” on the boardwalk. 

Each time we gathered, organizing the reunion was our top priority. Well, for at least the first fifteen minutes, that is. Then, we’d drift off into our old high school stories. We magically were transformed back into the silly, fun loving teenagers we were back in the halls of Holy Spirit High School. We would laugh and laugh as one story after another was shared. Then, as the chairperson, I would start to silently panic as I realized we’re not accomplishing what we set out to do. I would call everyone back to order— at one home using a wine opener as a gavel, of sorts. Yes. There was wine at times. How else was I to bribe people into coming out to help me on bitter cold, snowy nights? Can you blame me?  Sometimes, you’ve just got to do what you’ve got to do, right?

When the big night came—our 45th Reunion—I arrived very early for the event. I wanted to relax and collect my thoughts so that I could help every classmate feel right at home as they entered the ballroom. Wherever I go in my life, I always appreciate being greeted by a smiling face. It puts me at ease and helps me feel like I am where I belong. So, I wanted to be that person for my old friends. 

Right off the bat, everyone who came to the registration table to sign in was cheerful and genuinely happy to be a part of such an joyous event. Many attendees arrived at the same time and no one showed any annoyance at having to wait patiently in line to sign in and receive a name tag. And, speaking of name tags, what a brilliant item they are to have on hand when you are suddenly socializing with people you haven’t seen in ages. Some people look amazingly like their old high school selves but just a bit older. And, understandably so, others don’t look familiar at all. A tricky situation, indeed, when you are trying your best as hostess to make everyone feel comfortable. As if we had all been together just last week!

I was definitely “winging it” at times throughout the evening when it came to remembering names. I felt a connection to my Dad because he was a master of avoiding awkward moments of name forgetting. He would always smile and say in a very welcoming way, “ Hello, sweetie! ( Honeypie, Darling, Dear… ) It’s so good to see you!”  He would then launch right into a friendly conversation so easily that the person whose name he couldn't remember wouldn’t even notice his forgetfulness. It’s a skill most people would do well to master.

The best memory of the evening was being out on the dance floor which was full all evening because the DJ was superb. All I asked him to play was fun 60’s & 70’s dance music and he really came through for us. Not a bit of shyness from my dear old pals. Every girl & every guy took turns spinning around the floor just as we had always done at the very popular Friday night dances in our high school cafeteria oh so many years ago. 

About four or five different times, classmates came up to me while I was “getting jiggy with it” on the dance floor and asked me to give a speech. Their intentions were good. Of course. But, there was no way that I was going to interfere with the amazing energy that was buzzing all around the dancers. Everyone was happy, laughing, smiling and having the time of their lives. It would have been a crime to make that come to a screeching halt just to hear me say a few words. Words that I couldn’t come up with anyway because I was so caught up in the moment. And, we all know that when the fun stops, people go home. I sure didn’t want that to happen. Oh, no! So we danced on.

I had thanked all of the helpers on our reunion committee several times on social media throughout the planning process. A speech from me was absolutely unnecessary. So, each time the request came my way, I just smiled, hugged the person and continued to dance the night away.  

The greatest thrill of the evening for me was watching everyone so easily interact with each other as if they were all still best friends who got together often. The truth is that we are a diverse group from all over the U.S. now. Many of the attendees mentioned that they hadn’t been to a reunion for twenty, thirty and even forty years. I guess that maturity, genuine love and respect for one another and happy memories of our days at Holy Spirit High School, set the tone for the splendid occasion that was our 45th high school reunion. How lucky we are!

Be Good To People

            

As I left the Spring Lake boardwalk today after a very enjoyable walk, I saw a sign on the back of a car with the words, “Be Good To People”. I stopped in my tracks and felt the beauty of that saying wash over me. Yes. Be good to people. So simple. So uncomplicated. Great idea. I think we should promote that thought every day everywhere we go. 

It’s just another way of expressing Jesus’ command to “Love One Another”. Help people. Be kind to them. Listen to people. Give them the benefit of the doubt when they are expressing their opinions by assuming they have good intentions. Be a fan. A cheerleader, of sorts, to those who seem to have no one on their side.

Want the best for everyone. All the wonderful things we have going for us in our lives we should want for others, as well. Share our good fortune with those who are in need. Try to lift another’s spirits when they seem down and out. Spread love, light and joy around because they are as contagious as bad moods. 

