The Beautiful People

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.”
― Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

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My friend Amy has been through the wringer and back. She is currently recuperating from shoulder surgery and is laid up for at least six weeks.

I’ve written about Amy before. She has three grandchildren already (at age 55) and two of them are to her daughter Mandy, who passed away suddenly three years ago.

What do you do when someone close to you loses someone very dear? I’ll tell you what I used to do. Uncomfortable with my own feelings, I would go to the funeral home, make polite sympathies and leave. Then months would go by before I would say “How are you?” to the friend or family person, lacing my greeting with an apology for not being in touch sooner.

I was never comfortable around sick, dying, or ill people. Preferring the land of the living and healthy, it never occurred to me to look deeper into someone’s heart and soul. To align myself with how they might be feeling. To have EMPATHY instead of detachment.

When my mom was in the hospital, I made an effort to smile at strangers all day. I struck up conversations with people in elevators and the cafeteria line. I would glance into rooms and smile at the recovering people inside. I wanted to bring a smidgen of joy to someone’s day…including my own by connecting with others in a similar situation.

I had an idea that there should be a “Smile Wagon” at the hospital. It could be manned by a very cheery person who had a “wagon” of sorts filled with all kinds of happiness stuff. Smiley stickers, mylar balloons, whoopie cushions, etc. The cart could go around, cheering up the patients and brightening their day. Especially the patients who did not have loved ones that lived close. What do you think about this idea? (Should I write to the hospital?)

Back to Amy. When she lost her daughter, I made a conscious decision to keep in touch. I worked in town and her house was 20 minutes from my work place. When she would pop into my head, I would stop by after work, usually unannounced. I trusted that God would let me know when she might be need a sympathetic ear. Once, after she had back surgery (only within a year or two after Mandy had passed), I laid on Amy’s bed with her and we hung out for hours.

During these many times of being with Amy, I did nothing miraculous. Mostly, I just tried to listen and be there.

I was with Amy this week and I asked her about friendship and grief. She told me people fear loss as being contagious (this blew my mind) and of course, many avoided her because they just didn’t know what to say. I’ve heard of others who try and manage the life of someone with such loss, thinking that is the answer. For me, that is too much control, unless the friend really asks for such help.

My favorite author, Anne Lamott, talks about loss often in many of her faith books. I remember she has said something like All you can really do sometimes, is just show up. It is true. By just showing up, I do what hopefully God wishes of me- to just be there for those beautiful people.

Photo taken at Phipps Conservatory, Pittsburgh, PA. by my lovely daughter, Michelene.

How have you dealt with another’s loss or illness? Are you comfortable with lending an ear?

The Big Picture

I work really hard at trying to see the big picture and not getting stuck in ego. I believe we’re all put on this planet for a purpose, and we all have a different purpose. When you connect with that love and that compassion, that’s when everything unfolds. Ellen DeGeneres

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This is the last week of my job. I feel somewhat in limbo, somewhat emotionally stressed. Soon my life is going to change. Heck, it is changing already.

I have always identified myself by the work I’ve done. Whether I’ve been a business owner, events coordinator, project manager or administrative assistant, my work becomes my persona. It is an extension of me and who I am. Maybe my ego gets tied up in it. I’m sure it does.

DSC_0145Now as I go forward, I leave another job behind me. I put on a different cloak. It identifies me as caretaker to my mom. It feels good to be able to say this. I am leaving to spend time with my mom. This is enough of a purpose for now….though I have a feeling there will be more to come.

Interestingly enough, I have been thinking a lot about ego lately. Quotes have been coming into my view that cause me to think twice. This one caught my eye today- “No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money. ” (Matthew 6:24)

So true. I am leaving my job for time with my mother. I am also taking time for myself. As I grow closer to God, material things matter less. Money matters less. So far, all that I need has been provided to me. Strangely enough, I am requiring less and less to feel fulfilled. This must be the enormous gift of walking a spiritual path.

Thank you again to my daughter, Michelene for these beautiful pictures of California flowers.

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Do you feel your spiritual purpose? Tell me about it!

Spring and Renewal

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“Expect to have hope rekindled. Expect your prayers to be answered in wondrous ways. The dry seasons in life do not last. The spring rains will come again.” Sarah Ban Breathnach

Here in the Northeast USA, it is hard to tell it is Spring.

