A Hug of Grace

I grew up around my Greek grandma, my yiayia, who loved to give triple kisses. She would lean down, grab my head, turn my cheek to her lips and fire off three rocket-like kisses in a row. Then she’d mutter something sweet in her native Greek language and you knew you were really something special.

When I went to Greece, everyone there kissed you on both cheeks, whether they knew you or not. Usually they added a hug as well. No wonder the Greeks are known for their warm hospitality.

In this age of social media and detached conversations, I wonder if people are still touching, still hugging and kissing? And I mean in a friendly, I LOVE YOU, kind of way.

Beautiful Babies
Beautiful Babies

Last week, I read a story and saw a picture on the internet (which actually turned out to be from 1995) that almost stopped my heart. It was an image of two very small twins and one had her arm around the other. Apparently the one twin had not been doing well and a nurse fought to put the other twin in the incubator with the ailing one. When placed together, the one stronger twin swung her arm over the other more fragile one. The fragile baby stabilized and lived. I think this speaks volumes about the power of touch. Touch has the power to heal, to say I care about you, or even to say I’m with you on this.

These days, touching can be greatly misconstrued. It is a sad state of affairs sometimes when it’s done for the wrong reasons or when it gets out of hand. But I still believe in a warm embrace, a loving hug, a kiss bestowed as a valentine. I believe that we as humans crave touch, yearn for closeness and wish for connection. Hugs and kisses are an expression of our innate yearning to bond with our fellow human beings.

My husband Jim and I are cuddlers. Even now, while I’m still on the last edges of menopause, I lean against him in bed or touch my hot feet to his cool ones! Thankfully, he is a hugger and loves to snuggle.

Recently, Jim needed a small surgery on his knee. It was outpatient surgery and I hung out in the waiting room until they told me I could go sit with him. He was very groggy from the anesthesia so I didn’t say much. I sat down on the chair next to his bed and softly laid my hand on top of his. Sitting patiently, I waited for him to come around. I knew just touching his hand spoke volumes and words were not really necessary.

A touch, sometimes, is all it really takes.

Thanks to WordPress, for giving me an opportunity to show off one of my favorite posts!

Abundance…In True Anne Lamott Style

One of my favorite writers is Anne Lamott. You’ve probably heard of her or might be a fan of hers already. She has written a number of faith based books (Traveling Mercies) and some fiction novels as well. Her latest book is entitled “Some Assembly Required” and it is a beautiful journal of her grandson’s first year of life.

The first thing I loved about this book was Anne’s decision to be called “Nana” by her grandson. (My grandson calls me Nana too!) She “journals” her way through her fears about everything from her son and his girlfriend’s relationship, to the baby’s birth and early development. She calls close friends when she is losing it and always comes back to faith and humility by letting everyone live their own life. She is such an inspiration.

Here’s one of my favorite stories from the book:

(Anne says) “I have a new perspective on spiritual abundance, thanks to my friend Michelle, who told me about going to Starbucks the other day for a pecan sticky bun. She normally doesn’t order pastry at Starbucks, because it’s fattening, but the other day she decided to treat herself to a pecan sticky bun. She spent quite a lot of time picking out the exact one she wanted, which meant the one with the most pecans. She pointed it out to the counter person. He had to move a few others that were in the way, so she took her coffee and sat down.

He brought the sticky bun over, all wrapped up and on a plate. She started taking it out of the paper, and instantly saw that it was the wrong bun, not the one she had chosen. This one had only three pecans on top. She wrapped it back up and walked to the counter, where she pointed this out to the young man, with crisp annoyance. He looked at her incredulously. “Lady,” he said, “turn it over”.

And on the other side, the bun was tiled with candied pecans.”

I just loved this story. How many times have I had an attitude about something which turns out to be abundance in disguise? If we’d all remember to count our blessings, what a pecan studded world this would be!

So, if you’re looking to read with abundance this weekend, pick up a copy of  Some Assembly Required!

Inspired Expression

I saw a beautiful community mural on the side of a brick building last weekend. It was on the Southside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I couldn’t help myself and walked over to it for a closer look. The colors were what really drew me in.

I have been thinking about the artists who painted such a work of color. Wondered from where they drew their inspiration. My guess is, it was from deep down, in their heart and soul. Perhaps they love color, just like me, and perhaps they love their city. Together those feelings would come together in such a divine way. To have a passion for something that manifests itself in such an expression is truly an inspired gift.