Be a peacemaker-always recognizing that sometimes it’s better to be kind than it is to be right. Take the high road by forgiving those who wrong us even if they don’t care if you forgive them. Be silly and goofy and kooky if you feel that the energy in a situation needs to be raised. A little humor can go a long way in diffusing a challenging moment. 

Hug people. Kiss them if you think it would be appropriate.  Tell them that everything’s going to be all right even if you’re not sure it is. Wishful thinking can create positive results if you just try. We all need encouragement at times. Sprinkle it everywhere. Shower it all over the place. I love, love, love this line from a James Taylor song, “Shower the people you love with love. Show them the way that you feel. Things are gonna be much better if you only will…” And, shower the people you don’t even know with love, too. 

Smile all the time at everyone you meet. I love it when I come upon a stranger on my walkabouts who is already smiling at me before I even notice their presence. That’s a gift from God, really. It has the power to elevate your mood instantly. It’s very cool. It’s totally groovy when I’m driving and someone let’s me into their lane all the while smiling at me. That makes me happy and encourages me to do the same to others. 

There are countless ways we can be good to people throughout the day. All it takes is the deep desire to do so. Next thing you know, you are spreading goodwill left and right creating laughter, camaraderie, peace and love. Yay! What a great example we are to those around us when we are pleasant and helpful. 

And, the beauty of all this is that whatever goodness we send out to others comes right back to us in many different forms. That’s The Law of Attraction, or Karma, at work. The energy we transmit into the universe, whether negative or positive, connects with like energy, grows in strength and comes sailing on back to us. So, being good to people, as the sign says, is an awesome way to  improve our own lives. It’s actually a win/win. We make ourselves happy when we are “ showering people with love”. Isn’t that marvelous?

NEVER ENOUGH

As I sat on the beautiful beach today in Sea Girt, New Jersey completely focussed on the ocean and the sky, it occurred to me that I feel the same way about the beach that I do about my children. I can never get enough of either. There will never be a day where I will say that I’ve had my fill of spending time with my two daughters. And, in my wildest dreams, I can’t imagine passing up a beach day for any other activity.

I’ve always known this but I’ve never really been able to voice these feelings before. Perhaps because I never made the connection between the importance of each in my life. Both my daughters and the ocean fill me with a deep joy, a sense of calmness and a profound oneness with God. That is because I know that they are a gift to me from the Divine Source who loves me more than I can fathom. 

I knew from the moment each of my darling girls were placed in my arms, that I was being given a treasure, a piece of God to be loved and cared for with all of my heart. The birth of my Meghan in 1984 and Maureen in 1986, was a direct communication from The Good Lord to me that conveyed the message that I am cherished. That I am blessed. I have enjoyed every day of motherhood. Even the sick days. And, the college days when they were both 3000 miles away from me and my heart ached in their absence. I could never get enough.

When they were both in grade school, I volunteered practically every day in any capacity I could just to be a part of their world. I was Homeroom Mother many years in a row. I went on countless class trips taking in every experience as if I were on a Caribbean vacation even though I was actually deep inside a real cave with bats flying around. Twice! No joke. Crystal Cave. The classic 2nd grade field trip for our school. That’s the cave that little seven year old Meghan begged me to take her out of because she sensed she was going to get sick when we were all  very deep in the dark cave with a guide leading us further and further into the abyss. I remember trying my best that day to explain to that little dear why we couldn’t abandon the group in the darkness. The words, “please trust me, sweetie” came forth from me over and over again. We eventually made it out into the light just in the nick of time if you know what I mean.

When both girls announced separately that they wanted to go to college in California- the other side of the country- I took only one week to get over the shock. Then, I joined in and visited them as often as possible. Fortunately, they attended the same University. I was actually at their college more than their roommates’ parents who lived in California. I recall that the word obsessed was used to describe me by my younger daughter, in particular, but always in a light hearted, funny way. I guess they, too, sensed that I could never get enough of them. And, it’s true. Don’t get me started on the tear-filled scenes I was famous for at both the Philadelphia and Los Angeles airports. People are probably still talking about me. Wondering if I ever got it together!

I have loved every age and every stage of their lives. I can honestly say that they have always been my best friends even when they were very young. Our connection is deep and extremely rewarding. I could hang out with them at a laundromat and have a great time. I just love being in their energy field. And, when we are about to part ways, I start missing them long before they leave my side. Any amount of time I spend with them is too short. And, there’s nothing I can do about it. That’s just the way that it is. They are my everything just as my seven siblings and I were the earth, the moon and the stars to our sweet Mother, Jane.  

