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Mourning the Living

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Mourning the Living

Grief isn’t just for the recently deceased. Sometimes it’s for those we must purposely leave behind. We’ve all experienced it at some point….a bad break up, a friendship that can’t weather a bad storm, or a relative that is doing more harm than good. Grief paints with a broad brush.

Anger is my emotion of choice when dealing with the hard stuff. Some would call it a crutch, a better description is a shield. It protects me from the deeper, darker emotions that come from grieving the still living. My shield is past it’s expiration and the wear and tear is breaking it down, leaving me with profound sorrow.

Perhaps you have been there. Maybe you’ve experienced a relationship so broken or toxic that it is beyond repair. That’s the spot I’m in right now. The fact that it involves a parent, makes it especially harsh. So many missed opportunities for myself and my children, displaced by someone who is either incapable or unwilling to care. It’s sad and I need to allow myself a moment to acknowledge that.

Grieving the living is tricky business because it is ultimately a choice. It may be the most healthy, sane choice you can make for yourself. Self preservation doesn’t come cheap. I have spent years trying to fight the undertow of my mother’s mental illness. The constant tug to take me under while I continue to tread water is causing my head to bob up and down. It’s at my chin now and I refuse to go under any further. That leaves me with one option, to pluck myself out of the water and walk away.

Sleepy Town No More

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Sleepy Town No More

They’re searching for bodies on a farm 3 miles from my house. This doesn’t happen in Solebury. Four young men are missing, ages 19 to 22. One has been gone for a week and the other 3 are missing for several days now. It’s awful and it’s all anyone can talk about. A community obsessed with the latest coverage. We collectively drive by the search site, taken back by the presence of local and national news vans that now dot the shoulders of a usually passive Route 202. We follow the DA’s updates and press conference with rapt attention. Anxiously awaiting something, anything that will tell us that it was all a big mistake, the boys are fine, you can go back to your regularly scheduled summer activities. That hasn’t happened and it won’t. God only knows what will get unearthed on that farm.

To say this is unusual here is an understatement. This part of Bucks County is pretty homogeneous – mostly liberal, white collar and well educated. I have often joked about the lack of diversity in this area we have white and gay white with few exceptions. We have crime here – burglaries, some drugs, DUIs and the occasional insurance fraud. Murder is not something that happens on the regular here. A good chunk of the local population has moved here from New Jersey or New York mostly for the favorable taxes and a good school district. We aren’t unaware of how the rest of the world is we just found ourselves in a bubble believing that it’s a great place to raise kids. We are less sure of our choices now.

Fast-forward a few days and the facts are unraveling in the most horrible way. A 12.5-foot deep grave was discovered with the help of cadaver dogs on loan from the FBI. The remains of three of the missing men were located in a tank in the deep grave. Dean Finocchiaro (19) was the first to be identified. It took longer to identify the remains of the other two occupants – Tom Meo (21) and Mark Sturgis (22).

The fourth victim to be found and identified was the first to go missing. Jimi Patrick (19) was found in a separate location on another part of the 80-acre farm. The location of Mr. Patrick was given in exchange for taking the death penalty off the table for Cosmo DiNardo. According to reports, the DA, Matt Weintraub, conferred with the families of the then missing men before going forward with the arrangement. Some people are outraged by this deal and I understand their anger. It is just so rare to see the death penalty actually utilized. I think Mr. Weintraub made the best decision under the worst of circumstances.

There’s also a swarm of rumors buzzing about on social media. The one with the most intrique is that these missing men were witnesses to a beating in May near the Temple campus in Philly. Billy Riddle, the person charged with the assault that nearly killed a young man for seemingly no reason except that he had the misfortune of crossing paths, is rumored to have set up a hit on these young men.

Rumor has it that Cosmo DiNardo owed Billy Riddle some money over drug deals and getting rid of the beating witnesses would clear his debt. I have no idea if there is even a whiff of truth to this. I suspect at this point if it were true we would be hearing about it. As it stands now, that hasn’t come up in the handful of press conferences that have taken place.