It has snowed every day this week- an amazing feat for Pittsburgh in late March. I can’t remember when it’s snowed so much, especially since the first day of spring has already passed.

I have been thinking about buds, new life and renewal. When spring arrives, we all have a chance to dust ourselves off, change up to more color and start anew. I’m feeling like a living testament to change…to spring….to new life.

DSC_0045Everything I have laid in place over the last two years is going to shift….again. My mother’s illness has been the catalyst. I am reminded of M. Scott Peck‘s ideals, documented in his famous book “The Road Less Traveled”. In it, he describes how we all have internal “maps” of where we go and what we do. Well, my “map” is about to change. I’m choosing a new path on my road of life.

Here’s the first change. I’ve put notice in at my job and am leaving in two weeks. Yes, I am trading my comfortable, secure, full time job for more time. Time I wish to spend with my mom, my family, friends and myself.

Change number two. I need some source of income so I signed up to be an independent sales consultant with a company that looks very…faithful. I am going to shamelessly self promote myself just this once. Check out www.faithco.net/joannecain to see my latest venture. (PS. That is not me at the bottom of the website!)

So whew! So much change. What inspired all this? Well, in addition to my mother’s long illness, time played a major factor in bringing me around . You have a lot of time to think when your loved one is in the hospital for an extended period. You have nothing to do but sit there, think, fill up glasses with ice water, think, watch mom sleep, think. It is life changing really; the shift that occurs in your thought process when you realize how precious, fragile and short life really is.

In all my pondering and all these precious blocks of time I’ve had lately, I’ve been wondering if God sometimes hits me over the head to get my attention. “What does it take” I imagine him saying, “to push you to your next level, to get on with it, for goodness sakes?”

Because I confess…I had been thinking for months about how to spend more time with my family and on the things I am passionate about (writing, non profit work). I had some ideas but I was holding back. I was hesitant to let go of the security within my life; a life comfortable and fulfilling, just not as deeply spiritual as I yearned it to be.

What does God have planned for me? Truly, I don’t know. My one friend likes to say, “God has a plan for us, but we are not on the planning committee.” If I am willing to turn my life over to a power greater than myself, I’m sure my purpose going forth will present itself to me.

DSC_0036Photos of “Snowdrops” by my daughter, Michelene Cain

Tell me…..Have you ever given something over completely to faith? What happened?

The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of

Photo by Joe Indovina
Photo by Joe Indovina

“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.”
Eleanor Roosevelt

What do you dream about?

I don’t mean the dreams you dream while sitting still in traffic, or the lofty ones formulated while meeting good friends for dinner. I think of those as goals or aspirations. I am talking about the dreams you dream when you fall asleep.

My dreams have really gone through cycles over the course of my life. About seven years ago, I had finally begun to feel God’s unconditional love working in my life. Where formerly I had always feared wrath and judgement, my thoughts of God had become loving, calm and reassuring.

So during this time of reassurance there were (ironically) large monsters in my dreams. They were at times, ferocious and scary. But in my dreams I was always at a safe distance. I would observe the monsters and think, Well, I probably should get out of the room. Or better yet, They cannot harm me.

The closest I ever came to reading or hearing something similar to my monster dreams was when I read a book written by a little boy entitled, “Heaven is for Real“. When I read Colton’s description of the monsters in Heaven, and of his Savior Jesus’ triumph over them, I really got a chill. His description of the monsters rivaled those in my dreams.

The monster dreams have vanished for now. Lately, my dreams consist of people and places, interactions…. and bravery. I have had a few significant acts of bravery within my dreams. When my mom was ill last month, I had a two fold dream. In it, she was in her home looking out the window of her front door. I was standing next to her. A very large and powerful truck (yep!) came and swallowed her up. I briefly panicked. In the next moment, she was next to me again, we were both looking out the window and the truck was in the driveway, idling. Mom and I stood together and stared it down. It did not harm her again.

I took this to be another sign that mom would recover. Her illness had temporarily derailed her but she would fight back. This week, my mom finally returned home from the hospital. God is good.

One of the most significant dreams I have ever had involved a friend of mine. When Sue told me months ago she was pregnant, I had a dream about her that very night. The whole dream was tinted in pink. My sweet friend just had her baby this week. Guess what? It was a girl.

Do I believe dreams can foretell the future? Maybe. More, I think they are a mirror of our soul. Our fears, hopes and emotions can manifest themselves deep inside of us and dreams are perhaps, the way our soul expresses itself.