The same warm feeling I get from spending time with my girls envelopes me as soon as I catch my first glimpse of the ocean each day. No matter what’s happening in my world, the smell of the salt air and the gorgeous view of the sky, the waves and the seagulls makes my spirits soar.  All of my cares and worries vanish suddenly as if by magic. I love all sorts of beach days. Sunny warm days and cloudy, windy ones, too. They are all perfect to me. I thank God profusely for the opportunity to sit in my beach chair and take it all in. I know that it’s all as big as it seems. 

The seashore is a miracle to me. It is Heaven right here on earth. Watching the ocean with the waves crashing against the shore, the clouds floating above and the soft sand covering my feet is the greatest show on earth. I can’t get enough of it. Through osmosis, I become a part of it all. I am one with all of it’s beauty. There is no separation between the beach and me. I used to love to read and nap on the beach, but I can’t do it anymore because I can’t take my eyes off all of the splendor right in front of me. It would be akin to going to the movies and bringing a magazine to read. You would miss the whole show.

When I count my blessings each day, I start with the good fortune I have in being Meghan and Maureen’s mother. We are together even when we are physically miles apart because they are always in my thoughts. So, too, the beach. Even when I am in the middle of busy Philadelphia, my thoughts easily drift to the sea. Meghan, Maureen and the ocean are my center because they are of God. They are Peace, Love and comfort to me. Thank you for these gifts, Dear Lord!

If You Can Parallel Park, You Can Do Anything

If You Can Parallel Park, You Can Do Anything

Sometimes, I am an awesome parallel parker. I can whip my Honda Accord into a tight spot like a pro. Like a mean, lean parking machine worthy of a standing ovation. I have actually had people clap for me when they’ve seen me slide into a patch of street so small that they wouldn’t dare to dream about trying it themselves.  People marvel at my confidence, determination and willpower as I maneuver my wheels in the right direction at the right time. When I have to get into a ridiculously tiny parking place because I’m running late or that spot’s my only hope, that’s where my skill and talent for “paralleling” really shines. 

One of my darling daughters lives in South Philadelphia and I love to visit her often. So, lest you think I don’t know tough parking dilemmas, her neighborhood is a prime example of parallel parking difficulty. It’s always a challenge. Trust me. Especially on a rainy, dark night. Good Lord, it’s tricky at times like that. But, I can do it for some unknown reason. I think I just will myself into the spot. And, prayer often comes in handy, too. On many occasions, I have asked everyone in Heaven to assist me. When the mission is accomplished, I never forget to heap praise and thanks on my Divine helpers who often include my Mom and Dad.

But, other times, I am the world’s worst parallel parker in the history of parallel parking. I really mean it. I stink. I really, really stink out loud. Sometimes, I can’t park my car to save my life. I’ve had people- especially in South Philly- laugh at me because I am suddenly totally inept at “paralleling”. I guess they are not actually laughing at me as much as they are laughing at the hopeless situation I’ve placed myself in. They can relate to the futility of trying to place a car in a somewhat impossible location. When this happens, their laughter encourages me to start giggling. And, everyone who knows me understands that when I start laughing, I can’t stop. I have somewhat of a laughing problem which probably shouldn’t be classified as a problem. 

But, nevertheless, when the laughter begins, parking success is not happening. No way, Jose. It’s time to pack it in when I begin to unravel like that. It gets really crazy at times when I can’t get myself out of a parking spot that I actually couldn’t get myself into in the first place. Does that even make sense? At times like this, I humbly

acknowledge that I am but a mere mortal incapable of scoring a perfect “10” every time I come up to bat. I just sail away in my car totally resigning myself to the fact that I will have to park ( seemingly ) miles and miles away from my destination. I remind myself that I love to walk even when I’m carrying packages and there are icy patches on the sidewalks. I just love it. Hehe!

In a way, I relate parallel parking to life. Sometimes, I’m on top of my game. I know what direction I want to follow. I have a good, workable plan and I just go for it. Nothing seems to get in the way. I am unstoppable at times like this. I put my heart and brain into the plan and just go where it takes me. Wonderful things happen along the way. I reach my destination and rejoice when I get there. I have confidence in my abilities and life, itself. I feel on top of the world. Like a woman who is fulfilling her purpose on earth. I love, love, love times like this. They make me feel alive and striving. I am on my way to adventure, enjoyment and prosperity. I am on course and happiness reigns!

