Sunday, February 26, 2012

WHO ARE YOU?

As I was growing up, people in my world were identified by not who they are/were, but their link in the chain of relationships to others. My father, I wonder, if he ever wanted to hear his name and his definition. Let me explain.

My father was "Ralph the Barber's Son" for his entire life and still is! My father has acquired a few other labels: He was "Angie's Husband" (still is); and, for ever..."Laura's Father". He became "Tiffany's Grandfather", and eventually "Mommy's Grandpa" (to his great-grandchildren). He was named "Chaunce"...("Nice play, Chauncy!" by a family friend because of his tennis playing superiority). That was probably the only name that was his alone and not even the one with which he was baptized!

I have become increasingly aware that most of us are links in relationships' chains. Tiffany's Mom, Nick's Mom, Todd's grandmother, Nick's girlfriend, Tess' brother, Laura and Donna's mother, Steve's Mom and Tanner's sister. We are friends with Max's Mom, Jacob's Dad, Sharron's Mom and so it goes.

I have wiggled for years to be me! My continuous mission to be a creative free spirit could be a new Olympic Sport. I am an Artist, an Author, an Actor! I love to go to Church! I have fifty-seven shades of eye shadow in my freezer (my mother counted) and hate to buy food! You can paint, create amazing projects in my home, but I cringe at crumbs! I AM ME! ME! ME!

So, this morning at "coffee" between Sunday School (I teach second grade) and Mass, I ran into a woman whom I see around frequently. I know her by sight. (No comments on my near-sightedness!) I smiled and said, "Hi, how are you?" She replied with immediate recognition and a broad "I want to be your friend smile":

"Oh! You're the lady always with those three little children!"

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Preventative Medicine Just Might Kill You

I have heard, as have you...take care of yourself in order to: 1. take care of others, 2. promote a fabulous quality of a long lifekeep the economy thriving (Doctors shop and eat out). Selfishly, I moved #2 to NUMBER ONE...I want to live to be at least 104, unless I do find that fountain of youth...then 104 is negotiable UP and HIGHER). I did push number 1 to 2...I do like to be able to be a "cool, active" grandmother with the three little snits with which my daughter has blessed me. I boast about being a good American, so pump economy pump! (#3)
I decided to inhale the HEALTHY party line and in one day:

I had my annual physical where my general physician did a book review of PROJECT REUNION. After talking about his review of the box set of SOPRANOS (yes, he saw me) we got around to...great shape for my age, and so on...oh, but "Here's a prescription for Lipitor ($134 monthly, don't let the advertisements about the $4 plan fool you...NO ONE IS ELIGIBLE); here's a prescription for a shingle shot ($224...no, Anthem DOES NOT COVER IT); here's a referral for a dermotologist (just keep an eye on that...) and so on. Have Dr. A send me results of THE annual exam, dexascan, mammogram. Have Dr. P send me the report about your microscopic "cyst" on your forehead."

From there, I went to the next exam to only reaffirm my feminity, "Here's a prescription for Boniva ( $125 monthly), take D and Calcium, here's the prescription for a Bone scan, here's the prescription for the mammogram... and my wife loves your book. We may go to her next reunion!"

Slightly fatigued, the radiologist squished me, told me about her Dad and his lawn (it's winter), scanned bones and moved me out of there..."next!"

After an eye exam, my eyes were so dialated that I couldn't see too well to get to the shingle shot. With eyes closed (driving a challege) I cried and stumbled to the nice man in a lab coat who enhanced the size of my left arm...red is nice, I guess and large red..It's February...I guess red is okay and after all...we shot out the possibility of Shingles.

With sore EVERYWHERE, hurting, running eyes, sore unmentionable parts, I staggered into the Dermotologist's office. I heard the praises of Good Health and how wonderful to get EVERYTHING DONE IN ONE FELL SWOOP, and so on. I left limping with a bandages leg, bandages on my face forehead, cheek, as if I lost the last campaign of WWIII! I have a foot locker in tow full of instructions, medicine, bandages, etc. I was only there for a "look see"...ah-ha!

I look terrible (is that health?), I feel terrible (is that health?), I am soooooo tired (yep...healthy quality of life) and I really have to hurry because...the dentist is waiting for me!

Friday, February 3, 2012

NOT YOUR MAMA'S GRANDMA HERE!

