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Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Come Together
The value of loved ones was reinforced in my heart through Fred's passing. I try not to think about the mean client and idiot motorist who cut me off: They are not my priorities. The good love of family and friends is what life is about. Everything else is fleeting.
And, as I explained to my son the other day, that's what the holidays are about. Christmas is not about getting but about being with loved ones and watching their eyes as they receive something they cherish, something you gave them. Something you thought about.
Fred did not ask for much the past few years, and we did not exchange gifts most of our lives. The last Christmas gift I presented him with was homemade cookies. I know he cherished them.
I saw him last in January 2009, when so much was different in my life. I was at a different house, different job. I videotaped him conversing with my son. I am so thrilled to have that. That was Fred's gift to me, as he did not like to be photographed.
As I said in the eulogy, we will always remember burning chocolate candies at Christmas or perhaps Easter. We created that odd ritual/tradition as a team.
Fred's favorite holiday movie was It’s a Wonderful Life. Though for the past 16 or so years it might have seemed that Fred’s life was not so wonderful, I have to think that the time gave him pause. He returned to religion and poured his energies into writing his book.
I probably became a writer because I wanted to be like him. To me, my life has been more wonderful because of his presence. I know everyone whose lives he touched feels the same.
And, as I explained to my son the other day, that's what the holidays are about. Christmas is not about getting but about being with loved ones and watching their eyes as they receive something they cherish, something you gave them. Something you thought about.
Fred did not ask for much the past few years, and we did not exchange gifts most of our lives. The last Christmas gift I presented him with was homemade cookies. I know he cherished them.
I saw him last in January 2009, when so much was different in my life. I was at a different house, different job. I videotaped him conversing with my son. I am so thrilled to have that. That was Fred's gift to me, as he did not like to be photographed.
As I said in the eulogy, we will always remember burning chocolate candies at Christmas or perhaps Easter. We created that odd ritual/tradition as a team.
Fred's favorite holiday movie was It’s a Wonderful Life. Though for the past 16 or so years it might have seemed that Fred’s life was not so wonderful, I have to think that the time gave him pause. He returned to religion and poured his energies into writing his book.
I probably became a writer because I wanted to be like him. To me, my life has been more wonderful because of his presence. I know everyone whose lives he touched feels the same.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Dear Fred
This next series of blogs will be about and for my dear brother, Fred, who passed away suddenly on July 9, 2010. We will always love, miss and remember him, our dear brother, friend, uncle and teacher. The first installment is a copy of the eulogy I wrote for him.
Caro Fredi
He began his life as Ferdinando Lorenzo DeNicola, in Italy.
My last long conversation with my brother was on his birthday, and it was about intelligence. He was one of the very few I know who value it and can be considered intelligent. We both thought that was our best conversation ever.
My earliest memory of him is watching Saturday morning cartoons. I remember when the Flintstones started, and he very excitedly announced its arrival. My other early memory is sports. I rooted for the Mets just to annoy him; he liked the Yankees. I told him I knew they were in different “leagoos” (leagues). He would steal all my Spauldings to play baseball.
I watch my son Logan at boxing lessons. It reminds me that Fred showed me how to box. Thankfully I never required that skill. And as for football, it is no wonder I dislike it, as he would tackle me. Every time I heard him shout, “Tackle!” I would cringe. And down I would go.
And the irony is that he is the one who fell. Tackled by MS.
He once told me he regretted not being more of a brother to me. I don’t think he could have been a better brother. He was truly my inspiration.
And the inspiration of many, including his students. I recall when Fred told me he saw one of his students as an adult, who told him he never forgot “Mr. D”, his favorite teacher, who taught him so much.
Fred valued reading, learning, and writing, and that’s probably why I became a writer.
Now Fred joins our valued team of spirits watching over us, adding to the intelligence in heaven.
We will always remember burning chocolate candies. Though the three of us kids still cannot recall if it was Easter or Christmas when we invented that. Actually we don’t know who invented it. It didn’t matter; we were a team. And Christmas was when we never fought, the four of us.
I want to tell a story one of his friends, a lifelong friend, recalled last night. He said he saw Fred for the last time a few months ago. They had lunch with another friend. Fred wouldn’t let them pay because, he told them, they were the only ones who befriended him in school when he first arrived here.
That’s Fred.
We love you, Ferdinando.
Caro Fredi
He began his life as Ferdinando Lorenzo DeNicola, in Italy.
My last long conversation with my brother was on his birthday, and it was about intelligence. He was one of the very few I know who value it and can be considered intelligent. We both thought that was our best conversation ever.