Other times, I get a little lost. Sidetracked. Off course, to say the least. I don’t know where I’m going. I’m disoriented and disorganized. Not centered. I really don’t care for those times. They are not nearly as fun as the smooth sailing times when I’m at my best. But, just like I do when I’m having a rough go of it parallel parking, I laugh it off and remember that I’m a work in progress. I usually go for a walk at that point and shake it all off. That leaves an opening for a fresh start the next day. And, as we all know, things are generally brighter in the morning. 

I believe that with God all things are possible. If you try hard to accomplish something and you can’t seem to get it together, it’s best to stop, regroup and begin again at a later time. No need to give up totally. But, maybe a new perspective is the answer. Staying cool, calm and collected is a plus. I’ve learned that through maturity.  Remembering that laughter is one of the best routes to happiness and joy is key. Even when the laughter is directed at me!

God Is Already There

I keep reading posts on Facebook that say words to the effect that we need to put God and prayer back in our schools and businesses, etc. Even Marianne Williamson, one of my favorite spiritual teachers, proposes that Our Lord's Prayer should be said in schools.

When I read this I want to politely remind people that God is already there. God ( Love) is all around us. God never leaves us. Prayer is simply communication with God. We can talk to God and listen for his response anytime during the day or night. We don't need someone else's organized prayer to do so. 

You cannot/should not legislate/force God and prayer on anyone. Our relationship with God ( Love ) is a personal one. If it's forced, then it's not authentic. Nothing good would come of that.

Rather, Love, good old-fashioned Love, should be encouraged everywhere we go. Not just in schools. In businesses and organizations and communities, in the home, etc. Basically, wherever humans travel. Many of us here in this country have pulled away from ( God) because we have pulled away from Love. 

The best way to get back to being in a state of love is to think of love as an action verb. We need to be nice to people and lend them a helping hand whenever needed. We need to be considerate of others and share everything we have. We need to remember that we are all one and when one of us is hurting everyone is hurting. This whole country is hurting right now because fear has taken over. Many have put Love on the back burner.

Once again, I think of Mahatma Gandhi's words," Be the change you wish to see in the world ". We all want our nation and our world to be a nonviolent, nonconfrontational, loving place to live. Each and everyone of us can work toward this goal by remembering that Love in action every day in every situation is the way. Just be kind. To everyone even if they are not kind to us.

Peace and love to all of you!

Fancy Meeting You Here!

Well, Fancy Meeting You Here! 

I just had the funniest experience. I’m still laughing about it. Today is Saturday of Fourth Of July Weekend. I am fortunate enough to be at the Jersey shore. All of the barrier islands around these parts are packed to the maximum with people just like me whose primary goal is to do whatever it takes to get to the beach because that’s where it’s at in New Jersey on the 4th!

It’s a magnificent day. Perfect temperature. Not hot. Not cold. Light breeze. Pretty blue sky with puffy white clouds here and there. The sun is shining in all of its glory. All one has to do to have a spectacular day today is practice patience. Yes, patience. Because everywhere you travel there are lines of people and cars. Parking can be quite a challenge. One gets the exaggerated feeling that everyone from our neighboring state of Pennsylvania is here with us on the islands. We welcome them all. Of course. But, it is a bit overwhelming to say the least.

So, there I was a short while ago, making my way from the borough of Longport on Absecon Island to Ocean City which is the barrier island to the south. I was driving over the bridge which leads into the northern section of Ocean City commonly referred to as The Gardens. The bridge traffic was bumper to bumper with a slow but steady pace. As I ascended to the crest of the bridge, I thought to myself how very lucky I am to be at a standstill at the highest part of the bridge. My view was breathtaking with the beautiful bay on either side and pleasure boats all around. You couldn’t be anything but happy at a moment like that.

This bridge allows space next to the guard rails for  pedestrians to walk, run or ride bikes. So nice. Directly across from my car, I happened to notice a couple holding hands as they walked. I have always loved seeing people joining hands with each other. It makes me happy. Young couples, older couples, friends and parents with their children. I just love it because it gives me a sense of peace and connectedness. I believe that we are all one and people holding hands with their love ones reinforces this idea.

