Embrace what is true and let the rest fall away!

What a year, since I've posted.
What a fantastic, year!

David and I discussed at the beginning of 2015 how it was a big year for our family.  I would turn 50.
Regan would graduate High School.  Rosey would finish Elementary School. Lucas would be launching his Senior year of High School the day his big sister graduated.
We knew there would be family visits for the graduation.
We knew we would travel to NYC to celebrate mine and Joe's birthday, together, in the homage to our now, 47 years of friendship.
We knew that Regan, Zachary and I would all be participating in Into The Woods to end the season at the Theatre, and that it would be Regan's final show with the Company.  Mackensie and Lucas were on Crew, and David and Rosey made it to the show twice, so the Pelicanos were, together for the joy and the tears of this milestone.

Here is what we didn't know.  We didn't know that on Father's Day, after the curtain closed on the final show of Regan's final season at FIRE Theatre Co., Zachary and Mackensie would gift David with the news that he is going to be a Grandfather.  By association, it was a gift for the old Grandmother too!  Even on that very day filled with emotion, we couldn't have known that we would find out on the following Tuesday, that we were going to be Grandparents X TWO!  We are happy that our family is growing and that our dream of growing old together is actually coming true.
(Maybe the growing old part is happening a little faster than we had hoped!)

I can't remember another time in my life when I have so viscerally felt the transition in my bones.

I feel like it is time to change something, in a tangible way to embrace this new stage in our lives.
It can't be hasty, but it must be true.
I have only been 50 for three and a half months, and I feel like I've really begun ACT II.

We are leaving for a Beach Vacation and it will be the last time we are all together, for sure, for a Summer Trip.  Things change.  The kids could have jobs next Summer that prevent them from joining us for the whole week.  Zachary and Mackensie will be relatively new parents of seven month old twins. We'll be ready to see Lucas off on his College adventure, as Regan will be on the way to her Sophomore Year in the summer of 2016.
Things change.
I've changed.
I've changed since the first time I sat in front of this computer and thought I'd "blog,"... "this" isnt' the same as it was in 2009, but yes, "I'm really doing it, whatever it is that challenges me, or makes me content in my world.  I'm learning every day about what it is like to live in the moment, after having shed many of the ideas and, frankly, people  that held me back.  So far, 50 has been fantastic.
I expect it to only get better!


As Little Red exclaimed in Into The Woods, "I'm excited"!

Saturday mornings are made for this...

There are fewer things better than a Saturday morning when the coming Monday is a holiday.

I sit here, at my little computer desk, typing away, knowing that I get an extra one of "these" this week.
Weekends are different during the school year than they are in summer.  The beginning of the Theatre Season coincides with Back to School, so the word "weekend" takes on a whole new meaning, anyway.
It's these Saturday mornings, when the house is quiet and I sip my coffee alone at my desk that I take a moment to be grateful for the weekend before me.

Last night was the first High School Football game of the Season.  Regan went there, in her car, no need for a ride from me anymore.  Milestones...
Lucas is forming a band with some of his friends from school, so he spends Fridays at all night Jam sessions, lately.
We have finally found a New York Style Pizza "joint" in a nearby town, so we hit it last night for pizza and beers to end our first full week of school.

Today is the North Carolina Apple Festival. It is part of what we do to welcome the Fall of the year and we'll attend.  It makes me want to wear boots and a sweater, but it is still 90 degrees in the shade in our region, so I'll use the Festival to whet my appetite for a visit to New York in October, where my boots and sweaters won't be so out of place. I'll stick with shorts and a t-shirt today.
Lucas has plans, so it won't be the five of us, just David, me and the girls.
Things are changing.
I was hoping for one more Apple Festival where we were "all together", but then I remember, Zachary has been gone for 9 years, so we haven't really all been together at the Apple Festival in a very long time.  "All together" means whomever we can gather, for the moment.
We are "all together" most Sunday evenings for dinner, and  that "all together" includes Mackensie, without whom, we can not be "complete".

So I guess, sitting here celebrating Labor Day Weekend, alone at my desk is appropriate.
As my family changes and goes on to lead lives that won't necessarily include me in all of  their plans, I'll be cooking up reasons for us to be "all together".
The trick is to make them want to pick apples in 95 degree heat, or eat funnel cake while sitting on the sidewalk near a grassy patch that is all filled with other funnel cake eaters.  Most of my schemes will be less elaborate than all that, and be limited to the Sunday morning text to Zachary, ("you coming for dinner tonight?") and hoping for the ("yes, of course,")reply.