I love my Grandmother! Anyone who has ever met me knows that I have loved/love her forever and forever so deeply! I called Lucy, "Nana". From Italy, she and her family migrated to the United States via a boat to Ellis Island. Steve, when the renovations of Ellis Island were being done, was one of the first contributors and honored my Grandparents (Lucy and Louis) on the wall. I have the certificates and still become weepy as I run my finger over their names. Nana was a lady at all times. Oh, she had a clever sense of humor, was clever, glib, cunning (descriptions of some things in PROJECT REUNION) yet gentle. I remember an Italian lullabye that she would sing softly to my sister and before that, though I can't remember infancy...me! She loved her family fiercely first and foremost. A cook, a seamstress, wiz in mental math (I swear her brain was the forerunner of a calculator), details (predecessor of the computer), rational, yet sensitive. Nana taught me how to knit. I still have the little stool on which I would sit at her rocking chair as I would knit and purl. She taught my mom and me how to sew. A fabulous cook, she made the kitchen fun and adventurous! I remember her radio near the rocking chair and the prayer book that sat on the same table. Nana took me to Church...we'd walk the city streets to Mass (St. Mary's, or St. Paul's) on Sundays, to St. Jude's for Thursday Novenas, to Quackenbush's for lunch and ice cream to match my dress! (That's where I learned that I don't like Strawberry Ice Cream!) "Dolly Dear", as she would call me, never did anything wrong in her eyes. I can still hear, "Oh, Dolly Dear, Ladies don't...." and "Dolly Dear, Ladies do..." I am here to tell you that Ladies don't do more than they do!
Her house was a cozy, warm, safe haven. She listened to me until she probably just couldn't hear anymore! She was calm, intelligent and after an entire dissertation of my day (especially as a teenager), she would just say, "Okay, it'll pass. Why do you worry?" You know...it always was okay and over before I could stress and whine any more! As an adult, she was my best Fan and Art Critic. She shared every moment of my pursuits! If I am still, I can hear her voice. If I just sip my afternoon tea (we always had afternoon tea, even after I was an adult and teaching) and if I am quiet, I can hear her giggle. Sometimes, I can actually hear her gentle laugh and see a tear as she picks up her rimless glasses to wipe because something was just too funny! I can feel her arms around me and just wait...I still have her scent. She wore Chantilly and the inside of her purse always smelled like peppermint Chicklets. When I am before my sewing machine, with a project that is just so way beyond me, I hold my hands, palm up, to heaven. I look up and say, "Hey, Nan...please help me...can we do this together?" My hands then just fly and the item is flawless! When she died, I was beside myself! I thought, that last night, in the hospital, that if I could hold her and pull her to me, she wouldn't slip away. I wanted to embrace her as she had done me through my life. I prayed, "Dear God, just give me the strength to pull her back...help me pull, pull, pull!!!" I was so angry that God made my grip slip! How dare He take her!!! The funeral was attended by an emormous number of people. Once, I heard that to have a large turnout, one has to die young. Not so for Nana. Anyone that had ever met her, and anyone who knew my family, or that, to be honest, I dated or friended came to pay their respects to Nana. When asked what my friends (girl or boy) should call her, she would reply, "Oh, call me Nana!"

Time has passed, as it always does...

My daughter has three children. After the birth of the first, we deliberated...what to call me! One thing for sure..."Grandma" is SO NOT ME! Always on the move for the Fountain of Youth, egomaniac, etc..."Grandma" would be counter productive for this free spirit. "Nana" was out because, my Mom is my daughter's Nana. The trio calls her Nana and it just works so well. Mimi, Mawmaw, or whatever the Mid-West (no insults intended) idioms are just are not characteristic of this "Contessa" as my in-laws would occasionally use as reference for me. (I kind of liked that). So, my daughter and I came up with the familiar French (her passion)...Meme (pronounced may-may). PERFECT! I rocked the trio as infants to the French rendition of "You Are My Sunshine", "Ragtime Cowboy Joe" and "By The Sea". In the car, we dance YMCA and they know all of the words to "Purple People Eater" and "The Witchdoctor". We've been known to "Doo Wah Diddy Diddy Dum Diddy Do" down the road too! We went to Art Classes at the Museum! We go to rodeos (I love cowboys), Barney concerts, Ice shows, CIRCUS!!! We sing along, dance in the aisles. They know their ways around cameras and television studios. Portable DVD players, snacks, the Station Manager as a sitter in the Green Room while Meme is on the set of whatever is the "hot topic" of the time. They have attended writing sessions (screenplays) and appeared as "The Darling Children" in my weekly show, DARLA DARLING, THE DOMESTIC DIVA. They were involved when NBC - Dateline came to my home to tape me in my "normal, everyday" environment...(at least Tanner removed the skates and lampshade). They have modeled, performed and have gotten involved because I know then exactly where they are at all times...WITH THEIR GRANDMOTHER! They are no strangers to the workshops that Tiff and I teach...mine about auditioning, hers about modeling. We usually travel with a news cameraman and a broadcaster to round out the workshop...Todd, Tess, Tanner know what the Floor Director is motioning, know hand signals, time restraints, which way to move, "back to one" and what to say when and where! We take turns to answer the door and pay the Pizza Man! We are experts at Water Parks, Vacations, BlueFoot Pirate Cruises, JellyStone Park, you name it...we're OUT THERE! We have fun, we laugh out loud, we "dance like no one is looking"! We fly to New York for a show, we drive to Kentucky to visit GUNTOWN Mountain. Tanner can "one a, two a," like the gunslingers there! We (Tiff and I with the trio)travel together like pros, rolling our suitcases and hanging "Home Sweet Home" signs at hotels (only ones with indoor pools, gyms, etc).

I did teach Tess to sew on the machine. Todd and Tanner have made really wonderful projects. She dances, they all play tennis and golf. Of course, we attend Sunday School and St. Albert's for Mass. Some things are so deeply instilled, that they will never fade or vanish.

My recollections of Chantilly and mauve, I hold closely, tightly. Will their recollections of me be of The Village People, Green Rooms, Darla Darling shows, Meme's book and bright pink/ magenta? Their Grandmother is unique, busy, different,an artist, actor, author who has taken the entire family along for the ride. If my Grandmother's home was a calm cacoon, is their Grandmother's home an amusement park of thrills, spills? I wonder...

I wonder. So, Nana, when I snuggle with the trio and we read, or talk, or plan, could you fill me with your spirit? When Tess and I sit down behind the sewing maching, could you please, Nan, ride shotgun? When the boys want to make something special for their Mom, could you please Nan help me (there are two of them you know)?

Nana, you are my idol, you were the best! I am blessed and cursed by this "Free Spirit"...I'm just NOT YOUR MAMA'S GRANDMA, but, I'm Lucy's Granddaughter and she told me: "Dolly Dear! Meme doesn't do anything wrong!"