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    Pathways


    2008 - 04.20

    The circle of life-it’s just so fascinating!

    Think of it-we’re created by 2 people, allowed to feel all warm and snuggly in a womb for 9 months. Then we are abruptly pushed out into this new world. We can’t do much of anything for a couple of months. Just eat, sleep, and release waste. Then we start getting it together. We move, we crawl, we walk. Here’s the first day of school-Mom and Dad are standing there crying because we’re not babies anymore. Graduation is here, college or work, career, meeting the right person, settling down, having a baby of our own. Planning weddings, baby showers. Then we slow down, and slow down some more. And one day, our cycle is completed. Then it’s time to start all over again.

    Putting it all down on “paper” it looks so precise. But we all know it isn’t.

    Each thing we do from the time we are a baby till we pass away is filled with choices or pathways, if you will. Just think about the various choices you have made. I believe that if we could see our life as a road map, we would see all these smaller roads shooting off the main one. Some would look well traveled, and others would look brand new. These would be our various possible destinies.

    As a child, I was sure I wanted to be either a scientist, FBI agent, veterinarian, or maybe a school teacher. Being incredibly shy, it would be hard to do any of those things. When I was about 17 or 18, I had made a choice of wanting to be a photographic journalist. My folks wanted me in something less demanding and more solid. They suggested I become a secretary. I balked and ended up working for the Muscular Dystrophy Association as a clerk typist/secretary. Hmmm, seems my balking didn’t do me any good.

    A choice had been made, no, I didn’t want to be a secretary, but I needed a job. So, I ended up doing exactly what I didn’t want to do. Was it a bad thing? Not at all. I made some very good friends with both my co-workers and some of the patients. It is still something near and dear to my heart. I found I enjoyed working with people and helping them.

    From there, I found a job as a data entry clerk-not a lot different from a clerk typist. Then, got married, left NYS, moved back. Got a job at the same electronic distribution place, this time as an expeditor. Got pregnant, quit, had Denise, then Susan, then Paul! Three kids in five years-we didn’t waste any time :)

    Choices again. My husband at the time and I separated. We definitely were not a match made in heaven. But we had made a choice, learned our life lessons from each other and moved on. Enter the next husband a couple of years later. And while that didn’t last, it again showed me more life lessons.

    Pathways-each decision I made was part of my pathway. What if I hadn’t made some of those decisions? Where would I have been? Would I have become a photojournalist, and possibly gone to document a war? Would I have been killed? Would I have met someone from another country and married them, divorced them. How would my life have changed?

    If I had gone to a secretarial school, would I now have a career as an administrative assistant? Would I have even gotten married and had children? Remember I told you I was very shy until I was 32 years old-I didn’t talk to anyone if I could help it. Hey, stop laughing out there-those of you that know me now! :)

    What would have happened to the 3 beautiful children I had if I had done anything differently? Would I have had them? Would I have been childless, traveling all over the world? Would I still be a secretary in a firm that I’d been with for 30 years? Who knows?

    But, the choices I made brought me 2 husbands who taught me things. And it brought me my Denise, Susie, and Paul.

    Ahhh, but here’s the rub-pathways affect us, and when we start having children, we start deciding what pathways we would like them to take.

    Think about you giving birth, and holding your first child for the very first time. You look lovingly into this child’s face and want only the biggest and best for them. You watch them grow, playing with brother or sister, you think, they would make a wonderful teacher. Bringing in a friend or sibling that has gotten hurt, you watch them nurture that child, and you think, a doctor, that’s what they are going to be.

    And sometimes, as parents, we forget that our children have their own pathways to follow. They make the final choices. Not us. We tell them we know what’s best for them. And yes, we have life’s wisdom on our side. But we had to learn it the hard way ourselves. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t listen to my folks when they tried to tell me things.

    And then our children our grown-out on their own. Making their own destinies. And all we can do is be here for them if they need us. Yes, we can give them advice, but be prepared, Mom and Dad, they probably won’t take it.