Do you believe in dreams? What do you dream about?

Greece…and a Very Special Place

The Path to Faith
On Our Way Down – Photo by Mary Jamis

In an ever changing sequence of events, my mom’s recovery saga took yet another turn last week. After a few days in outpatient rehab mom was back in the hospital, tired and exhausted, and apparently in need of a good rest. At first we panicked, thinking it was a turn for the worse. Finally she woke up from snoring sleep sessions to tell us she was fine. She has a couple more hurdles to clear, but thankfully she is growing stronger every day.

When this latest challenge presented itself last week my mind and body had a few bad days. I was worrying constantly and having trouble sleeping; all the usual reactions to stress. In a moment of clarity, I remembered a special place from our trip to Greece five years ago. During that divine excursion my mom, sisters and I were privileged to witness something that still stays with me to this day.

We were all in a rental car with our native cousin Stavros. He took us for a ride up a mountainside, parking along the berm of a twisty road. I got out of the car and could only see trees, rocks and gorgeous sky. Stavros told us to follow him. My mom held onto us as we descended downward on a simple path of stones. I remember the dirt ground was littered with olive pits. I silently wondered if the birds ate lunch there.

Church in the Hillside-Photo by Cally Jamis Vennare
Church in the Hillside-
Photo by Cally Jamis Vennare

A small white washed church came into view at the bottom of the stone path. It was so beautifully unexpected, so hidden, so precious. We stood in awe while Starvros retrieved the key and opened the small wooden door.

Inside it was tiny, simple and just as special. There was a small altar with icons. We lit candles and Starvros said a prayer. We stayed awhile to bask in the glow of being in such a holy place.

Can you imagine how this memory grounds me? Perhaps it was the beauty, or maybe it was the sacred holiness of such a special place. All I know is it was a huge gift. In my mind, I can run back to that little church any time I want and light a candle for me, my mom, anyone.

I leaned on that little church last week when every last bone in my body was tired and weary. Having a special place where we can go, even if only in our mind, can sometimes make all the difference in the world.

Hear ye!
Beautiful Bell – Photo by Cally Jamis Vennare

Do you have a special memory or place that grounds you? Tell me about it!

The Joy of Simple Pleasures

Toggling for seed! Photo by Michelene Cain
Toggling for seed!
All Photos by Michelene Cain

A couple of years ago my husband asked me what I wanted for Christmas. My reply was “a bird feeder”. I knew exactly where I wanted it to hang too. Right outside my dining room window.

It was there that I could sit, have my morning coffee and watch the birds come and go. And surely they did. As the birds came to toggle for a piece of sunflower seed or other niblet out of the feeder, I gazed at them. I marveled at their color, their speed and their beautiful uniqueness.

In those moments, I slowed down. I watched, enjoyed and delighted. It was my time and space to relax my mind; a meditation so to speak.

Angling for seed!
Angling for seed!

If you love to bird watch, I’m sure you know what I mean. Birds are something to behold; a wonder of nature and God’s special creatures.

I love the bright red of the male cardinal, the subdued muted pink of the female. The chickadees. The woodpecker, ready for a fashion statement with its red head and black/white striped body. Ah, watching them brings joy to my heart!

I tried to think of some other of my favorite simple pleasures. Here they are:

My first cup of coffee in the morning, steamy and hot with a good splash of cream.

The sight of the pine trees around my house, laden heavy with the winter snow.

The smell of clothes warm and fragrant from the dryer.

Chicken soup simmering in a pot on the stove, ready to be enjoyed for dinner with good crusty bread.

A road trip laden with treasure stops, such as a good antique store or better yet, a Fiesta Ware outlet!

The smell of a baby right after a bath.

Home baked cookies in the oven on a cold winter’s day.

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May you notice the simple pleasures your life today! What’s your favorite(s)?

Grace and a Great Greek Cookie

Delicious Finikia!
Delicious Finikia!

I am proud to say I am the grandchild of Greek immigrants. When I was growing up, and still to this day, the holidays were a splendid spread of amazing food and delectable pastries.

The Finikia Set Up Yiayia style!
The Finikia Set Up Yiayia style!

Lucky for me I have a daughter (Michelene) who has a desire to learn those old world recipes before my mom leaves this Earth. We’ve had two “cookie sessions” with my mom, fondly referred to as Yiayia by my daughter.

