“Alice:How long is forever? White Rabbit:Sometimes, just one second.
Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

rose-father-s-birthday

Today, February 17 is the Visionary’s birthday. . . .its the eighth year we have had it without him. 

and “how long is forever?” asked Alice. . . “sometimes it feels like a life time,” said I. 

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a breakfast out to celebrate

bumping into people I know

a photo sent to me just because

a big day today for the youngest and plans coming through

crisp mornings

phone calls telling me he’s almost back

purring kitty – always sweet

a girl who takes time to show how much she cares

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their Grandfather

I know there is a lot wrong with this picture, but, it IS my favorite photo of the week.  This simple snap shot is a photo of great love and admiration for a man they call Grandpa.  It was taken right after a memorial Mass marking the third anniversary of their grandfather’s death.

I think the greatest legacy their grandfather left behind is the time he gave to people. He would just sit and listen. Even though we often joke and say “he couldn’t hear what you were saying“; he sat there and freely gave his time and love when he had so many other things to do.

So last Sunday – September 30 – three years to the day he died, the grandchildren show their love and admiration once again, by giving there time back to the man who knew time is only temporary but love lasts forever.

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Fabulous Photo Friday
:: Favorite Photo
Friday
:: Photo Friday :: Weekly photo show and tell

the Wand & the Hands that created it

Stevie Wonder’s it again.

 
He bought himself a lathe a few weeks ago: with a little carving here and there the things he is creating with it are simply. . . magical.  If your a Harry Potter fan you may recognize this wand. It’s Luna Lovegood’s.
 
This son of mine continue to amaze me as I mull over that age old Nature Nurture question. These things just seem to come naturally to him.  I think this gift he possess is in his blood.  
 
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 In the Studio :: Unknown Mami Sunday’s in My City

Celebrations & Memories

 Friday, February 17,  we celebrated our Father’s life with a Mass in his memory

Even though he is no longer with us there was much to celebrate on that fine day that was his birthday. You see, everywhere we go there is a little piece of the Wonderful Willy we use to know.                                                     AND that touches us more then we could ever say.  



I took this picture last summer. It’s the cross on top of Boston College High School that he and several other boys had a hand in making many, many years ago. Rumor has it, his name, along with the others,  is engraved on the back of this beautiful cross that reaches towards Heaven.  It seems appropriated to me to share this with you today as we celebrate the memory and life of a father and man  we all so dearly love. 

Until Next time. . .  

Lisa


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the foolish Window

There once was a grand, but lonely window that needed a home. Even though, this lonely window was stunning and strong, like most things it could not stand alone. This made the window sad . . . all it wanted to do was simply brighten a room and have a place to call home. 


Because the window was so grand it could not be in just any room. The room had to be an epic, strong room to support the weight of the window.  


Now you see, the window was foolish and just couldn’t understand why he of all windows, couldn’t just be a window and let the sun shine through. After all he was big, strong, and a glorious window in size, all by  himself. 

Why would he, of all windows, be left in a dark, dusty room? 



But a wiser man, known as the Visionary, knew that nothing could stand alone. The Visionary knew, everything worth something needed support.  This wise but simple lesson the Visionary not only lived, he taught his whole life through


So the window waited. . . in a dark, dreary and dusty cell like room. 


                      
  And it waited, 

                                               and it waited, 

                                                                                               and it waited. 

Until one day the Visionary‘s son and his wife had a dream to remodel their home. In this special dream, the pair wanted the window to have a special place of his own. For they too thought the window was grand.  This made the window very happy. He wanted to move in right away. 

But, he couldn’t. 


Everyone but the window knew these things take time. 



First of all: a window like this needed a large frame and strong walls for support. But, before frames and walls could be built, all dreams have to dreamed. Then of course, those dreams have to be formed into plans. Plans have to be drafted and drafted and drafted again. And this, much to the window’s disappointment, would take a very, very long time. 



One day, as the Visionary was growing weak, his son , the Craftsman, went to his father and told his father all about about this grand and lovely window. The son told his father he wanted the window to live with him and where he had dreamed the window would be. 