Next Labor Day weekend, I'll be down another one. Regan will be at College.  So, this Saturday morning, in the quiet hours, *Rosey just walked in and turned on Sponge Bob* before anyone else awakened was made for this, thinking about the times when we are "all together" and appreciating every moment in between.

A bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils

Welcome back.
I must say that it was a fantastic summer with many great adventures, and memories were made.
Things slow down at the Theatre for the staff that isn't involved in all of the creative things, so the days were not harried, just the right kind of busy, for work.

We cruised to the Bahamas and spent a week beachfront at the Isle of Palms.  Vacations are wonderful.

I dealt with grief over the death of my cousin. That still pains me. I said my final goodbye to the person that gave birth to me, and that kind of  finality usually only comes with death, but not in our case.  It was a difficult final chapter of a very long, complicated story.
I even para-sailed in some weak attempt to set myself free of the things that were eating away at me, to no avail.  You can't get over grief, for the loss of the living or the dead, without walking through it and feeling it.
I did feel a little more brave after the flight, and I think it has helped me continue in the journey toward making some kind of peace with my sadness.  Some things are just plain sad.
I didn't spend a lot of time on social media, and I didn't speak to very many people on the phone, outside of my immediate circle.
I decided to begin my journey anew, with the intention of becoming lighter as I move forward toward other changes that are imminent.

A New Beginning...
This is the time of year I love most.  It is my New Year. I have decided to take advantage of the promise of a new season.
The beginning of the school year is filled with all the promise of a fresh start for my kids. In the movie "You've Got Mail", Joe Fox and Kathleen Kelly write emails to each other anonymously and one of those emails refers to Autumn in New York and Joe's urge to gift Kathleen a "bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils" if only they knew each other.  I love the image that phrase invokes. I can smell the pencils, and I can feel the air of a New York Fall each time I watch the movie.
Regan is a Senior, Lucas is a Junior and Rosey is in fifth grade.
We are on the cusp of some major changes for our family as Regan takes flight.
It's time to look at colleges, travel to auditions, and soak up every moment we have left before things change for good.
That's what I'll be writing about for now.  REAL LIFE.
Working through things "out loud" might help me make sense of the every day chaos and bliss that rule my world.
There is a lot going on here and it is all perfectly ordinarily extraordinary.
I've actually had requests for Blog Posts, so I'm going to attempt to oblige.
I was inspired today by a writer friend of mine that writes beautifully. She has a son the same age as Rosey. I love her blog, because she is honest and writes from her heart.
We have a lot in common, yet our lives couldn't be any less alike.

Aren't we supposed to find people that we can relate to, who inspire us to be better?   Shouldn't we all have the pleasure of knowing that someone hundreds of  miles away who happens to come from the same home town sees things through a similar lens as we do. Doesn't that make us feel less alone? Don't we love to have things in common with others.  Don't we need a tribe?  Some friendships don't last.  Some families don't really know how to be families. But we can find ways to connect with people on a level that gives us hope that we're not alone, even when we feel most like we are.
I have dreamed a dream of starting a new life, a new chapter, a second act.  I was prompted to remember by another writer friend that while I'm thinking of a new life, I'm living this life and I'm missing out on somethings  by not living in this moment.
I'll strive to live in the moment. I'll strive to share the story of these moments with the people who stop by this blog, and I'll hope that someone will read these words and be inspired to start over, to share something they've been longing to share, or just to take a moment and know that there is someone who struggles every day with the ideas that swirl around and that someone is trying to make those ideas take shape, if only so someone out there feels less alone on their journey.

...thank you for stopping by.

Vacation

Looking forward to the beach.
Looking forward to the days with no schedules.
Looking forward to turning off the phone.
Sun. Reading. Sand. Food. Games. Drinks. Summer Music. Ocean Views. Charleston.
All of those things with the faces that I love most, around me, all day and night.

Summer begins today.

The moment you realize what "love is" ...

I was doing quite well with my Facebook Fast, until Friday.
I wanted to post on Thursday when I saw the Hillcrest High School Chorus Spring Concert, because I was so impressed by the singers and the level of devotion they showed for the show, and each other.
Their teacher, Bruce McIntyre was a true mentor this year, and that was obvious by the affection between he and his students.
I stopped myself from logging in to Facebook, and worked through the temptation.

