Time Travel

As I am writing this piece, I am engaging in a regular Saturday morning ritual….tea (today it is Ginger and Turmeric with a squirt of lemon juice to help ease out some bronchial yukkiness that followed me home from vacation) and listening to Sleepy Hollow on WXPN. At the moment the tune wafting through the air is Moon Mist by Duke Ellington Legacy, led by Mercer Ellington The theme today is songs with moon in the title. Clarinet, piano, and sax are tickling my ears and easing me into a busy weekend that includes a gathering of friends tonight and my grandson’s birthday party tomorrow. He turned a year old in January, but the celebration was limited to immediate family. Now, I anticipate vaxxed and/or masked family and friends running around, hugging, laughing, and playing in his mini pool and splash pad. This gracefully aging kid will join the chronological children in the fun. He is a gift package of energy, joy, power, sunshine, love, delight, smarts, curiosity, fun, learning, spontaneity, strength, and tallness…this kid is in the 99th percentile for height at 2 1/2 feet tall.

Two years ago, Dean was just a dream (My daughter-in-law’s father dubbed him ‘Dean the Dream’). We imagined what this wonder child would be like but I had no clue he would capture my heart as he has. My father would have said he has me wrapped around his little finger.

Three years ago, I held the hand and witnessed the final breath of my dear friend Ondreah. Although we were not lovers in the sexual sense, she was the closest to a partner I had in many years.

Observations from the weekend she died:

“Over the past few months, since Ondreah’s new diagnosis, I have done my typical ‘hold it together’ so I can ‘get shit done’. I do that well, taking after my mother in that regard. She was the rock of the family. In the midst of this journey, I have trickled a few tears. My son called me Friday night to check on me. I was looking out the window of the hospice unit waiting room at the darkened street below, remembering nights 20 years ago when I was staying in the ICU with my husband who was making his transition. Adam said, “Mom, I know you. You’re taking care of everyone else again. You need to take care of you.”

“Two particularly powerful things happened as Ondreah was passing. I had my hands on her leg and arm and could feel a jolt of electricity such that my hands were lifted off her body. As she was taking her leave, I finally had a tearful breakthrough. I had been holding on for a long time. I started snotting so my friend Ernie Oktay grabbed a tissue and blew my nose for me. (like you would blow your child’s nose. I reminded him of the adage: “You can pick your friends. You can pick your nose, but you can’t pick your friend’s nose.” He came pretty close) What are friends for? Through my tears, I told him that oughta be a Laughter Yoga exercise! Now to sleep, I hope.”

She shows up in dreams and plants messages in my mind to this day and I stay in touch with her family. I think of her every day, since I inherited a piece of furniture, a drum, her essential oils, and a few items of clothing.

Almost four years ago, Adam and Lauren got married, introduced by a mutual friend. I am a grateful mother-in-law.

Seven years ago, I had a shake-up wake up the experience of a heart attack on the way home from the gym on a ‘normal day’.

A few months prior, I co-founded Hugmobsters Armed With Love, and began offering FREE HUGS. To date, I have hugged thousands of people in this country, Canada and Ireland.

Eight years ago, I had the skin tingling (not in a good way) experience of shingles.

10 years ago, I published my book The Bliss Mistress Guide To Transforming The Ordinary Into The Extraordinary which is a series of slice of life stories.

Nearly 11 years ago, my mother died of Congestive Heart Failure after a six-month hospice journey that I took along with her.

13 years ago, I had a life-changing interview with His Holiness the Dalai Lama which was two decades in the making.

That same year (a few months prior) my father died of Parkinson’s Disease and I am convinced that he helped to orchestrate the interview with His Holiness. My father grew up in South Philadelphia and everywhere we went, he knew someone.

A year or so before that I found myself in a relationship with a man who I wrote about in the book who dubbed me Bliss Mistress and dared me to live my bliss each day.

16 years ago, I began facilitating a workshop called Cuddle Party which focuses on communication, boundary setting and safe, nurturing, platonic touch, by consent. I most definitely laid the groundwork for much of what I am known for now; my branding of sorts, as ‘the hug lady,’ or as a friend refers to me, “Mutha Hugga’.

17 years ago, I met a person that I consider a ‘water brother’ who helped me expand my horizons in every way imaginable and beckoned me to be authentic, even if it was challenging at times. We remain friends to this day and I find myself smiling whenever I think of him.

22 years ago, I graduated from The New Seminary which is an interfaith program in NYC. I was ordained as an Interfaith Minister after completing a two-year program in a six-month period after my husband who had been enrolled, died that previous December.

Nearly 23 years ago, after a six-year battle with Hepatitis C, my husband Michael moved on to his next incarnation. Hoping it is a more peaceful and healing one than much of his 48 years on the planet this time around.

25 years ago, we built a room in our home to accommodate a hot tub to help ease his symptoms of neuropathy. It was a lovely place to relax and rejuvenate. I used to love to look out the window as the snow wafted down while immersed in bubbling warmth.

28 years ago, I walked into my first CODA (Co-dependents Anonymous Meeting) since it became abundantly clear that I carried that addiction of people-pleasing, enmeshment, enabling and caretaking, at my own peril.

29 years ago, we adopted our son Adam who was nearly five at the time. I smile when people comment on his photos and Dean’s pictures and say he or they look like me. That same year, Michael was diagnosed with the disease that eventually took his life. A few months later, we lost our house in Homestead, FL to Hurricane Andrew which ultimately blew us back home to PA where I live to this day.

33 years ago, Michael and I founded Visions Magazine which focused on wellness, spirituality, environmental concerns, and peace, and social justice. It is where I cut my teeth on journalism and had the blessing of interviewing amazing transformational teachers, writers, artists, musicians and political leaders.

34 years ago, we married after a whirlwind courtship that began a year earlier when we met at a Ram Dass lecture under serendipitous circumstances that still have me in awe to this day.

Fast forward to a few months ago and after years of not using the hot tub and it was taking up space that could be put to better use, I decided to renovate the room and make it a restful haven for me. I am gazing out the French door to my back yard where a baby bunny came to peer in and then hop away and a robin perched on the fence offering a greeting.

The love seat in which I am ensconced surrounded by comfy pillows belonged to my parents and I brought it back up from Florida after they died. It serves to remind me that every choice we make, every life event we experience, as painful as it might be, can lead to beauty. I value each one.

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