Now the story goes, before the visionary closed his eyes and bid farewell, he set right to work and he gave as only he could give ~  by: teaching, listening and dreaming the dreams of other dreamers. And most importantly, for the window, the son, and that moment in time, the Visionary did what he always did ~ he carefully and most lovingly, placed all those dreams onto paper.  . . so the dreams of all the dreamers could become reality through the hands of his first born son, “the Craftsman


And though it took time. . . the window grew impatient. He wanted what he wanted ~ and he wanted it all to be done right away. Sadly, the Window didn’t know the Visionary had gone. 

So for a moment, more time stood still. 


Until the Craftsman picked up the plans  again that his father had so lovingly and carefully drawn. With a heavy heart, the son decided he must carry on. 


Even though the Visionary had gone, his spirit remains close by. This we know is true, because, the Visionary’s first born son was wise, like his father.  He knew better then the window. The Craftsman knew, from the lessons of his father, the foolish window must have a strong foundation, good support and the perfect plan to stand strong.  

There was so, so much to do.  To the window, the work seemed to last forever.

and then . . .at long last! 


The young, strong, proud walls ~ the old, wise, steady bricks from the mill, now stood ready to support the foolish, impatient but lovely window. 


Even though the house was not finished, the window rejoiced ~ for he was finally out of that dark and dreary room.  The window had a place to shine.     A place to finally call home. 

Once again. . . Not the End


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Because you Need to Know

Did you know November is Lung Cancer awareness month? 


All over the country there will be fundraisers to raise much needed monies for Lung Cancer research. November 12, 2011, was the Caine Halter Lungs4life 5K  run  in Greenville, S.C..  It’s a great little run.  If you live in Greenville and went down to support Lungs4life, We would like to thank you. If you don’t live in the area and you find there is a Lung Cancer 5K or a one mile fun run that supports lung cancer research ~  please help by signing up for  this race.  You may think it does not matter, but surprisingly patients of Lung Cancer  and those who have lost loved ones to Lung Cancer need you to be there to hold them up and to keep them strong. Most of all, Lung cancer research needs your money to find a cure. 

Don’t worry about being in shape or even being a runner to do this fund raiser. ~ The thing you need most is a loving heart.~  



Surprisingly, Lung Cancer does not get the support it deserves. You don’t have to be a smoker to get lung cancer. 

 Lung Cancer is out there and it is a killer.



People that shouldn’t even have Lung Cancer die from Lung Cancer everyday . Did you know: Lung cancer remains the leading cancer killer in men and women in the Uniting States among every ethnic group, yet still receives the fewest research dollars. Lung cancer causes 1 in every 3 cancer deaths and took 156,940 lives in 2010.

Let me repeat that. . . Lung Cancer Kills more people in the United States then any other cancer. . . and receives the fewest dollars.


 I wonder. . . how could that be? 

Is it because smoking and Lung Cancer have a stigma?

 It shouldn’t.

Did you know ~ Over 60% of new lung cancer cases are never smokers or former smokers, many of whom quit decades ago. One in five women and one in twelve men diagnosed with lung cancer have never smoked. 

Never smoked! 

These are hard the facts: 

Lung Cancer is the Leading Cause of Cancer Death in Women and Men


We know these hard, cold fact personally.  Lung Cancer hit our family like a fright train six years ago.  Lung Cancer killed our father. Lung Cancer killed my mothers husband of 56 years. Lung Cancer changed our lives. Lung Cancer burned a whole in our hearts.  

My father never smoked. He never lived with smokers. He exercise everyday of his life. He even exercised  in bed when he couldn’t get up anymore because the lung cancer took over his body.


 Don’t think just because you live a healthy life style you won’t be affected. Lung Cancer doesn’t care. Anyone can get lung cancer. 

So as I said before, if you hear about a Lung Cancer run this month. . .get out and support. It really doesn’t matter if your a runner or not.  We just need you! 

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Once upon a time

This may look like a big pile of rubble to you. But, to us it’s history. . . it’s our past. It times Margaret, our mother and I shared with our dad. 

Our father was a visionary. He was able to see beauty and opportunity in everything. . .  Even a big pile of bricks.



Once upon a time, many years ago, there was a old abandon mill that fell down. There was no hope for this big pile of devastation ~ until one day our father drove by and saw art laying in the rubble. He saw hand made bricks that could be used again. If only he had someone to pick them up, clean them off, and  get them to a new home. 