Then Friday came.  That same Chorus was asked to sing with the 1980's Super Rock Band Foreigner at their Sounds of Summer Tour with Styx & Don Felder.
Lucas had plans, so David stayed home with Rosey, and I had a very good seat for the Concert.
The Chorus had to report at 4:30 and sell CD's to benefit the Children's Hospital and the Grammy Foundation.  There they were in their Red Chorus T-Shirts that signify their "part".  There was my "Soprano" in her element with a group of friends that she adores.
Twenty five chosen singers along with their Fearless Leader waiting for their moment to shine when they would take the stage for the final song of the night.

I was alone at the concert, save for a couple of friends that I ran into that kept me company between sets, and Regan and her friends stopped in at my section when they were selling their CD's too.
Mostly, Friday was a chance for me to observe more of what I saw on Thursday, at the Concert at Hillcrest.
This is a special moment in time for a special group of kids.

Theatre is a funny game.  People are thrust together in an intense environment, for a short time.
They create something together, and then they go their separate ways.  It's inevitable. Community Theatre breeds drama by it's nature, and yet as a "player" you are isolated in that environment for the length of time that you're "playing".  Regan has been "playing" since she was 6 years old, either backstage, or finally, onstage about 4 years ago.  The Theatre was the source of all of her closest "friendships", but it was also the source of many questions about loyalty and self confidence.   
Recently, Regan has branched out.  Chorus was a big step for her, after an awful experience during her Freshman year.  She has recently auditioned for a Theatre in another town, where no one with the name, Pelicano, is involved, and she got the part.  A big part.  She has expanded her world to include many kids that appreciate the qualities that shine through, and that don't feel competitive with her for reasons that, though imagined, grow like a virus in a laboratory, in the micro environment  of Community Theatre.
I don't know how the other Theatre experience will turn out.  I know she'll do well on stage, and I know that she's having a ball, but I'm not certain that "friends" will be the result of the endeavor.

I feel very differently about the Chorus experience.  I believe that she has found some kids that appreciate all of the things that are "Regan".  As a matter of fact, it was a Chorus friend that suggested she audition at the Theatre in another town.  He wanted her to try because he knew their wasn't anyone who had auditioned that had a voice like hers.  That doesn't mean she has the best voice, it means that it's unique.
She is actually blown away by the vocals of the ladies with which she is sharing the role.  She's not in a competition, she's in a show.

The Chorus kids lit up when she arrived at the Concert on Thursday.  They were truly happy to see her.  A scheduling conflict had caused her to be excused from the performance, and she was ultimately able to split her time and make it to the show for the last few songs.  She was there in time to hear the solo of the young man that took her to Prom this year, and that was one of the reasons she insisted I attend, even when she wasn't sure she'd make it.  This guy was unbelievable.  Made me want to leap to my feet, before he was through.  A voice like I haven't heard on a kid his age before, simply beautiful.
His song was a Senior Solo, and there were more of those kids, with an opportunity to share their talents with their families and friends before they leave for their life adventures.  There were group numbers that had been rehearsed and worked out for weeks, and I've heard about them every afternoon when Regan jumps in the car.  I "knew" the kids without having met many of them so their personalities shone through in song.
Watching this little group of kids sing, and laugh, and take their bows, and hug their teacher, and each other, and then go to dinner and hug each other when they arrived at the restaurant that was right across the street from the school, so they were apart for 7 minutes, and then hug again after they were filled up with burgers and fries, in the parking lot, as they went their separate ways for 16 hours until they were all to meet again, reminded me that love and friendship can't be sustained in environments that breed insecurity and competition.  Sometimes the environments of insecurity and competition are imaginary, they're not exclusive to community theatre.  They rear their ugly heads all the time, in our lives as teenagers, and adults, in work and other areas.

Friendships need that quality of "There you are! I've missed you!" It doesn't matter how long we've been apart, I've thought of you and I have wished you were near me.

If it's every morning at your locker, or every time you arrive at your rehearsal for a show, if you're really friends, that feeling comes through. "There you are!"  "I've missed you!"  It's simple, and it's impossible.  It requires seeing another person through eyes of appreciation for all that they are without comparing them to anything that we are...imagine that.
When we look at others for all that they are, without comparison, competition and insecurity can not survive.

This leads me to a moment in time... the class of 2014 and their friends from the underclass at Hillcrest High School, all culminated on stage Friday night when they rushed out out to sing "I Want To Know What Love Is" with Foreigner in front of thousands of people. Mr. McIntyre joined them and they swayed with their hands in the air and sang at the top of their lungs.  They looked at each other ("There you are!" became "Here we are!"), while they sang and shared a moment that will last forever.  The lights were as bright as their futures.  They were sweaty and no one's hair or make-up looked at all as they had intended it to look as they were getting ready, 6 hours earlier, before the RAIN...
Regan told me that she learned something about herself Friday night.  I won't share what she learned, but the idea that she took that moment and applied it to what she now knows for sure, made me very proud of her accomplishments this year, over and above the things she achieved as a singer.  Regan.  She lights up a lot of lives, especially mine.