My earliest memory of him is watching Saturday morning cartoons. I remember when the Flintstones started, and he very excitedly announced its arrival. My other early memory is sports. I rooted for the Mets just to annoy him; he liked the Yankees. I told him I knew they were in different “leagoos” (leagues). He would steal all my Spauldings to play baseball.
I watch my son Logan at boxing lessons. It reminds me that Fred showed me how to box. Thankfully I never required that skill. And as for football, it is no wonder I dislike it, as he would tackle me. Every time I heard him shout, “Tackle!” I would cringe. And down I would go.
And the irony is that he is the one who fell. Tackled by MS.
He once told me he regretted not being more of a brother to me. I don’t think he could have been a better brother. He was truly my inspiration.
And the inspiration of many, including his students. I recall when Fred told me he saw one of his students as an adult, who told him he never forgot “Mr. D”, his favorite teacher, who taught him so much.
Fred valued reading, learning, and writing, and that’s probably why I became a writer.
Now Fred joins our valued team of spirits watching over us, adding to the intelligence in heaven.
We will always remember burning chocolate candies. Though the three of us kids still cannot recall if it was Easter or Christmas when we invented that. Actually we don’t know who invented it. It didn’t matter; we were a team. And Christmas was when we never fought, the four of us.
I want to tell a story one of his friends, a lifelong friend, recalled last night. He said he saw Fred for the last time a few months ago. They had lunch with another friend. Fred wouldn’t let them pay because, he told them, they were the only ones who befriended him in school when he first arrived here.
That’s Fred.
We love you, Ferdinando.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
A Holiday Wish
By Paula Chapman
This is a short short story I wrote for my son's first grade class that I will read to them at their holiday party.
“Grandma! Grandpa!” shouted Lenny as his grandparents came into the living room. “I didn’t think you could come! It’s snowing really hard out!”
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world!” said Grandma as she took off her wool cap. “Besides, I wanted to see what Santa brought you!” she said.
Grandma noticed that Lenny looked sat. He put his head down and walked away.
“We told him,” said Lenny’s dad, Joseph. “This year, because I lost my job, Santa didn’t come.”
Grandma could hear Lenny crying in the kitchen as his mother, Lucille, said, “Shhh, it’s all right, Lenny. It’s all right.”
Grandpa slid out the side door.
“Where are you going?” asked his wife, always observant.
“Just out to bring in your pie. I left … it … in the car.”
Grandma stared at the pie her son Joseph held. “Oh. Okay,” she said.
“Dear,” Grandma whispered to Joseph. “You could have asked us for help …”
“We did. We used the money you sent us to pay bills and get food for this feast.” He pointed to the kitchen where his wife was heating up the gravy for the huge turkey he had purchased at Wegman’s. “I’m making your favorite, Mom. Fried zucchini.” Joseph looked sad as he heard his little son continue to cry in the kitchen, his mother offering him a cookie.
Grandpa returned and Lucille emerged from the kitchen. Everyone sat around the fire.
“We use the fireplace more now,” Lucille said.
“And that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” said Grandpa.
Grandma nodded.
Lenny blew his nose. He ran over to sit on Grandpa’s lap.
“What do you do after school, Lenny?” he asked his grandson.
“We … I had to sell my video game system. And they stopped our cable, so we can’t watch TV.” He sat thoughtfully for a moment, finger on his chin. “Grandma! I didn’t know you played piano!”
“Yes, I actually taught piano!” she said proudly.
“And mom won first place in the science fair at her school four years in a row!” he added.
“Wow!” said Grandpa as Joseph nodded and smiled.
“And Grandpa, did you know Dad played football and sang in the glee club at school, and that he was given four awards at his job before he left?”
“Yes, I know!” Grandpa said, laughing. “I remember all too well!”
Lenny thought for a while. “I didn’t know any of that until we talked.”
The adults all looked at each other.
Lenny looked at the tiny tree he had helped his mother decorate. “I like it without lights,” he said, smiling from ear to ear.
“I didn’t know any of that fun stuff until we started talking more after school!” Lenny said. “And we talk before bed, when I read my books. And at breakfast.” He looked at Grandma.
“Is that what Mom meant by the Holidays being about love?”
“I think so,” said Grandma, smiling at Lucille. She walked over to Lenny and gave him a huge hug.
“But I don’t think Santa forgot you,” said Grandpa, getting up to open the back door. “Whoa! I think you’d better come see!”
Lenny burst out of the room and out the door, feasting his eyes on a brand new Wii system, equipped with games.
There was a note attached to the Wii box.
“Grandpa! Look!” Lenny brought the system and games into the house.
