Marty Came Home for Christmas

Christmas 🎄 Past 1950

The Fries family did not sit for a formal Christmas Card photo this year because my brother, Martin Joseph Fries, was not at home.  Earlier that year, he fell as he walked toward his highchair in our kitchen.  He said he tripped, but the grim reality was that he was experiencing the effects of the dreaded Infantile Paralysis, better know by every parent across the USA as Polio.  I was only 5 years old at the time but events that are heavily laden with sadness, heartbreak and terror, somehow leave an indelible brand in one's brain, even if that brain is only five years old.  I remember the exact position of the highchair and the shock and alarm that permeated the room.   I heard the rapid talk between my parents and knew the family was in crisis.   Our trusted, family physician, Dr. William Carrington was contacted and his recommendation was to take my brother to King's County Hospital immediately for a spinal tap in order to confirm the suspected diagnosis.  I remember holding onto my mother's hand for dear life as we walked the perimeter of Kings County Hospital while we waited for the procedure to be done.  I remember the feel of the sidewalk beneath my feet and the high foreboding fence to our right side.  My mother didn't say much. My father was inside with his baby, Marty.   When we got back to our house at 62 Interboro Parkway, Marty was laid on the living room couch as we waited for our parish priest to arrive to give him a special blessing.   He had been summoned from St. Michael the Archangel, Jerome St, East NY Brooklyn.  The priest blessed Marty using the relic of a little girl from our Parish, who had recently died.  This gave great comfort to my parents and later on I heard that the progression of Marty's paralysis stopped as soon as he received this blessing.

Marty was taken out to Port Jefferson, Long Island to St. Charles Rehab Hospital/Home run by an order of nuns known as the Daughters of Wisdom.   He was admitted for extensive physical therapy and resided there for many months.  It was a sad and lonely time at the Fries residence.   The photo above was taken on Christmas Eve on my Grandma and Grandpa Fries' enclosed front porch when my brother was allowed home for a few days over Christmas.  Marty is the little guy with the snazzy tie sitting in the center.  When he returned back home permanently on Good Friday the next year, he was very disappointed to discover that the Christmas Tree had been removed.

The Fries family did not sit for a formal Christmas Card photo this year because my brother, Martin Joseph Fries, was not at home.  Earlier that year, he fell as he walked toward his highchair in our kitchen.  He said he tripped, but the grim reality was that he was experiencing the effects of the dreaded Infantile Paralysis, better know by every parent across the USA as Polio.  I was only 5 years old at the time but events that are heavily laden with sadness, heartbreak and terror, somehow leave an indelible brand in one's brain, even if that brain is only five years old.  I remember the exact position of the highchair and the shock and alarm that permeated the room.   I heard the rapid talk between my parents and knew the family was in crisis.   Our trusted, family physician, Dr. William Carrington was contacted and his recommendation was to take my brother to King's County Hospital immediately for a spinal tap in order to confirm the suspected diagnosis.  I remember holding onto my mother's hand for dear life as we walked the perimeter of Kings County Hospital while we waited for the procedure to be done.  I remember the feel of the sidewalk beneath my feet and the high foreboding fence to our right side.  My mother didn't say much. My father was inside with his baby, Marty.   When we got back to our house at 62 Interboro Parkway, Marty was laid on the living room couch as we waited for our parish priest to arrive to give him a special blessing.   He had been summoned from St. Michael the Archangel, Jerome St, East NY Brooklyn.  The priest blessed Marty using the relic of a little girl from our Parish, who had recently died.  This gave great comfort to my parents and later on I heard that the progression of Marty's paralysis stopped as soon as he received this blessing.

Marty was taken out to Port Jefferson, Long Island to St. Charles Rehab Hospital/Home run by an order of nuns known as the Daughters of Wisdom.   He was admitted for extensive physical therapy and resided there for many months.  It was a sad and lonely time at the Fries residence.   The photo above was taken on Christmas Eve on my Grandma and Grandpa Fries' enclosed front porch when my brother was allowed home for a few days over Christmas.  Marty is the little guy with the snazzy tie sitting in the center.  When he returned back home permanently on Good Friday the next year, he was very disappointed to discover that the Christmas Tree had been removed.

Question # 4 from my very Wise Spiritual Mentor

Before I begin, I’d love ❤️ to hear your thoughts about this question-How would you answer this question ? Question # 4 In an attempt to be clear on what you do believe, write your own creed. 