Other rumors are that the DiNardo family is in the mob. The name ends in a vowel, proximity to Philly, his parents own a construction company and they have vast acreage with backhoes and other equipment. People draw their own conclusions and imaginations are ripe with possibilities real or not. I’ve also heard people speculate that Cosmo is a serial killer. I guess time will tell. He without a doubt is responsible for the deaths of 4 young men, who knows if there are others.

The actual story that is being reported is less Hollywood and acutely more senseless. Apparently, three separate drug deals were made and the men were shot on the property in three separate incidents. Mr. Patrick was the first to be killed. He was meeting with DiNardo to purchase pot and was shot and buried by DiNardo. In this case DiNardo acted alone seemingly because the deal changed to something less favorable.

Two days later the same fate was met by Mr. Finocchiaro in a barn on the property. This time his cousin, Sean Kratz, accompanied DiNardo. Kratz and DiNardo disagree on who fired the first shot at Finocciaro but DiNardo admits to firing a second shot when the victim was on the ground.

Later that same day, Mr. Meo and Mr. Sturgis met the same fate as the other two. They were lured to the property for a drug transaction and were quickly shot when they exited DiNardo’s truck. It’s been reported that Mr. Sturgis was running away when he was shot having just witnessed his best friend Mr. Meo get shot. It’s also been noted that Mr. Meo was run over by the back hoe to make sure he was dead as the killers ran out of ammunition.

The bodies of the three victims killed on July 7th were transferred to a tank and DiNardo and Kratz attempted to burn them. The next day the tank was placed in a 12.5 deep grave, which was dug by a backhoe that resided on the property. Sometime that weekend a ping from Mr. Finocciaro’s cell phone set the investigation in motion. The discovery of Mr. Meo’s car on another local property also owned by the DiNardo family gave investigators enough reason to search the farm diligently.

Cosmo DiNardo and his cousin Sean Kratz both face multiple counts in relation to the four murders including robbery, abuse of a corpse and conspiracy. They are both being held without bail and a preliminary hearing is scheduled for July 31st. As a community we are relieved that they are locked up.

There is a cloud of sadness, anger and devastation hanging over this usually bucolic location. We are a community of mourners, still collecting facts and speculating over the rumors. Wondering how it all went down in our back yard unbeknownst to us. Our sleepy little town has been awakened in the most jarring and gruesome way.

 

 

The Raging Spinning Globe

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The Raging Spinning Globe

People are still freaking out over the election and Christmas is around the corner. The energy in the air is a mix of enraged mob and desperately trying to be cheerful. I have a theory about all this anger.

Anger has been my emotion of choice since I was a kid although I wasn’t aware of this preference before the age of 15. You see for me anger is a replacement for fear and despair. When your choices are anger, fear and despair, then anger is the best of the bunch. Anger gives you energy and can dismantle the sobbing tears that lead to headaches and snot face. Anger gives you wings and a bullhorn when the other options leave you in the fetal position or crying into your pillow in the deepest corner of your darkest closet. Of course anger is appealing, we can feel self righteous and get loud. It’s not our fault. Anger almost always comes with a big middle finger pointing at someone else, perhaps a situation beyond our control. Maybe it’s a president elect, the PTA, your boss, your spouse, the @sshole in car line that won’t move up 3 feet like a rational human being – the list is endless.

I’m not saying there aren’t valid reasons for being angry. Of course there are millions of reasons to be pissed off but is that the only emotion? I don’t think so. Even the schmuck that cuts you off on the way to work may deserve more than a flash of anger perhaps there was some fear there as well? How about forgiveness or the benefit of the doubt? Maybe that person just flaked out because they have a lot going on – sick kid, pending divorce, dickish boss?  The point is you can make up an excuse for them and chose a different reaction something other than crude hand gestures and an angry horn.