I believe that inside of us all there exists a creative voice. Whether it presents itself through earthy pottery, magnificent culinary creations, delicious baked goods, nature inspired gardens or a comfortable home, it’s there, given to us by divine grace. If we trust the voice and listen, it will be a source of inspired expression. It will fill us with a sense of well being and peace.

For a long time, I worked, focused and lost myself in the day to day grind of things. My poor creative voice must have thought it lost me forever. It feels good to take time and write my Katherine’s Daughter stories. Writing is my divinely inspired expression.

How do you yield to your creative voice? What form does it take? Do you make time for it? Leave a comment and tell us about it!

A God Nudge

A few days ago I emailed my friend Nancy. I thought she was participating in an event I’m attending this weekend. She emailed me back…. she didn’t know a thing about it. So I called Amy (on my lunch hour) who I thought had given Nancy’s phone number to the coordinator of the event. When I spoke with Amy, she too thought Nancy had been contacted.

I said to Amy, What do I need to do? Is this my responsibility? Amy said No, it is not. She said, Text me Nancy’s number again and I’ll call the coordinator. She can take it from there. I said to Amy (after a bit of hesitation), Maybe this is a God Nudge.

A God Nudge is when you get a hint that something needs your attention. God is letting you in on something, a clue so to speak, so that you end up feeling like a sort of spiritual secret agent.

I have come to accept that if I am supposed to know about something, God will somehow see to it that I am clued in. If I worry about whether or not I have the whole story on any given situation or if I think I am missing valuable information, this is really not my concern. If I’m supposed to know, I’ll be informed. Then, I can decide how to react, without making a big fuss or blaring any horns.

One of the biggest God Nudges I’ve ever had occurred while I was in Patmos, Greece a few years ago. Patmos is a place of outstanding beauty, a Jewel of the Mediterranean and I was there.

Perfect Patmos

We were on vacation, my sisters, my mom and I for two weeks. Patmos was one of our stopovers for four days. It was perfect weather, perfect food, perfect everything. While I was there, I had an overwhelming urge to write. The feeling was so powerful, I started a journal of our trip.

When I came home I wrote a small book and had it bound with a hard cover. I called it “Patmos Memories” and I gave it to my mom for Christmas that year. She loved it. I still pick it up when I’m at her house and read it over again. It was really my writing debut of sorts.

When I think of that time in Patmos, I realize God was nudging me to write. Maybe that is why I feel so comfortable sharing my thoughts and passing stories along. I think that you and I are divine friends, destined to be together and to pass along some Grace and Love.

In the earlier case involving Nancy, I alerted someone to the issue and let it go. Hopefully, I acted as a conduit of some sort. We’ll see. Thank You God, for the nudge!

Another Pretty Patmos Picture!

Writing, Faith….and Chocolate Truffles

I took the brave step this past weekend of creating a Facebook page to go with my Katherine’s Daughter blog. Now I will admit, I am a fan of technology but not a brave one. I hesitantly step along (almost as if I am walking through a lawn laced with dog poo) tap tap tapping on my new fancy cell phone, adding clever things to my blog (note the Goodreads section), occasionally tweeting and all the while doubting whether I am doing things right or not.

Note: I have to blame my weekend Facebook/Blog adventure on my sister Mary. She encourages me, so believes in me (Cally too, but Mary is a real motivator!), that sometimes when I talk to her, I think I am Superwoman.

So Saturday morning, with coffee cup in hand, I began to create the Facebook page. Within a half hour, I became instantly overwhelmed. I wondered if I did it wrong, wondered if I should be doing it at all, blah blah blah, Good Lord, what am I possibly thinking!! Jim, sensing my oncoming headache, offered to take me out to lunch. I said yes. Thank goodness, for Anthony’s Coal-Fired Pizza and those delicious wings.

When I returned, I bravely checked my Facebook page. To my amazement, my friends were slowly starting to LIKE me (thank you!!). Just like Sally Field, they LIKED ME! I am feeling much better now and, thankfully, not so overwhelmed. Also, my daughter’s paramour gave her a delicious box of chocolate truffles that I must admit, seem to smooth out all those rough edges of worry and moments of insanity.

The Yummy Truffles!

If you are wondering why I am doing all this- the blog, the writing, the Facebook- I will tell you this…I am really not sure. All I am sure of is… I am following my dream of writing to you. I want to share my thoughts, inspire and walk hand in hand with you while we both look for the Grace and Love that is present in our everyday life. It’s here and I can feel it.

That said, I am not good at self promotion. You will not see me pushing you to read, share or even comment on my blog posts or Facebook page. That is up to you. If you decide to do those things, I admit they are meaningful to me because it means I have touched a cord within you.

