Friday, September 4, 2009

Happy Birthday, Mom - I Miss YOU


Wow!

It has been ten years since you left me.

A lot has happened.

First of all... Happy Birthday, Mom - you would have been 69 years old today.

Since then I have been through many trials, some tribulations and, lately, I have even been blessed with a few triumphs sprinkled along the way.

Dan, Mike & Sue all send their love I am sure... All are living their lives best they can I suppose. I talk to Dan more so than anyone in the family. He seems to be the only one I can talk to. I know how you used to try to instill in me about forgiving and forgetting; accepting people for who they are. You know, I think that is just making excuses for some people, but that's not what this letter is all about.

I was reunited with my niece earlier this year...thank you, because I truly have faith that you had something to do with orchestrating that.

Nephew is coming along; learning lessons from the exuberance of youth, I am sure. Bottom line, like all of us, he's a good kid at heart; just trying to grow up too fast I suppose.

How's Dad?

Tell him he's been getting raves for his 'Ave Maria' recording - yeah, I did it - it's out there - people from all over the world are listening to him sing. It's incredible. A lady from Italy, a guy from Ireland, a family from the United Arab Emirates for crying out loud! That thing called the Internet that you never got a chance to really experience while you were here, it's a wonderful thing - if used wisely.

It reminds me of you in a lot of ways: it's useful, can help get a lot of things accomplished in a short time and brings people together.

I know you already know about all those who have passed on to your neck of the woods - I know it sounds funny, but tell them all that I hope all has been fabulous with them.

Tell Trudi that I am sorry I never got to say goodbye to her...even though she made it well into her 70s, I was actually shocked she passed on - she really seemed like one that would out live us all.

I am not sad or depressed...people think I throw myself too much into my art, my writing, these videos I am sure you've seen some of from up there; always working, always doing...

I guess, in all honesty Mom - I am trying to leave my legacy. That word gets tossed around so much and I just remember how talented you were with the painting, cooking, photography and writing and Dad with his singing and writings, as well (yes, I discovered his poems he wrote you after you passed - I was floored at their simplicity and beauty)...

See, you had all these talents - the two of you - and he would mope and wonder what if... sure, he raised a family and had to do what he had to do. I could never even begin to know what that is like, BUT I do still make it happen just like I did when you were here...more so now that I moved 1200 miles away from home. So, I pump the art out like 'nothing' to some because I don't get caught up in what if's and worry about how much I will make, or what I will get from it.

I produce, write it, publish it, post it and done - onto the next thing, Mom - you taught me all the time about letting go and letting God...I have recently discovered that I do that in my everyday life; like all the time...with each poem, each blog, each video, each job at the day gig, each task at hand - I do what I do and I move on...

I have found this is the best way for me and you and Dad taught me to be this way all along the way. I moved so far away from home partially due to circumstance, but mostly running to get as far away as possible...yet keeping my sense about me. It had to be doable. Diva and David made it so easy for me. They are wonderful, amazing friends. My inate adaptable persona helped too - and I have thrived in so many ways.

Pam sort of picked up where you left off insofar as 'motherly' advice and just simply loving me for me. I also think you orchestrated that somehow too... because even though I knew her before you passed away, she really stepped in and hasn't stopped doing so since. You have no idea what her friendship means to me. Although, after watching you with your friends over the years, I am sure you actually do know.

Anya is doing well...thanks for saving her from that car wreck earlier this year. When we realized about the time of year that happened and how you used to speak about guardian angels all the time...well, it just made sense. Ah, Anya is like a cat anyway - I am sure she has plenty more lives, but it sure was a nice save by whoever was watching out for her that day.

If I were still a gambling man, I would think you had something to do with that too.

So, to celebrate your birthday these past few years I take the day off from the 'day job' and create things artistic in honor of all the support you and Dad both gave me (I do the same when his birthday comes around in May) throughout your lives. You have no idea how much your encouragement especially has developed and molded me into not only the artist I am today, but the PERSON I am trying to become.

Thank YOU - I firmly do believe that even though I can not physically see or touch or talk to you - I feel your presence around me all the time.

It is in the beauty I see in the morning sunrise.

It is in the smile I see from the many faces in the crowd, as I walk by and say hello to everybody - 'even if they never say hello back to me.'

It shows up when I look upon two birds bickering about the bushes and I think of you bantering around back and forth with an old girlfriend.

I see it in a batch of freshly baked biscuits or your baked macaroni and cheese.

I hear it when my dear brother, Dan, and I just sit back and laugh about nothing at all important.

I hear it when Pam is telling me like it is; or when Diva lets me have it for something silly or less than me.

I hear it whenever I hear some Luciano Pavarotti, Barbra Streisand, Tina Turner or Judy Garland, oh how the list of music could go on and on...

I feel it when the wind hits me just right on the face and I breathe in the ocean air, which calms me slightly during an ever stressful day.

I feel it when I lay alone in the dark and it seems like someone else is in the room...yet, I am not afraid.

I feel it - in my soul - when I see a lit candle; all by itself.

Most of all, I sense you praying all the time - you never stopped when you were here and I never stop now...that is why I know it with all my heart and soul.

We always took the weight of the world on.

Always allowing people to say what they will about whatever because 'they were leaving someone else alone.'

'We pray in times both good and bad,
Even more so when happy than sad
Because God hears all prayers everyday,
Which surely will keep that damn devil away'

Our little mantra, yes - I still remember...

And I always will...

Especially this 4th day of September...

Blessings and love,
Your son and friend,
Antonio