...that's why I broke my Facebook Fast.

Tribute

I've always loved handsome men.
I mention that because I lost one of "my" handsome men on Friday.
Even as a very little girl, I was very attracted to physical beauty. My cousin Peter P. Montera Jr. was a beautiful specimen.  He was about 11 years older than me, so I started to understand that he was part of the genetic cream of our family crop when I was about 5 or 6 years old.

My cousins teased me a lot.  They were a team.  There were five Montera kids and one of me at the time.
From the time I was a baby, they called me "Pookie" baby.  There are different explanations for this.  I am going to skip those explanations and say that it was my "what do you call it, my sobriquet..." (Grey Gardens reference, sorry). I never minded because I was part of a very big, extended family and when we were all together, I had people that belonged to me, besides my parents.  I liked that feeling.

Pete was the second of the Montera kids, and his sisters Nell and Toni were two and one year older than I, respectively.  We were great friends as well as cousins.
Annemarie, Pete and David were the big kids.
When Pete was a Senior in High School, he was cast as The Tin Man in The Wizard Of Oz at John Jay High School.  Nell and Toni were Munchkins, so their parents, Chickie (sobriquet) and Peter (sr.) took me to the show. It was my first Theatre experience.
All of this to say...I was in love in a very real way with my cousin Pete.  He lit up that stage, and I was taken by the whole experience.  If you know me, you know that the Theatre is a huge part of my life to this day and it is rooted in that performance.

With the expanse of years between us, we were not "close" by any means.  Pete left for the Navy and married a girl.  They had a son and I was still in second grade!  We saw very little of him over the years. Families are like that. Ours is, at least.  Sometimes I would get a post card from abroad, and they would be newsy and sweet. He always called me "cutie" or some other such term of endearment... after "Pookie" baby wore off.
At one point, I remember being in high school, (Senior Year, I think) and he came back to our home town for a few weeks.  I think his sister Nell will remember this too...he visited and we went out as a threesome.  I remember a few evenings out with him, and thinking at that time, he really was one of the most handsome men I knew.  If I'm not mistaken, he pressed his jeans...meticulous.
We had some good times, and I was entering adulthood.  I liked everything about Pete.  He was elegant.
After he went away again, more postcards, and I married shortly after high school, and he and I saw one another at another family gathering, a funeral for Nell's beloved husband, Al in 1986, I believe.  We joked about Pete's inability to grasp the idea that I was a "married woman" and we warmly shared the same ease and sweet familiarity we had always had together.  There was never any explanation for it.  We were just kindred spirits.

That was the last time I would ever see Pete.

Years went by.  Family spread across the country.  Sometimes we gathered, but not often, and certainly not enough.  We were never, and will never all be together again.

In 2004 I was diagnosed with the Big Breast Cancer, and word spread through the family.

Oh no...not Cheryl.  She's too young.  She just had that baby!  I can practically hear the banter between all of my sincerely concerned family members that had rarely seen or heard from me in the nineteen years since I had married, or nearly that long.  ...but a couple of e-mails arrived in my inbox.  I remember my cousin Annemarie, the eldest Montera kid sent me love and best wishes.  I was moved by the gesture.
Chickie & Peter were living locally so they were in the know about my treatment and they kept their kids "in the loop" to the extent that was proper.

My cousin Pete sent me what I would characterize as a "shy" email, almost introducing himself to me and apologizing for being a "guy" and not staying in touch over the years.  Imagine...an apology for something that we all, each and every one of us, as cousins was guilty of.
It was an email that was newsy, and informative of all things in his life since we had seen each other.  I answered with all of the wonderful things going on in my life, and probably a brief outline of what the Treatment Cycle was going to look like for the next six months or so.

Pete answered the following morning...and so it began.

Every Day. Monday through Friday, I would get an email from Pete.  I loved Mondays because they would tell about the weekend with his wife and boys,  and what the family did.
He would share his vacation planning. I remember when he was looking into a Disney Cruise for the family.
He shared with me that he called the Disney Cruise folks and when they quoted the price, he told them "I don't want to buy the ship...I want to cruise for a week!"  He was funny, and practical.  He shared some stories about his travels in the Navy, and lots of updates on his kids.
Sports they were involved in, grades they would bring home, anything that was of interest about what we shared in common, our love for our families.  Regan & Lucas are just a bit younger than Pete's twins, Justin & Jarrett.  Jackson is a bit older.  We shared daily conversation.  We connected as adults.  We took all of the extended  family dysfunction and locked it up someplace out of view, from which it could not escape, and we became a new kind of fresh, real family.  The kind one would choose if they had all the choices in the world.