    Denise is getting married to Dave on May 24, 2008-she has a decent job, they live in the city and have opened their house up to brother Paul. I’ll come back to him in a moment.

    Susan and Russ set a date to get married as well. August 13, 2009. They are currently living in Irondequoit. They are saving for a house.

    And then there’s Paul. He’s single, at least I think he is this week! He works long hours. He has a sweat shirt that says something like will rant and rave without cause. And I have to tell you, that is so very true. Within this article, you will find an audio file that is dedicated to my son, Paul.

    Pathways-destinies, choices. Upon hearing the audio file, just remember, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

    Next time you see the your own life road map, remember that you have made those choices, that you have made the pathway that has brought you here. And that for better or worse, you are exactly where you are supposed to be.

    Till next time.

    My Son Paul –

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    Animal Spirit Antics


    2008 - 03.05

    I’m 52 years old (or young-take your pick).

    I have had animals in my life for my entire life and it always amazes me how they find me or how I find them.

    My parents had a Boxer named Mitzi even before I was born. Once they had me, it could have gone one of two ways. The way it went, I pretty much ended up being Mitzi’s puppy! She was so protective of me. And when the time came for me to start walking-well, that poor dog’s stub of a tail came in real handy! Yep-I sure did-I’d grab it, pull myself up and she would take tiny steps. She knew what I was trying to accomplish and helped me to accomplish that goal. Unfortunately for us, we had farmers in the area at that time who believed in putting rat poison out. There were no leash laws then, so she had the run of several nearby farms. She ended up dying from rat poison. It was devastating for my mom and dad, and also for me.

    But, wait-along came Bo-Bo, a black French poodle. Very sleek and playful, I adored him, he adored me. Unfortunately, we went on vacation to Florida, and when we got home, my folks broke the news to me that he had gotten distemper and died while we were away. Soooooooo,

    My mom talked my dad into getting yet another dog-he figured it would make her happy and give me something to play with! (don’t forget, I was an only child) Hey who said spoiled rotten???? So, Mom started looking and found a white poodle-we were really original with his name-we named him Pierre. What else would you name a French poodle. He was mom’s dog from the very beginning. Following her around, sitting adoringly at her feet. My dad was a plumber in those days and poor Pierre didn’t sit at his feet after he’d been working all day. (not that I’m trying to insinuate a thing, mind you).

    Pierre was a jumper! He’d get excited, he’d jump, he’d get nervous, he’d jump, and if people came who he didn’t know or didn’t like-he jumped! We had a milkman-yes, those were the cave days when milk actually got delivered. And one day, when our wonderful milkman came in to the house to bring us our milk, yep, you guessed it, Pierre jumped and bit that poor man right on his butt!!! And my mom, being a very caring individual, said without thinking, do you want me to get you a Band-Aid??? Once she realized where he’d gotten nipped, she turned a lovely shade of red! So did the milkman!

    Now, Pierre wasn’t a bad dog by nature. He was a lot of fun! But if you were really tall, or had a loud voice, well, that made him nervous.

    On to the next story! We had a farmer who had an extremely loud voice. Usually, Pierre would just sit there and look at him. One day the farmer had stopped in and was very upset about something. He had raised his voice and was throwing his hands and arms around to make a point. Pierre took one look at him, growled low in his throat, looked at my mom as if to say, I’ll protect you! And yep, you guessed it, right in the butt again! Only this time, the farmer was only about 5″6′, not 6’5″, so he got it a little easier.

    Now, neither of these times did the dog break the skin-he was really just being protective of Mom.

    Remember I said that Pierre was mom’s dog-well, it might have something to do with the fact that I was still pretty young and liked to dress Pierre up in doll clothes. Plus, my folks had been nice enough to get me a toy baby carriage. Poor dog, dressed all in pink in the doll carriage giving me the evil eye, and my mother imploring looks of help me!!

    We had Pierre for about 18 years. Toward the end of his life, his back legs finally gave out and we would have to take him out to do his business. But we did it because we felt unconditional love for this dog that had stayed by our side for all those years.