He began reading the note. “Dear Lenny, I hope you keep reading, doing well in school, and that you continue listening to your parents and teachers. They are the most important in your life. I give you this game because I know everyone needs to have some fun after working so hard. But you must include your parents and grandparents when you play. That is why I got you games you can share with them. And you must continue to talk to each other. Because that is what the holidays and love are all about. Love, Santa. Ho-ho-ho!”
“Wow!” Lenny was shocked. He put the game aside.
“Aren’t you going to hook it up?” asked his Dad.
“Later, Dad.” Lenny sat back on Grandpa’s lap. “First I want to hear something interesting about Grandpa! What did you look like when you were a kid, Grandpa?”
“Well,” began Grandpa with a chuckle. “For one thing, I wasn’t as good-looking or smart as you!”
“Thanks, Dad,” whispered Joseph.
“I love you all,” said Grandpa. “Things will get better. Love makes things happen.”
Happy Holidays to all!
This is a short short story I wrote for my son's first grade class that I will read to them at their holiday party.
“Grandma! Grandpa!” shouted Lenny as his grandparents came into the living room. “I didn’t think you could come! It’s snowing really hard out!”
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world!” said Grandma as she took off her wool cap. “Besides, I wanted to see what Santa brought you!” she said.
Grandma noticed that Lenny looked sat. He put his head down and walked away.
“We told him,” said Lenny’s dad, Joseph. “This year, because I lost my job, Santa didn’t come.”
Grandma could hear Lenny crying in the kitchen as his mother, Lucille, said, “Shhh, it’s all right, Lenny. It’s all right.”
Grandpa slid out the side door.
“Where are you going?” asked his wife, always observant.
“Just out to bring in your pie. I left … it … in the car.”
Grandma stared at the pie her son Joseph held. “Oh. Okay,” she said.
“Dear,” Grandma whispered to Joseph. “You could have asked us for help …”
“We did. We used the money you sent us to pay bills and get food for this feast.” He pointed to the kitchen where his wife was heating up the gravy for the huge turkey he had purchased at Wegman’s. “I’m making your favorite, Mom. Fried zucchini.” Joseph looked sad as he heard his little son continue to cry in the kitchen, his mother offering him a cookie.
Grandpa returned and Lucille emerged from the kitchen. Everyone sat around the fire.
“We use the fireplace more now,” Lucille said.
“And that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” said Grandpa.
Grandma nodded.
Lenny blew his nose. He ran over to sit on Grandpa’s lap.
“What do you do after school, Lenny?” he asked his grandson.
“We … I had to sell my video game system. And they stopped our cable, so we can’t watch TV.” He sat thoughtfully for a moment, finger on his chin. “Grandma! I didn’t know you played piano!”
“Yes, I actually taught piano!” she said proudly.
“And mom won first place in the science fair at her school four years in a row!” he added.
“Wow!” said Grandpa as Joseph nodded and smiled.
“And Grandpa, did you know Dad played football and sang in the glee club at school, and that he was given four awards at his job before he left?”
“Yes, I know!” Grandpa said, laughing. “I remember all too well!”
Lenny thought for a while. “I didn’t know any of that until we talked.”
The adults all looked at each other.
Lenny looked at the tiny tree he had helped his mother decorate. “I like it without lights,” he said, smiling from ear to ear.
“I didn’t know any of that fun stuff until we started talking more after school!” Lenny said. “And we talk before bed, when I read my books. And at breakfast.” He looked at Grandma.
“Is that what Mom meant by the Holidays being about love?”
“I think so,” said Grandma, smiling at Lucille. She walked over to Lenny and gave him a huge hug.
“But I don’t think Santa forgot you,” said Grandpa, getting up to open the back door. “Whoa! I think you’d better come see!”
Lenny burst out of the room and out the door, feasting his eyes on a brand new Wii system, equipped with games.
There was a note attached to the Wii box.
“Grandpa! Look!” Lenny brought the system and games into the house.
He began reading the note. “Dear Lenny, I hope you keep reading, doing well in school, and that you continue listening to your parents and teachers. They are the most important in your life. I give you this game because I know everyone needs to have some fun after working so hard. But you must include your parents and grandparents when you play. That is why I got you games you can share with them. And you must continue to talk to each other. Because that is what the holidays and love are all about. Love, Santa. Ho-ho-ho!”
“Wow!” Lenny was shocked. He put the game aside.
“Aren’t you going to hook it up?” asked his Dad.
“Later, Dad.” Lenny sat back on Grandpa’s lap. “First I want to hear something interesting about Grandpa! What did you look like when you were a kid, Grandpa?”
“Well,” began Grandpa with a chuckle. “For one thing, I wasn’t as good-looking or smart as you!”