Treatment ended.  I was cured.  Emails got fewer and farther between, but not forgotten.  We touched base about every two or three months, with news about the kids, or a Holiday wish.  In mid-January 2008 I shared with Pete the ordeal that Rosey had been through at the first of that month. She had a "terratoma" tumor the size of a coconut removed, and it had been a harrowing time for our family.  I reached out to Pete to share the story, as I knew he would want to know.  A couple of days later, an enormous bouquet of Cookies showed up on our porch for Rosey.  They were from Pete, Julie, Jackson, Justin and Jarrett.
That was only the beginning...

Rosey has received a bouquet of cookies for every holiday ever since.  Let me put that in perspective...
Six years of Cookie Bouquets about six times per year on the doorstep, for a little girl whom he never met.
Pete was an imaginary friend to Rosey.
Pete was a hero to my husband David.  Anyone that shows that kind of love to his family touches David's heart. He reached out to Pete via e-mail, randomly one time after a bouquet arrived.  They exchanged pleasantries about fatherhood and gratitude and family, our kind of chosen family.  I am so glad that happened.  Two of the most important people in my life connected over mutual love for family.
Last Father's Day, Rosey made a very special Father's Day Card for Pete.  An expression of gratitude, and an exercise in connecting.   I'm glad for that too.

I didn't mention that I receive a bouquet every Mother's Day, of my very own.
They arrive and I send an email thanking Pete, and he writes back to tell me how welcome I am.
This year, just last Sunday, I sat down and wrote a "proper" Thank You note to Pete, Julie and the boys.
I told him that I appreciate being remembered, and that I love him.
I'm not sure he got the Thank You note.
Pete was sick last week.  Something lingering, from what I've been told.
He died suddenly on Friday morning.  My cousin, one of the princes in my life and the life of my Rosey, passed away on Lucas' birthday.  He left behind four sons, three of which lived with him, one of which was grown.  He left behind a wife that by all accounts adored him.  He left behind a brother and three sisters that had been estranged from him, and some from each other over the years.  He left behind a Mother and Father. His Mother, is the matriarch of our side of the Woods family that remains.
We are not a "close" family. I received word of Pete's passing from Annemarie, his big sister, via a private Facebook Message.
How do you tell someone that a person who should be alive isn't alive anymore?  Is there an appropriate vehicle to deliver such news?  I am not certain that the Facebook message wasn't the best way to find out.
I was able to read it over and over.  "My brother Pete passed away last night.  We are all in shock."...
What? Read it again. What? Read it again.

I will end this post by telling you, readers, that I loved my cousin Pete very much.  The good news is that he knew it.  We stayed "close" with no expectations, no demands, we never even saw each other again, as we had planned..."this is going to be the year"...wishes don't always come true.
We stayed away from touchy subjects, and we never discussed our extended family.  We respected each other's boundaries.  I dare say, we didn't agree politically or on the topic of religion, but we never discussed such things so it didn't matter.  We talked about what we did agree about, our spouses, our kids, our daily lives, movies we'd seen, shows we'd attended, things that our lives are made up of on a daily, real, basis.
Love allows you to skip the things that don't matter. Love is what our lives are really comprised of, in the end.

I got to tell him I love him, but I didn't get to tell him, goodbye.
This is my "goodbye".
I will miss Peter P. Montera Jr. forever.  Forever...

Almost...

The idea to abandon social media appeals to me. It also frightens me.

What if they forget?

My cyber friends. The people that "like" my "stuff".

The people that tell me I'm doing a great job.

The people that validate me? 

Will I be missed?

Am I going to lose something I've valued? Old friends from high school that remember me as a young, hell raising, singing, love-sick, skinny, loud mouthed, teenager...will they forget that I'm now an old, he'll raising, singing, mothering, not so skinny, slightly quieter, grown up with whom they feel connected?

Some weren't even really friends, more like acquaintances. I feel like we're truly friends now.

Connected. 

There have been sacrifices. That's true. 

I am going to do it. I'm going to black out and hope that everyone comes here, to the blog.

I love the connection. 

I'm struggling.

I'm taking the leap on Monday. That will be the first of the hundred day respite.

I'll still be here.

Please don't forget.