Archive for December, 2010

Love Rituals

Wednesday, December 22nd, 2010

“The most important thing in life is to learn how to give out love, and to let it come in.” ~  Morrie Schwartz

Well over a decade ago I began a new ritual or “habit” with my mom, dad and relatives, and I’m so grateful I did.  This was a positive ritual, not like smoking crack, shooting squirrels with a bb gun, or drinking before noon.  Our little ritual was something which only took a second or two, and it costs nothing.  Bet you can guess what it is.  You may even partake with your own family and friends — it’s the simple act of saying “I Love You” before hanging up the phone, or telling each other “I Love You” while hugging goodbye in person.

(ITALIAN LESSON: I love you very much =   ti voglio bene)

Say I Love You Today

Try saying I LOVE YOU to your family next time you say goodbye.  It may feel a bit foreign to you at first, but it will become second nature very quickly.  One day, I know you’ll look back and be so appreciative you took this advice. 

Your welcome,

 ~ Me


One more day (a dream gift)

Thursday, December 9th, 2010
~ A very special post by my brother, Jesse Romano ~
 Goodbye Mom
                            ~ Jesse & Mom ~
After my dad died, I prayed to God many times to let me see my father one last time.  Last night God gave me both of my parents in a dream.  “Wow, I never dream,” I thought to myself.  In this dream, I’m in my kitchen, and all of a sudden I hear voices — voices I heard once before when everything was perfect.  I hear, “Son, come here, it’s your father.” 
I walk down the hall slowly in disbelief.  My father was sitting on the couch smiling at me, so I then begin to run to him as if I were Lausanne Bolt! Dad gave me a big hug, and tapped my face lightly saying, “hey paisan!”.  I smiled at him, and he said “I have a surprise for you…come here, hon”, and as I turned to look, I saw my mother! I went over to her, squeezed her tightly and I gave her a kiss.  At this point I was confused, so I asked, “How could this be?” My father and mother said “God is giving you one day with us.” 
My prayers were finally answered! I then proceeded to hug both of them at the same time.  I asked my mother what happened (with her death) she told me she was tired of worrying, and she missed my dad.  I told her about my pain, and my sister Lee’s pain, and how her grandkids are a mess without her.  She said, “I know, but I knew you guys would be OK.   You have each other — you have your sister, your kids and Tiffany.”
I spent most of the time hugging them, holding them tight, never to let go again.  My dad and I also went crabbing that day, then I helped put the mozzarella on mom’s lasagna — everything was just like old times.  I was so happy, but as the night grew to a close, I knew that my time to tell them goodbye was drawing near.  It was one more time for my parents to be close to me.  They told me not to worry and not to be sad, everything would be just fine. My mom told me that my daughter Nayonni needs me to be strong, and they need me to be strong.  They told me they know this is hard, but they’ll always be in our hearts and souls.  They said “goodbye son, we will always watch over you and the family”.
When I woke up, I looked over and saw my little girl in my bed, so I put my arm around her, gave her a kiss and said “I love you.” 
Thank you God, was the only other thing I could say.

Mourning Mom: this can’t be real

Wednesday, December 8th, 2010

“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.”

Not to sound cliché, but this is by far the hardest, most heart-wrenching post I have written so far.  Honestly, if anything else in the next decade comes anywhere near this, immediately find me a stiff new straitjacket, so I can throw myself into a padded room — forever.

Ok, here comes the hard part, words I thought I would not have to write about for at least another decade:  Mom is gone.  My wonderful witty mom passed away in her sleep Thanksgiving morning.  No warning, no illness, no clues, no nothing, no mom. Mom is gone. Mom is gone. I have to repeat myself over and over, because I just cannot believe it’s real. I’m hoping my next post is about the coma I’ve been in for the past week or so — I’ll write about how when I awoke, mom was there with one of her famous QVC jewelry trinkets for me to open, and a pot of her famous spaghetti sauce bubbling away on the stove, so we could all get home and enjoy a  nice Italian dinner in celebration of my new coma-free existence.

Yes, mom is gone.  My house is filled with condolence cards, flowers and such very touching notes from caring family and friends, but somehow it doesn’t seem real. It CAN’T be real.  Mom was SO ALIVE, so funny, always ready with a wise-crack, or words of wisdom.  I loved her advice. She was one of my best friends in the whole world. I see the cards with her photo and a pretty poem, yet I’ll still dial her phone number and expect her to pick up.  I’ll want to call her about who was just told to f*ck off on Hell’s Kitchen, or who we think should have gotten fired on The Apprentice, or the new boots I bought, but then the cold harsh smack of reality hits me right in the face, telling me those days are over.

Mom & I would dish together, watch movies together, shop together, cook dinners (for my hubby and the furkids) together and every so often I’d mix up a couple of whiskey sours and mom would share her humorous and wonderful stories which fill a small notebook of mine.

Loss of any kind is a real tough pill to swallow,  and when you lose a mom and a best friend, you feel like your heart is literally ripping apart. With that said, I think I’ll mix up two whiskey sours, leaving one on the coffee table in mom’s honor.   I just hope I don’t water them down with all of my tears.

Mom, you will be missed

Love you & miss you forever Mom

xo Your daughter

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