“Thanks, Dad,” whispered Joseph.
“I love you all,” said Grandpa. “Things will get better. Love makes things happen.”
Happy Holidays to all!
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Write Him Up
I do not claim to be a political pundit, but I am rather a human resources, business and management pundit.
This text is from msnbc.com:
WASHINGTON - U.S. Democrats and Republicans alike are denouncing Rep. Joe Wilson for shouting "You lie" at President Barack Obama during his speech to Congress, an extraordinary breach of decorum for which the South Carolina Republican swiftly apologized.
"There'll be time enough to consider whether or not we ought to make it clear that that action is unacceptable in the House of Representatives," House Majority Leader Steny Hoyer said late Wednesday on WTOP radio when asked about possible punishment for Wilson. "I've talked to Republican members who share that view."
Write him up! When someone at work rudely contradicts a supervisor, or another worker, for that matter, don't we write them up? When Stanley on the NBC TV program The Office responded, "Did I stutter?" to his boss Michael Scott, though Michael was hesitant to speak with him due to his desire to be friends with his employees, did he not tell him the comment and delivery were unprofessional? Who can deny the unprofessionalism of Wilson's remark and behavior despite political affiliation or lack thereof?
Steny and Barack, write Joe up. Warn him. That was a disgrace, and the day after hearing the President address school kids about how to be respectful and cooperative, to hear an adult acting like the "bad teen" was really offensive to me as a parent and me as a supervisor and always respectful employee.
This text is from msnbc.com:
WASHINGTON - U.S. Democrats and Republicans alike are denouncing Rep. Joe Wilson for shouting "You lie" at President Barack Obama during his speech to Congress, an extraordinary breach of decorum for which the South Carolina Republican swiftly apologized.
"There'll be time enough to consider whether or not we ought to make it clear that that action is unacceptable in the House of Representatives," House Majority Leader Steny Hoyer said late Wednesday on WTOP radio when asked about possible punishment for Wilson. "I've talked to Republican members who share that view."
Write him up! When someone at work rudely contradicts a supervisor, or another worker, for that matter, don't we write them up? When Stanley on the NBC TV program The Office responded, "Did I stutter?" to his boss Michael Scott, though Michael was hesitant to speak with him due to his desire to be friends with his employees, did he not tell him the comment and delivery were unprofessional? Who can deny the unprofessionalism of Wilson's remark and behavior despite political affiliation or lack thereof?
Steny and Barack, write Joe up. Warn him. That was a disgrace, and the day after hearing the President address school kids about how to be respectful and cooperative, to hear an adult acting like the "bad teen" was really offensive to me as a parent and me as a supervisor and always respectful employee.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
First Day of School
Okay, I did not freak out like I did Sept. 4, 2008. This was, after all, not really his first day of school but simply the first day back after his first school hiatus.
But I still cried when I woke him up. I got over it in a few minutes. And I still took his picture.
But I noticed that things were not the same. Our loyal and loved neighbor of five years, Lonnie, moved and thus was not out front watching him board the bus as she did just about every day last year. And this year, I did not board my car to head to work.
And this year, Logan is taller, more mature, and was afraid to get his new pants dirty if he sat on our front steps to wait for the bus.
Mrs. Fischetti is not the school secretary anymore. She moved up to the regional office.
And thus again I am reminded that change is difficult. But I know it is necessary, and thus this time I did not cry for very long.
But I did cry, and so you see, some things do not change.
I took the dogs for an hour's walk/jog. It's good to have some constants to hang onto.
Oh, yes, and my friend Brandon, whose political views differ vastly from mine. That's been a constant for six years, since I've known him.
Hail to the constants! Is that even a word?
Have a great start to the new school year, kids, and enjoy Obama's speech.
But I still cried when I woke him up. I got over it in a few minutes. And I still took his picture.
But I noticed that things were not the same. Our loyal and loved neighbor of five years, Lonnie, moved and thus was not out front watching him board the bus as she did just about every day last year. And this year, I did not board my car to head to work.
And this year, Logan is taller, more mature, and was afraid to get his new pants dirty if he sat on our front steps to wait for the bus.
Mrs. Fischetti is not the school secretary anymore. She moved up to the regional office.
And thus again I am reminded that change is difficult. But I know it is necessary, and thus this time I did not cry for very long.
But I did cry, and so you see, some things do not change.
I took the dogs for an hour's walk/jog. It's good to have some constants to hang onto.
Oh, yes, and my friend Brandon, whose political views differ vastly from mine. That's been a constant for six years, since I've known him.
Hail to the constants! Is that even a word?
Have a great start to the new school year, kids, and enjoy Obama's speech.
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