Never really seeing a problem, our father knew he could always count on the woman in his life to figure out these minor details.  So, one Sunday afternoon, after Mass, our father convinced our mother and two of his little girls to go out for a Sunday drive to see a mill that fell down.  It just so happened that the owner of this mill didn’t mind if . . .someone picked up the bricks and cleaned up the area just a little bit.  


And that someone you see just happened to be. . . me, my mother and sister. . .that’s three. 


So Margaret, our mother and I set to work with our father by our side. We piled, cleaned and scraped bricks. Two little girls, a devoted wife and the visionary moved, one by one, well over 10,000 bricks to a new home in the country.  


Through out the years the bricks were used many times. 



Once there was a devastating fire in our childhood home. The bricks were used to rebuild, remodel and repair to make the house “better then ever“.  There were so many bricks not all of them could be used at that time . . . So they waited. . . until at long last. . . the visionaries son used them on his own home many, many years later. 

NOT 
the END


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Favorite Photo Friday

Our Father’s Hands

Our mother has always said, ” Bill  was born with a hammer in his hand.”  He has always had a love for building.  Because of our father’s construction business this natural talent Bill showed could be nurtured. As the years past it came to be ~ our father would design and our brother’s would build his creations.  George worked on everything electrical and Bill would handle the building and craft work. 

As Bill grow older he truly became our father’s hands. 

It has come to pass in this bitter sweet moment of time our father’s last creation is being made reality now that Bill has decided to remodel his own home. . .

AND

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ABC Wednesday


A Lesson in Friendship

It seems strange to me I’m just getting around to posting again after letting another two weeks go by.  Things are settling down around here but, I guess sometimes things like these just take a while. 
So the short story today is: I heart faces is holding another photo contest. The theme for this contest is Friendship.  As we all know, friendship comes in all sizes, shapes and colors. You just never know where you’ll find it. 



 When I think of friendship, I can’t help but think of Tommy. He’s the hippy on the right. The man with the bandanna around his head, holding the red cup.  Tommy is my brother George’s friend.  He has been around for. . . well. . .I guess, forever. The other guy in this photo, holding the yellow cup, is my brother George’s son. . .Little, Bigger George, as I loving call him. 

 The  one thing I always think of when I see Tommy is how genuine he is. What you see is what you get: a true, loyal friend. 

 I will never forget the action Tommy took when our father died. He cut his hair, shaved, bought himself a suit, arrived at the mortuary early, before any of us got there and waited outside for his friend George.  

Tommy told me that night. . . when I saw him standing there waiting: “I don’t want anyone of you walking in there alone tonight. Your father was better to me then my own father and I will always be grateful for that.”  In his kindness, Tommy offered to walk in with me because, Mark had gone to be with my mother. I told Tommy I would be okay, I had my kids with me and then I remember Tommy saying; “I’m just going to wait right here for George. . . so I don’t miss him and he doesn’t have to walk in alone. ” and my heart filled with love that night. . . and I’ll never forget the lesson in friendship a man named Tommy taught me without even trying the night of October 2, 2009.   

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"Take Pictures"

I know.  What can I say? She is the only one I have left that will let me take her picture over and over again.              ~  And yes. . . there is another contest. ~


This one is over at “The Paper Mama“.  The contest is called “your best shot”. This contest is being judged by some of my favorite bloggers. With these woman ~ I feel comfortable enough to give this contest a try. 



You see, I love snapping pictures.  AND. . . I am told I take a lot of pictures.  There are times I think, they might be right: I just may be taking way to many pictures and I should give it a rest.     

That’s when some of the last words my father  said to me creep into my mind:   

He whispered ~ “take pictures.”  With those words always on my mind and the sheer facts that I not only want to please him,  I really want to improve on this photography thing: I snap click. 



The only way to improve is to practice, practice, practice. Right? Oh! yeah, and have fun while your doing it too.  So here is my attempt of my “best shot” of yours truly from last week. We were just about to have a swimming lesson and she couldn’t have been happier . . . dirty face and all. 

The Paper Mama

Sunday Snapshot