"i am nothing without you, but i don't know who you are...." - vienna teng

It's funny how we store things in little boxes, imagining that one day we'll go through them with time to reminisce, share, tell our story.

My great-aunt is dead. She died a month ago, alone and aged nearly 95 and her memories fading, drifting away. She was our family historian. I would look forward to birthday and christmas cards because they always held a story of her past.

April 19, 2004

Thank you so much for sending me the invitation to your graduation. It brought back memories of my high school graduation. Only 20 of us, but very formal. Wore long gowns - pink organza with ruffles topped with blue taffeta jackets with puffed sleeves from B. Altmann. Your grandfather and great grandfather ordered a basket of flowers and chose blue delphiniums and pink stock. The nuns loved it and used it on the stage - too bad we did not have color prints at that time, 71 years ago.

My beautiful, smart, adventurous Aunt Marie. How we will miss you. And your things all in storage so far away in California, with their secrets locked never to be told. What other tales you could have shared... what other life you could have breathed into photos...

Perhaps it's the plague of a lover of words, perhaps its the destiny of someone who lost so many so young. I sit and go through my own photos. Twenty-seven short years. Who will read my tale when I grow old? Who will carry the stories of my photos and poems and journals and artwork left behind?

Make New Friends but Keep the Old...

Make new friends
but keep the old;
one is silver
and the other gold.

A circle starts
but never ends;
that's how long
I want to be your friend.

I remember singing this song as a very young Girl Scout and for some odd reason it has always stuck with me. I've always had problems making and keeping friends. It is easy to pass through life with only acquaintances; real friendships take time. Those real friendships require intimacy, trust, forgiveness, and giving. A whole LOT of giving.

I'm an only child; always have been and always will be (as I don't think my mother has any plans of starting over NOW). And with a small family, I have come to rely on those few intimate friendships that I've developed over time. And sometimes - no, a lot of times - I think back to people that I knew in middle school and high school and wonder what happened to them. Those passing acquaintances that I always wanted to get to know better but was either too shy or too much of a nerd and not in the same social class with them. Middle school and high school were not easy for me; I wanted to be friends with the "cool kids" because they were this enigma to me. And sometimes they would show the tiniest bit of kindness, though never in front of their other friends, and I would get my hopes up. But it never lasted, and I would undoubtedly go back to being the kid who was shy, withdrawn, smart, and in a class apart with a set group of friends to pick from. Do I regret that? No. I made some fabulous friends, despite losing touch with many of them. But that is what happens when you start over in life and move on.

For the past 8 years I have made my life in Philadelphia, going home to visit my Mom on Long Island for weekends and holidays. Some day I probably will go back when time has past and I feel reconciled with those connections I lost along the way. Some day I will feel like I fit in with all those people I grew up around and the town I grew up in. But that isn't today.

But I am grateful for the few close, true friends I have. People come into our lives at a specific time for a specific reason. They won't all last, I know that. But for right now, after this weekend especially, I love the people in my life. Above all Paul and my Mom, and close behind with a special place in my life are Joe and Joyce and Amanda and Ash and Meredith and Julie and Taylor... and so many others. And of course there are countless people who flit in and out of my weekly existence that I love, but they are too many to list so you'll just have to assume you're on there.

And perhaps one day one of these people listed below (in no particular order) will Google their name and know that I wonder where they are, how they are, even if I haven't reached out to them recently or at all. Some have found me on Facebook but we really haven't talked. Some have found me on MySpace but it's a horrible means of communication. Teachers, friends, mentors, people who lived near by, people who I knew for a fleeting moment, people who may not remember me or ever give me a second thought, people who showed me a small kindness that I never said thank-you for, people who I put off getting back to and now have lost touch with completely, people who may have found me annoying when I was younger, people who I miss... I just wonder... and somewhere in the burbs of Philadelphia there is a thought going your way....

Chris Haunss ... Matt Fiordaliso ... Erin Mallay ... Mike Marchello ... Tara Farrell ...Matt Schuler ... Cat Goncalves ... Andrew Hetzler ... Kurt Frankhauser ...Goldie Seiderman ...Kristin Studer ... Greg LaFauci ... Holly Zino ... Jacob Rothstein ... Levi Halberstadt ... Larry LeBron ... Bobby Kelly ...Jason Cantwell ... John Kikut ... Frank Van Zant ... Laura Napolitano ... Michael Scuzzese ... Danielle Tumminio ... Matt McBride ... Kate Timothy ... Tom Devlin ... Caitlin Gutekunst ... Keith Gamache ... Kim Lowenburg ...

Time it was and what a time it was it was
a time of innocence a time of confidences.

Long ago it must be, I have a photograph
preserve your memories; they're all that's left you.
~ simon&garfunkle

No Longer a Virgin

I have blogged and I have loved it. And I have shamelessly poured over, nay coveted other people's blogs and devoured page upon page of their life. But I stopped blogging because few people read it, few people cared, and I am a comment whore. Yes, I love comments. Where is the satisfaction if no one else is reading it?

But here I am creating a blog because:

1. I have a MA in writing but hardly ever write unless it involves Diabetes or curd-like vaginal discharge or something equally disgusting or geriatric or medical-ish. (Like my vocabulary? I paid nearly $80K for this stellar writing style)
2. I miss writing. I miss recording my life in a place where everyone can see it and know what I'm doing and - hell - even perhaps care.
3. I need an outlet.

So the purpose of this blog you may ask? Well, dear reader, it is to take the time, to breath, and to remember that there are reasons to be happy. Millions of tiny, stupid, inconsequential things that in a given day we are grateful for, happy about, or laugh over. So here goes. One more thing to add to my list of things to do, one more thing to be happy about, one more way to remember it.

Gratefulness* recording begins tomorrow.


*note: I do not endorse the use of my made-up words in any way but I reserve the right to use them because dammit my MA in writing means SOMETHING.