    When I graduated from high school, my best friend and I asked each other what we wanted as gifts. We decided we would get each other something that, even though we had asked for them, no one had gotten us. She wanted a ring-a blue star sapphire. I wanted a cat. My dad did not want a cat! So, Judy and I figured that if she gave me a cat as a gift, he couldn’t say no! And he didn’t. Daddy let me keep my kitty! She was grey and white, fluffy and her name was Kocham-which is not the right spelling, but it’s Polish for Love! She was my kitty-slept with me, loved me, figured out how if you went in the outside fireplace, you could come down a short way in the inside fireplace and wouldn’t have to wait for anyone to let her in. We had her for a number of years too, and she finally passed of old age.

    Now, remember I told you that Pierre had passed away after 18 years-well, I figured we had to get another dog almost right away! Mom and Dad didn’t want to, but being the brat I was (alright, still am), I insisted. We got a miniature Schnauzer named Winston Devon Crowell. Winnie had his own way of doing things. He was the cutest little bundle of grey fur, but very protective of Mom. He was very aristocratic with a name like he had, and wouldn’t play except with Mom! He tolerated Dad, and couldn’t figure out what I was doing there-after all, they really only needed him!!! I finally got married and moved away! My husband and I had decided to move down to Texas for about a year. But after only a couple of months, I was so homesick that Dennis flew me home to see my folks. Mom and Dad met me at the airport, took me home, and when we walked in, Winnie just looked at me, then at Mom and Dad as if to say, ummmm, what is she doing back here. Mom took me and my stuff to my old room, where the dog, very unceremoniously, relieved himself on a piece of my luggage. I guess you can tell what he thought of me.

    Winston had a very good long life, and he too, went to animal heaven.

    My marriage had ended by this time, I moved, along with my children to a mobile home park. It was a nice setting and there were animals there! Pretty soon, every time my Mom came over to visit, all the cats in the area would show up because they saw a sucker, oh, wait, I mean a kind loving animal person when they saw one. One of the cats was a long hair, black and white cat named Rudy! Rudy had figured out that if he stood on his back legs and pounded with his front paws on the metal part of my door, we’d let him in. And it worked. When I finally moved out of the mobile home, we left him there. He had belonged to another family. On one of our return trips to get more stuff out, the owners had cornered one of my kids and said, tell your mom to take Rudy home, he belongs to you now. So, we went and got a cat carrier and took him to his new house.

    Rudy loved it here except for not being able to go outside-I live on Atlantic Ave-no way!!! He was the top kitty and the only kitty for awhile. Then along came Loki, Rudy would make himself as stiff as a board for a week after Loki came. Every time I tried to pick him up, he’d just stiffen himself out. Next came Maggie, our shepherd husky, newfie mix hound! Then we rounded out the mix with Star and Baby Bella.

    Life changed again for me. I had someone move in with me. And he knew someone who had pregnant Momma kitties. Along came Shadow and Tigger. Last but not least in the kitty brigade came Lucky Bear who my kids rescued.

    But wait, then there’s Litha-lab pit bull boxer mix! I live in a zoo!

    The really interesting thing about being a psychic medium is even though some of these animals have passed on, they haven’t left us!

    Rudy will sit in the middle of the living room and I forget he’s Rudy and will go to step over him. Which isn’t an issue, except when we have company and they don’t see him. Maggie will sometimes still try to herd everyone in the same room even though she is in spirit.

    Animals like people, stay within the confines of what was familiar to them in life. We live with our live pets, but also the ones that have passed on. Many times now, we see Litha turn her head a certain way like she is listening to something. We can see Maggie trying to tell her the “right” way to do things.

    Rudy likes to tell his young friend, Shadow, how to do things too. Rudy will many times look at me as if to say-kids!!!! :)

    I could go on forever talking about my 4 legged friends that I hold so dear, both in this life as well as the life beyond.

    Always treat animals with respect and love. And what they will give back to you will be 100 fold!

    Till next time.