I’m just going to have Faith that I am going in the right direction. I will keep going, one day at a time….and…. I’m taking a few of those truffles with me! Thanks for walking along and being a part of it all!

The Graces of Sisterhood

Graces

1.Greek & Roman Mythology Three sister goddesses, known in Greek mythology as Aglaia, Euphrosyne, and Thalia, who dispense charm and beauty.

2. Divine love and protection bestowed freely on people.

3.The state of being protected or sanctified by the favor of God.

4. An excellence or power granted by God.

 I have been wanting to write about my two sisters for some time now. There are those ideas, as I’m sure other writers will attest to, that are just challenging to put into words. But here and now I’m going to try and describe the feelings I have for my two sisters.

L to R, Joanne, Mary, Cally

First, just bit of background. Mary is two years younger than me. When we were growing up, she and I played Batman together, rode Schwinn bikes together, fought and protected each other. Today she is an entrepreneurial, forward thinking, loving woman who makes time for anyone and any good mission or project. Cally is four years younger than me. I remember her as a child, but just barely. I am sure I protected her, watched over her, as my father often reminded me of my caretaker and role model responsibilities. Cally is soft and quiet but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t step up to the plate. She is quite the leader, eloquent writer and artistic creator.

I think the three of us are a blend of my father’s outstanding leadership qualities and our mother’s (Katherine) wisdom, strength and great Grecian- inherited event planning skills. How very lucky we are to have been so blessed!

It was not until the three of us left for college that I felt how really close we were. Though separated by distance, we would come together at holidays and on special occasions. As we got older, we shared our life experiences, our trials and tribulations of growing up. We have not agreed upon everything but we respect and support each other. I think we make a great team, bouncing ideas off each other and managing some good retail therapy when we have a chance to be together.

There is no denying that now, the relationship between us is very strong. I found a quote by Susan Ripps in which she says “There is no outsider anywhere who wouldn’t appreciate and even envy the tremendous advantage that sisters have, if properly utilized, against all odds”. How true!

At the Base of the Acropolis!

God must certainly have Grace in mind when he creates sisters.  Divine love, the state of being protected, and power to support, love and care for each other. When I found the definition of Graces in Wikipedia (in my opening), somehow it was just perfect for describing my relationship to my sisters.

Do you have a sister? Whether she is blood related or not, sisterly bonds can last forever. I can think of several people who I feel special enough about to call them sisters. Tell me in comments below what your sister(s) mean to you. I’d love to hear about it!

A Spiritual Connectedness

Creation of Adam, hands in detail
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

When I lost my dear nephew a few weeks ago, I had a dream the following week. My father, who passed away 14 or so years ago, was in my dream. He was so close to me, close enough for me to see his face. He reached his hand out and touched me. I woke up, startled. Then a calmness came over me. I felt reassurance. This to me was a sign, a sign to let me know that everything was all right. My nephew was in a peaceful place.

Once, I was sitting next to a co worker at lunch. We were discussing the latest event we had planned together and I said to her, Have those table linens been picked up yet? Just then, the delivery guy came to the door and announced he was there to pick up the linens.

I am a spiritual being living a human life. When I can be quiet and listen to my inner voice, chances are I will hear something really interesting. If a situation begins to unfold in which I feel like I might be in the right place at the right time, I try and ride with it. Sometimes, it’s a little unbelievable.

I think you know the kind of situations I’m talking about. You think of someone, the phone rings and it’s them. Maybe there’s a desperate situation of some sort and someone just happens to show up who takes care of things. Sometimes I’ve been the one to show up; sometimes it is someone else. I think the scary part is the powerlessness of it. We are not in charge of the universe. God has a plan for us but we are not on the planning committee. That can be disarming. But, it can also be an exhilarating experience to go through the day, waiting for the next miracle to unfold.

Each day is a gift. Let’s untie the ribbon…

God Between the Clouds

There was a time when I was afraid of storms. As a little girl, I remember hiding my head under the covers whenever lighting and thunder would strike. I remember telling my kids when they were little that, during storms, God was bowling, just so they wouldn’t be afraid.

Last night, after a whole day in the Pittsburgh suburbs of sun and clouds and clouds and sun, the clouds finally won out. Around 6:30pm, it started to storm. I was meeting some friends at 7:15 and took Route 30 just when the sun was going down and the clouds were letting up.

The sky was so stunning I couldn’t help but stop at a small church and take pictures from the parking lot. Hope you enjoy the shots as much as I did.