Recently a School Board member in my town posted a sarcastic Facebook Post on his personal page. In case you haven’t figured this out yet – there is no such thing as a “personal” Facebook Page – categorize that with unicorns and the Tooth Fairy, does not exist. Anyhow, the post was calling out the people wearing safety pins….basically the post ripped on that kind of activism the term “slactivist jack ass” was used. People here are losing their shit over that post. I suspect many of them wear safety pins as a sign of solidarity to perceived minorities or people that may be in danger of racism, sexism and discrimination of some sort. This guy had a different opinion about the usefulness of the safety pin and people are pissed.

It’s interesting to me how the peace loving, safety pin wearing sensitive types are taking their rage out on this individual (and his family). The last school board meeting had the markings of a Salem Witch Trial. The man in question opened the meeting with an apology for the post and clearly stated what he did and did not mean. That was not enough. People were chanting for him to resign, at least one attendee had a sign with “resign”on it, some wanted him disbarred, one lady was tossed from the meeting for being disruptive. It made the local news, sigh.  Many in the crowd wanted this man to suffer on some level. Apparently enduring the public outrage and humiliation were not enough to satiate the majority.

So here we are at the point where a person can not make a stupid, snarky comment without having the wrath of an angry mob on him. It’s sad to me. I don’t know this individual personally but he has volunteered hundreds if not thousands of hours to our community. His voting record on the school board matches what most parents want for our district and here we are with angry chants, no tolerance and no forgiveness.

Here is  another problem…. Many of the people that are angry with this man that they don’t personally know….. well they don’t actually know how the School Board works. Some commented they resented paying his salary (um, he’s a volunteer so no salary). Others blasted the Superintendent for not forcing a resignation. Pssst…..lean in a little….the SI reports to the School Board, not the other way around…..so the SI can not actually make a School Board Director resign. Facts shmacts burn him at the stake!

For the love of GAWD people tuck in your ignorance before you go off on a rant. Check the facts, know the circumstances, hesitate before posting that comment and forming a lynch mob. Can we look at the whole person and not just the 37 words that pissed you off? It just seems that people want or need to be angry at someone or something so they gravitate towards what’s close. Maybe they pick the battles they think they can win? Something that feels personal? I don’t know what the answer is, maybe awareness is a start? Just seems like we are all on one raging spinning globe of hate right now.

I want to take a break from anger. Fighting anger with anger is like pinning two poisons against each other….no one wins and we all feel a little sick after. I want to fight it with cheer and kindness. Random acts of good that surprise even the crumpiest among us. Sprinkle that shit like pixie dust all around so people are lost in a glittery fog of good intentions. It feels good, better than anger, fear or despair, I promise.

My Mother Made Me…

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My Mother Made Me…

Why do we demonize mothers? OK you may be thinking I have gotten off at the wrong bus stop, she’s come off the rails, PMS…? All valid things to ponder but stay with me a bit…it’s a thought that has occurred to me on more than one occasion, maybe you have noticed it too?

We expect so much from mothers. Thank you Captain Obvious for stating that…..I know (insert eye roll) but think about it in your own life. OK, I’ll start since I’m the first one reading this…and perhaps the only one.

I had a fairly crappy childhood with divorced parents. As kids we lived with our mother (for the most part) and our father paid child support (except when he didn’t,  which was often). He pretty much abandoned us except for the bi-annual court ordered payments when he would be forced to write a check. My mother kept a roof over our heads (with some lapses) until my twin brother and I turned 15 and the shit storm went nuclear. Fast forward 30+ years later and which parent aggravates me the most…..mom.

I see myself in her and her in me. Usually the parts I don’t like, have her fingerprints all over them. The negativity, the feeling of being easily overwhelmed, the victim mentality, the flakiness. Sometimes I see these flaws in discreet slivers….sometimes they are wrapped in neon signs holding a bullhorn announcing themselves to the world at high volume. I don’t ever think of my father when a character defect pops up and I am just itching to identify the source so I can destroy it so it never comes back again. PS – they always come back again, like garden weeds and stray cats that you accidentally fed on purpose.