Suddenly, this couple and I caught each other’s attention. I told them how nice they look together holding each other’s hands. They smiled and thanked me. Then, in an instant, the woman said, “Shelagh, is that you?” “ Yes! Yes, it’s me.”, I immediately responded having absolutely no idea to whom I was speaking. “It’s us. It’s Patty and Ralph. You didn’t recognize us when you complimented us, did you?”  We all laughed as I confessed that I had no idea who they were. In my defense, they both had hats and sunglasses on. And, I hadn’t seen either one of them in what seems like a hundred years but actually was about eighteen. 

Our daughters went to grade school together and their graduation may have been our last encounter because our girls went separate ways after that. I have fond memories of this couple. They are fun and easy going. The three of us were thrilled at our experience on the bridge but as you can imagine, it ended as quickly as it started because the traffic began to move forward. We yelled our best wishes into the wind and just like that we parted ways. Laughing at the seeming randomness of our meeting. 

But, nothing is really random, is it? I believe that everything happens the way it’s supposed to happen when it’s supposed to happen. We were supposed to come together in that instant. It was a gift from the Heavens. It was yet another reminder that God is always with us and rejoices in our happiness. That was a sweet get together of old friends with joy being the purpose. Even though it was brief, I’m still feeling the positive effects it offered. 

Love is all around us. If we are open and ready, we will experience it often. Peace and Love!

 She Said YES !!!                

The moment is here. One of my darling daughters, Maureen, became engaged this morning to a wonderful man from a lovely family. What more could a mother ask for? It’s almost too good to be true. But, fortunately, it’s real. Thank you, dear God. Thank you very much. 

My family and I adore the boyfriend, Tom. Oops! I mean the fiancee. That’s a beautiful word I’ll have to get used to saying. This sweet young couple is now engaged to be married. They are betrothed. This is a very big moment in time for Maureen and Tom, as well as, the rest of us. Their intentions are set. All sorts of plans will be made left and right. We are at the very beginning of what promises to be a whirlwind of activity. Wedding preparations always seem to take on a life of their own from what I’ve observed. 

But, there’s no going back now. Not that we’d ever want to. We’re going in a direction we’ve never been before. As soon as the, oh, so nice,Tom, proposed to Maureen by the bay at the Ocean City Yacht Club, and she said the word he hoped she’d say, promises were made and jubilation  reigned. My intuition tells me that Tom’s family is as overjoyed as mine at the prospect of the two of them living happily ever after. Their relationship has always shown signs of being a match made in Heaven.

Maureen and Tom were friends for several years before they started dating. They have many friends in common which will always be a plus in their lives. When they were still in that friend stage, I often joked with Maureen that I thought that her red head friend, Tom, seemed interested in being more than just friends. We would both laugh and leave it up to the universe to figure it all out. As fate would have it, sparks flew one summer evening at a boat parade in Ocean City called “Night in Venice”. Something was in the air that could no longer be denied. Love! They both acknowledged that very night that they were smitten with each other and the rest is history, as they say.

They are so much fun to be around. They both have a great sense of humor and a natural ability to keep things lively. They really seem right for each other. Dedicated to their relationship, their families and their friends. Maureen and Tom spent five months together in Costa Rica last year. Many caring people voiced concern at their plan to be in a third world country for an extended amount of time. But, I knew that they had to go on that adventure. It had been calling to them for a long time. I secretly thought of that trip as the ultimate test of the strength of their relationship. 

Maureen and Tom only knew two people when they landed at the San Jose Airport. A married couple around their age who were originally from the United States but had taken up residence in Costa Rica a few years prior. The two couples socialized together as often as possible. But, due to work schedules, etc., that time was somewhat limited. So, Maureen and Tom really had to depend on each other for everything. I had hoped that the prospect of that would solidify their relationship and bond them for life and I was right. It did. They invited me to travel to their Central American town of Santa Teresa on the Nicoya Peninsula. When I arrived, I, at once, noticed their closeness. I was thrilled to find that they had passed the test of time with flying colors. Yay!

Today is a day I will never forget. I am overcome with   gratitude. I see a bright future for these two lovebirds. They both have good heads on their shoulders. We are all on cloud nine with no plans to come down. It’s night time right now and I am alone with God. I am tearing up. With joy, naturally. I am deeply appreciative. Thankful beyond words for Divine Providence. Peace and Love. Or, as they say in Costa Rica, “Pura Vida”!