In these sessions, my mother completely sets up the entire event (as you can see above!), Cally snaps pictures and records video (priceless someday I’m sure), and I of course assist and sample the final delicious creations.

Yiayia decided on a soft nutty cookie called “Finikia” this time. If you have ever been to a Greek food festival, you have no doubt tried Finikia.

Getting ready....
My sister Cally on left, me on the right….Check out that bowl!

The most interesting part of this recipe was mixing  freshly squeezed orange juice into Cream of Wheat by hand. Then, this mixture was folded into the Crisco, egg, sugar, almond and flour batter and viola! a cookie of delicious-ness was born.

A separate hot syrup of sugar and water (with a splash of lemon!) was created and this is what we dipped the baked cookie in. Finally, we rolled them in ground walnuts and Yiayia sprinkled the cinnamon. Ah- they were amazing!

There is really something special about three generations of women coming together to learn a bit of their heritage. I imagine someday this will be a fond memory for my daughter who hopefully will teach her son, my grandson Gavin, how to make this wonderful cookie someday.

I think we ate at least a half dozen Finikia when they were done. Yiayia packed them all up for us so we were free to take them home to our family and friends. If you’re feeling ambitious, I’m attaching my mom’s recipe below for you to give a try. Happy Baking!

YiaYia sprinkling the Cinnamon
Yiayia sprinkling the Cinnamon
The Recipe
The Recipe

Welcome Christmas!

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Dear Friend,

Today is Christmas! No matter where you are, no matter what you are doing, have joy in your heart and warmth for your fellow man and woman.

I searched for a good Christmas poem (tried to write one myself but poet I am not!) and this beautiful winter poem is the one I finally settled upon to share with you.

Love, Joanne

Glorious Winter

by Theodora (Theo) Onken

Come, oh most glorious Winter
Be quick to lay your silence down
Blanket us with your white coverlet
And i will wear my Green Christmas gown…
We will revel in your snowflakes-
Delight in a skate upon your iced over pond
Build forts and ramparts with much glee
Form a White Winter Bond…;
Come, oh most glorious Winter
We welcome your haunting White Noise…
All your white lanes all aglitter
Trees branches weighted-with White Winter Poise;
All agleaming and crisp making…
Comes thru the Decembers quick air
Completely dressed up in your Winter White
Oh, most Glorious White Winter, so fair!

Merry Christmas my friend!

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Take a Walk with Me

I know how busy you are…this will take just a minute.

After years of going to Cook Forest, I discovered a hidden treasure, a jewel of a place, within the Forest itself.

I want to share it with you. It’s called the Forest Cathedral.

Come….let’s walk.

Told you it would be quick! Now, aren’t you glad you joined me?

Blessings to you and especially to my Cook Forest friends!

(All photos taken by me, Katherine’s Daughter!)

Beautifully Imperfect

Last weekend, a bunch of friends and I (and Jim of course) went up to Cook Forest, PA. and rented a cabin in the middle of the forest. We’ve been to “Cook” many times but it never fails….the forest can clear my head and lower my stress level just by its very existence.

When we drove up the driveway to our cabin, I noticed a large tree at the edge of the property. It was spectacular. Tall and gorgeous, just like the other trees around it, only slightly different. Near the bottom of it, close to the ground, was a huge round mass of extra tree, a nature-ish wort, out there, like an elbow of sorts, for everyone to see.

So I spent some of the weekend thinking about imperfection. I thought of the times, in my younger days, when I had focused on what I thought was wrong with me instead of right. How I would wish for long, blond hair instead of the curly black hair I was given. How I wished I was less busty, slightly taller, and had less of a grecian nose. Looking back on it, maybe it was a by product of youth, to want what I did not have, or maybe it was a teeny self esteem issue, something lots of young girls suffer from in a culture based too much on perfection.

As I age, I realize there is great beauty in imperfection. Just like that tree. It makes us who we are and what we are. We learn to either get over ourselves or suffer eventually, from slight forms of mental anguish or too much botox. Recently, I have been making an effort to love myself fully for who I really am, and too, the person I am growing into. It has taken me years to appreciate my own endowed gifts- the same curly hair I used to try and tame, my slightly larger nose, my graceful legs from all the Greek dancing I did growing up.

When I love myself for who I really am, a beautifully imperfect individual, my unrealistic expectations fall away and I am free to use the gifts I have been given. And, to go forth and make the most of them.

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