So why do I do this? Why blame my mother when my father was not even around. Maybe that’s it….perhaps his absence gives him a free pass? Well damn that seems woefully unfair. But I have to be honest at this age, I’m too tired to build a relationship with the guy just so I can hate him. Meh, I don’t have the energy and he’s kind of a jerk.

Or is that society has brain washed me and you and all the woodland creatures into thinking that moms must be perfect and if they are not they must be hated? What the hell – why would anyone want that job asked the mom of two?

So here’s my suggestion…let’s be nicer to our moms. Let’s try to remember that they are mere mortals that make mistakes. Some mistakes may have been bigger and more catastrophic but would you let your dad off the hook for a similar issue? Would you forgive a friend if they stumbled along a similar broken path sometimes grabbing at the wrong branch for balance? And let’s be real honest, I don’t want my kids to hate me so maybe I’m just hoping for some good karma. Good luck to all the moms out there.

 

 

My Other Mother

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My Other Mother

I recently had an experience where I caught a glimpse of my mother from an outsider’s perspective. It happens sometimes and it reminds me that my mother is a multi-dimensional person. Just like the rest of us…she isn’t all bad or all good, she’s a complicated mix. I have written quite a bit about the bad stuff – the drunk, raging, dysfunctional mother and now I want to share another side.

A few days ago, I had lunch with my “other mother” at a student dinning hall at the University of Pennsylvania. When she 40 she decided that she wanted to go to college and prove to everyone that she wasn’t stupid. She started local at a community college where she aced her way through two years and graduated with induction into Phi Theta Kappa.

Her grades and her personal narrative were so compelling that she got a scholarship to the University of Pennsylvania. Her initial thought was that she would complete her B.A. with a law degree as the ultimate goal and somewhere she switched to history and psychology. She did graduate from University of Pennsylvania and attended one year of graduate school at Bryn Mawr College.

We found ourselves in Philadelphia for one of her doctor appointments. I insisted on driving her because she is not a great driver and I thought public transportation would overwhelm her. So we were walking from the medical facility toward campus and she mentioned that she wished she could give “them” more money. I turned toward her and said “what” rather forcibly……WTF was strongly implied. In my mind the coffers of the ivies is always so damn full and my mother is broke. She lives in a house I bought but she still has utility bills. She is on Medicaid and has no discretionary income, zero. Then she went on to say how she learned so much about women and other cultures around the world during her education. How her time there was a bit Dickens….”It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”. Clearly she just wanted to pay it forward to another woman that she will never meet and my tone softened.

I admit it, I am a hard ass around my mother. Impatient, suspicious, not trusting on any level, my armor is always up around her and I can be an obstinate jerk. I know this and I willed myself to be patient and oblige her wish for lunch on campus despite the growing list of sh*t I had to do that day. After all, I don’t know if she will get another chance to stroll down this particular neighborhood of memory lane and I didn’t want to begrudge her that request.

I could feel the pride of her accomplishment that hour. She went on about how this changed and that was the same. She wanted to eat in the hall of flags and peeked in on an event taking place in that room. That lunch she was reflecting on happy times and people that sadly have passed that helped her with that part of her journey.

During lunch I noticed that she was wearing her university ring. I got that ring for her as a graduation gift. I was in my early twenties, going to college and working two jobs to support myself. The money I used to pay for that ring was based on serious sweat equity and sacrifice. She told me that day it was the nicest gift anyone had every given her. I guess we both had something to be proud of that day.

I Miss the You I Never Knew

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I Miss the You I Never Knew

I’m just leaving it here because I have been carrying it all day and it is so damn heavy.

I knew you from your posts

but now you’re just a ghost

It doesn’t feel right to mourn you

but I do

I miss the you I never knew

 

This was written today on the second anniversary of my half brother’s death. He was 25 and he committed suicide. The family dynamics are beyond dysfunctional….I wrote about it in….https://wasthatmyoutloudvoice.com/2015/08/16/its-complicated/

An interesting side note…I came downstairs at 5am because my heart was grieving and my mind was racing from a nightmare. When I got downstairs I noticed one of the electric candles was on in the living room on top of the mantle. I did not turn it on, neither did my husband or my kids. The switch is on the under side of the candle and requires intent to put it on….and there it was flickering away. Shine on little brother.