Flashback To Jack Bradley: A Wonderful Father

Jack Bradley entertaining a wedding crowd with his rendition of On the Way to Cape May.

“On The Way To Cape May” is a classic seashore song cherished by many in the beach towns of South Jersey. Our Dad, Jack, entertained his eight children with this cheerful tune on a regular basis as we were growing up. We all loved it. We knew every word and sang along with pleasure. It’s a love song of sorts. 

I’m a little vague as to whether, or not, Jack actually claimed it as his own creation. But, we pretty much believed he wrote it simply because we never heard anyone else sing it when we were kids.  My siblings and I really enjoyed thinking that our own Dad could come up with “ a little ditty” about our South Jersey seashore towns. It’s a cute, fun song that’s easy to sing along to. Great party tune.

If you ever had the pleasure of meeting Jack Bradley, you’d know that he loved an audience. Hand him a microphone up on a stage and he was in Heaven. A natural at entertaining a crowd. Sometimes, I can’t believe I’m related to him because the spotlight has never been my thing. I’ve run from it all my life. And, as far as singing goes, let’s just say that I may be the only one who is thrilled when I’m belting out a tune which is something I love to do.

My family lives in Margate City on Absecon Island which is a barrier island on the coast of New Jersey about 30 miles, or so, North of Cape May, N. J. Margate is a sweet little beach community that shares the island with Atlantic City, Ventnor City and the borough of Longport. There are several other barrier islands as you travel south “along the Jersey shore” with towns as charming as Margate. Ocean City, Sea Isle, Avalon and Stone Harbor to name a few. 

Each of these small communities has much to offer in the way of beautiful beaches, boardwalks, gorgeous homes and wonderful restaurants. They are boating destinations with all sorts of water craft available. Each season at the Jersey shore presents a list of enjoyable activities that have delighted families and friends for ages. It’s easy to relax and leave your troubles behind when you spend time in any one of these towns. Bike riding, surfing and simply soaking up the sun are all part of the fun the South Jersey coast has to offer.

My family has been enthralled with the Jersey shore forever. Our relatives and friends love to visit us in this darling little haven as often as possible. Jack has always referred to the seashore as, “ the land of milk and honey”. A feeling of peace and contentment envelops you as you cross the bridges onto the islands. Everything seems right with the world as you leave the mainland behind. You just want to say, “ahhh!” as you begin to breathe in the salt sea air.

No wonder someone was able to write a catchy tune about  these island towns. Everywhere I travel at the shore, especially in the summertime, people sing this song. It’s a favorite with beachgoers from Atlantic City to Cape May- the southern most point in New Jersey. Happy Hours are the perfect venue for, “On The Way To Cape May”. Everyone joins in. You can’t help it. This tune generates so much happiness. 

I can vividly picture my Dad singing this endearing song at many a wedding. Invariably, the bride or groom would ask Jack to entertain the crowd with his favorite song. An impromptu gesture that thrilled one and all. He loved it. He would usually add one or two more songs to his repertoire. “By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea…” was a crowd pleaser, too. But, Jack’s rendition of, “On The Way To Cape May” always stole the show. To the delight of everyone, he would add a few dance moves just to liven things up a bit. So much fun!

At our Dad’s funeral a few years ago, my brother, John, had the brilliant idea to have everyone sing this special tune at his gravesite. He had copies made of the words and passed them out to all in attendance. As we were paying our final respects to a man we loved so well, the crowd, at John’s direction, began to sing, “Oh, I sang this little ditty as I left from Ocean City to one who was so lovely to adore. Well, I sang this little ditty as we left from Ocean City down along the Jersey shore…” Not a dry eye in the group. Happy tears in tribute to a man loved by so many and a song that sums everything up about the beach towns he loved deeply. 

Even though Jackson, as we referred to him often, went to his Heavenly Reward over three years ago, he is still greatly missed. And, not just by his extended family. Everywhere that my siblings and I travel on Absecon Island, people come up to us and tell great stories about him. The love they feel for him is at once evident. He had a unique way of making people feel special, connected, loved. His personality was bigger than life. The eight of us are thrilled when someone regales us with a Jack Bradley tale. It helps keep his memory alive within us. No greater gift could these dear old friends give us. Love you, Dad!