Happy Birthday to “The Gavinator”!

My grandson Gavin is one of the biggest blessings in my life. As I write this, he is on the eve of his eleventh birthday, growing out of all of his clothes at record speed. He teeters on the border between being a little kid and becoming an adolescent. He wants to be a grown up but he’s just not there yet. Sometimes he’s so good at arguing his point I think he’d make a great lawyer.

The fact that he is here at all is quite a miracle. My daughter is 29 years old as of this moment. If you do the math that would make her, yep, 18 years old at the time of his birth.

It was a big trauma initially when my daughter told me she was pregnant. I am the oldest of my sisters and female cousins and I was worried about the effect this would have on the family. I said something to my cousin Angie one time about it and she said “You showed us how to handle it”. I don’t know what I was worried about. Everyone was supportive. Thank goodness for open and loving families.

Gavin has taught us many lessons. When he was two or so, he stopped calling my husband “PAP” and started calling him Jim. He still calls him Jim. (He calls me Nana) When he was three, he overheard Jim being impatient and short with me. Gavin stopped him and said, “Jim you were not talking to Nana very nice. I think you need to say you’re sorry.” So in front of Gavin, Jim came to me and said he was sorry.

Jim calls Gavin “the Gavinator” I think because he is a powerhouse. He’s all boy. He likes to ride motorbikes, zoom on a skateboard, catch a fish. Jim loves to show Gavin how to fix mechanical things, take care of the chickens, tell a good joke. The men on my husband’s side of the family have a weird sense of humor and thankfully Gavin knows how to play along.

Gavin told me one day that Jim told him how we came to be together. In a stern voice I said to Gavin, “Tell me what Jim told you.” He said (with a grin) “Nana, you were washing your face by the side of the road one day. Jim was driving by. He stopped and said Come with me and you’ll never have to wash your face in cold water again. So you went with him and he bought you an ax to chop wood.”

I said GAVIN, DO NOT LISTEN TO JIM!!

I have a magnet on my refrigerator that says: Grandchildren are God’s reward for not killing your children. I laugh when I read this but truly, Gavin is a big reward for hanging in there through some tough times. He is for us, I believe, the opportunity to try again, to do better, to be given another chance. And my daughter? Last year she received her bachelor’s degree. When God gives us a chance to swell up our heart, we should take it. Who knows what it will bring?

The Power of a Journey

I love a good lump in your throat kind of movie. You know the kind I mean. When you begin to watch it, you just know something sweet is going to unfold. Maybe a good lesson on faith, love or forgiveness.

Cover of "Field of Dreams (Widescreen Two...
Cover via Amazon

There are a few movies that inspire and give me that lump in my throat. They are the movies I can watch over and over and never tire of. Field of Dreams is one of them. In it, Kevin Costner embarks upon a journey of self discovery. Through the building of his cornfield ball park, meeting and finding old baseball pros, he finally sees the purpose of it all when his young father turns around at home base. The golden nugget is the chance, the opportunity to heal his troubled relationship with his father.

Last night, I went to see Salmon Fishing in the Yemen. Lest you are thinking about reading no further, hear me out. I absolutely loved it.

I remember seeing trailers for SFITY, twisting up my face and wondering what the heck is someone thinking? A movie on salmon fishing??? Then a few days ago, I read a positive review of the movie, intriguing me enough to make me want to go.

So go I did and wow, was I impressed. I also realized what a grown up I have become because even though this movie has gorgeous characters, a lusty love plot, unbelievable scenery (it’s the Yemen!), and lots of gutsy acting (Kristen Scott Thomas), I was so caught up in the MESSAGE.

The local Sheik wants to bring salmon fishing to the Yemen. Everyone, including the expert fishing pro they choose for the job, thinks he is nuts. The Sheik persists and says Do you have faith? to the expert. The expert is all about scientific research, dull boring stuff, but fishing is not about science, insists the Sheik . Fishing is about Faith, Fishing is about Patience, he says.

So the journey begins to bring water to the desert, bring the salmon to the Yemen. You wonder if they all begin to get alittle crazy with the idea but deep down, it’s faith. They start to believe in the dream. They overcome adversity several times and persist in their journey to a dream.

The lump in my throat started early in the movie. I know that happens when I can feel a spiritual experience coming on. I love the Sheik; he is full of wisdom, calm and grace. He shows us all the power of the journey, the walk towards enlightenment. I have a feeling that this movie will be one of those that I will want to watch over and over again.

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