 

Gasping for Air

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Gasping for Air

What does a writer do when they feel too vulnerable to write? It’s OK I’ll just wait over here until the universe can send me an answer….still waiting……….waiting some more. Well the universe doesn’t seem to be getting back to me so I guess I’ll have to take the steering wheel, again.

I feel like the world has gone fahking mad. How did we get here? The terrorists attacks, the society of rage that seems to be festering all around us……Donald Trump. It feels like one big WTF moment that has gone viral well beyond it’s 15 minutes of fame. So there’s that.

On a personal level I have been watching my kids struggle with tween/teen issues. I feel like my heart resides outside my body in two distinct and always moving places…..and it can be assaulted at any time, unprovoked. I guess that’s how it is when you have kids, forever vulnerable. I don’t think this is a phase we will transition through….sure the teen years will pass, but I will always be vulnerable to their pain, assuming I’m aware of it.

My kids tell me a lot, maybe too much. I’d rather know what’s going on, at least for now. I reserve the right to change my mind on that in the future. My husband thinks I coddle. I disagree. I think I have created a mostly safe place for our children to come to when they need to talk. I say mostly safe because sometimes I suck at this parenting thing. Catch me at 11pm on any given night and I am not at my best and neither are they. Yet that seems to be the time when they want to get close and tell me their fears, their sadness, their pain and of course their joys and dreams as well. It’s a mixed bag but lately the mix is leaning heavy on fears and sadness and it’s weighing us all down.

Raising humans is hard. I mean think about it you are shaping a person into their pre-adult self….enormous fahking responsibility. And I know this…..I’ve been doing the parent thing for over 13 years now…it’s just sometimes that weight just smacks you in the face when you were taking a moment to look the other way. Blind sided, unprepared caught unaware, gasping for air. That’s how it feels right now.

I Don’t Collect Shiny Things

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I Don’t Collect Shiny Things

I opt out of some of social norms. I don’t wear jewelry. I mean nothing, no watch, rings, necklaces, hell my ears aren’t even pierced.  I didn’t want or get a huge diamond when we decided to get married. We have titanium wedding bands which we wore once at a family party after we eloped. It was a nod to my mother in law who was a stickler for tradition. It was hard enough for her to accept that we chose to get married on a beach in Mexico without any family or friends present. So we wore wedding bands for about 4 hours. I still consider eloping to be one of my top 3 best decisions.

My mother in law was old school Italian and I would have been steam rolled in the planning process. We weren’t into it and after being together for about 6 years we got pregnant. It wasn’t entirely accidental. I told my love that I was going off the pill after nearly two decades of being on it and within a year, boom. I don’t call it a shot gun wedding because I didn’t have a strong male figure in my life that would have pressured us into marriage. I was pretty chill about myself. I told him we didn’t need to get married, he saw things differently coming from a traditional Italian Catholic family. In retrospect, I’m glad we got married. There are times when things get sticky and that legal status makes you hesitate before you set that bridge on fire with a defiant one finger salute. I can’t imagine being with anyone else.

So here we are twenty years, two kids and a large dog deep into it. We have the beautiful house and all the trappings of suburban bliss. I say that without snark, we are truly blessed. I had a birthday recently and I chuckle to myself when people ask what I got. Repeat this process for Christmas, Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day…..all the days when Hallmark and mass marketing tell you it is urgent to give, give, give! The constant stream of ads for jewelry that tell us if he doesn’t spend two months salary on an engagement ring perhaps you should reconsider. And what Mother’s Day would be complete without a charm from Pandora…..oh pahleeze, just go away. Here’s the thing, I don’t collect shiny things. Sometimes I get a card or flowers, sometimes I don’t. If I feel like I need a card or flowers I’ll say “hon, I’d like a card and flowers” and they will appear. I learned a long time ago that people aren’t mind readers so if you want something specific you should get it yourself or leave detailed instructions. Oh and expectation is the root of all evil.

So when someone asks me what I got, here are my thoughts…..I got a man who is a great father. A true family man who does the right thing without being asked. Three days ago he was at my mother’s house taking a canopy off a retractable awning. He spent hours researching where to get the best replacement and then bought one after he had me pick the pattern. Better than a bracelet, way better.

 

For the Hubs

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For the Hubs

I adore my husband. He will likely never see this post so I’m doing this just for the pure joy of it, no brownie points here. We met in April of 1996 at an alternative rock bar in Philly named FUBAR. It was lust at first sight. He wore a Marvin the Martian watch and he had swagger, so much swagger. He has a smile that can melt icebergs but he was far too handsome and well traveled for me to get my hopes up so I played it cool. Indifference is your friend single ladies, just don’t take it too far. So this is my modern day version of a mixed tape.

This song played in heavy rotation on the way home that night. I declined his offer to go back to the house he rented with his friends.  Instead, I made the long trek back to Belmar, New Jersey  where I had a one bedroom apartment on Ocean Avenue. By the way, I highly recommend living in a resort town in your mid twenties.

Counting Blue Cars –

 

We took things slow and he had the nerve to move to Italy for a job within a few months of meeting each other. He did invite me to visit him there, which I did. I brought a friend though because that is what a girl does when she is trying to stop herself from falling in love with a man who seems elusive. Resistance was futile, I fell hard. But I kept that shit tucked in….Fiona Apple understood what I was going through….

 

That visit left me with a constant craving so yes, this too –

 

And of course I will never forget moshing to this in some club in Turino, Italy –

 

As I am going down memory lane I realize I can not possibly list 20 years of songs in one post. These were some of the early day songs and my feelings for the man have not dimmed. Still so crazy in love (oops another song)

 

Hmm……noticing that this is a very eclectic mix and yes still very much in love. Lucky girl.

Sometimes I Suck at Parenting……

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Sometimes I Suck at Parenting……

Deep breathe…..sometimes I suck at parenting. It’s a fact. I’m human, flawed, impatient and just plain don’t have my shit together every minute of the day. I would love to blame my own parents for this because 1) they sucked as parents (WAY more than me) and 2) introspection is hard.

My latest bout of mediocrity (OK failure) happened last night. It happened late at night when patience reservoirs were low or perhaps empty. My daughter wanted a special breakfast out this weekend just the two of us. Son got wind of this and wanted in. At 11:17pm I wasn’t able to negotiate this emotional minefield without casualties. I tried to postpone the decision knowing that some decisions are best made when well rested. Daughter couldn’t do that pushed and pushed for an answer. So I asked her….”what would you have me do – hurt your feelings by not going or hurt his feelings by excluding him”. I described it as the lose-lose situation that it was and determined that no one would go out to breakfast. This resulted in many tears on her part….impatience on my part and eventually a heart felt conversation. It was emotionally exhausting and I felt like a bad mom. I did promise to spend one on one time with my daughter but at a different venue. That seemed like the best compromise. You know compromise – no one is really happy but it seems somewhat fair, ugh.

My girl is going through a phase right now where she wants to spend a lot of one on one time with me. Of course that shifts immediately if a better offer comes along  and I am fine with getting placed on hold so she can spend time with friends. My issue is I have two children and I need to be mindful of how so much time spent with one child impacts the other. So I just keep talking to them individually and encourage open communication (preferable before 10pm). It’s a juggling act and did I mention I’m not good at juggling. Multitasking emotional situations, it’s difficult.

I am aware that these children that I adore with my entire being will be gone within the next decade. Off to their own lives to parts yet to be determined. I will not have these late night soul searching conversations. They won’t always show me their raw emotions….these hiccuped conversations are a gift. I probably won’t always be able to conjure up an image when they mention the name of a friend, classmate or colleague. They won’t always have room for me in their lives and that is the nature of the parenting beast. It makes me equal parts sad and grateful. Somebody please slow this train.