I believe God is the supreme being of unconditional love who lives and moves and has his being in all of creation. 

I believe this being is a mystery beyond our current comprehension. I believe this entity that I have grown up calling God is a relational being who permeates every aspect of creation.  I believe he ( forgive me but I’m use to using this pronoun) is all loving and all truth.  I believe that all people are equal and welcome in his sight and in his embrace.  

I believe Jesus came to earth to teach us a way of truth and love.  I believe he is a part of a trinity, as is so much of life around us. I do not believe nor can I accept that the part of this relational trinity often labeled Father, required a horrific death experience for Jesus in order to appease Him and make up for our past sinfulness. What loving Father would ever require this of his beloved Son? I believe Jesus was crucified because he spoke out against the injustices and lack of love he saw around him. This did not bode well with the powers that be. They tried to silence his message but failed and they crucified him because they felt they couldn’t contain him any other way. It didn’t really work because his message of love had already spread and had gotten into the minds and hearts of so many people that he continued to live and move and have his being in them. This indwelling Christ uses our hands and feet and minds and hearts to continue the process of bringing the kingdom ( kin-dom )of God to earth as it is in heaven. 

And speaking of heaven I honestly don’t really know what that is and wonder if anyone really knows.   Maybe this Heaven is beginning to take shape as our consciousness evolves and we converge and unite and progress to a place of beloved community where the needs of others are truly as important as our own- a place of peace and love.  Maybe that’s what it means when we say, “ thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth 🌍 as it is in Heaven” 

The following is the Statement of Faith of the Upper Room Community in the Capital District of NY State. 

Statement of Faith:

We believe in the Holy One, a divine mystery 

beyond all definition and rational understanding, 

the heart of all that has ever existed, 

that exists now, or that ever will exist. 

 

We believe in Jesus, messenger of the Divine Word, 

bringer of healing, heart of Divine compassion, 

bright star in the firmament of the Holy One's 

prophets, mystics, and saints. 

 

We believe that We are called to follow Jesus 

as a vehicle of divine love, 

a source of wisdom and truth, 

and an instrument of peace in the world. 

 

We believe in the Spirit of the Holy One, 

the life that is our innermost life, 

the breath moving in our being, 

the depth living in each of us. 

 

We believe that the Divine kin-dom is here and now, 

stretched out all around us for those 

with eyes to see it, hearts to receive it, 

and hands to make it happen. 

Lest I forget- October 3, 2018

 So we are staying here! We backed out of our contract to buy the ranch across the street for a number of reasons.  The ranch across the street is lovely in case anyone is interested. We forfeited our  deposit and turned over the Inspection Report therefore our change of ❤️ cost us over $2600! ( in two weeks).  We decided we could not leave our trees 🌲 🌳 and our backyard  and our glorious summer porch and our hardwood floors and our gas burning stove and our nice spacious rooms and the best dining room in all of Colonie ( well I may be a little biased on that one!  ) We can still get up the stairs and will put in a chair lift should that become necessary.  We decided the exercise is good for our cardiovascular health.  Thank goodness we both were on the same page with this decision - no argument there!  We woke up one morning on a blowup mattress in our family room ( our oak tread stairs were being redone and we were sleeping downstairs for a couple of nights ) and looked at each other and basically spontaneously said why are we doing this? We learned some interesting things in the process.   I learned that I take after my father a bit in the fact that I hate being told “you need to get granite countertops “ and “your kitchen is too 1980’s “.  Why would I pull out a perfectly functional counter top simply because it is mauve in color. I’ll simply call my kitchen a retro look kitchen! Who knows, maybe I’ll start a new trend. I have custom made solid oak kitchen cabinets that were recently refinished by a 92 year old guy out in the country we call Fred the Junkman. He is a retired Nassau County Cop who years ago opened a marvelous “junk” store out in the country.  We took the cabinet doors off and delivered them to him and he sanded and refinished them at a very good price. In fact we paid him more than he asked for!  I will never cover this marvelous wood with white paint no matter what is in vogue.  And when it comes time to sell, I refuse to remove the photos of the people I love just so they can envision themselves living in my home. Hopefully they have good enough imaginations to picture their own loved ones in their place.   Bob promised to use the money we would have paid into a Home Owners Association fee in a Senior’s Only Development ( such as Maxwell Village down the street which oddly enough is mostly two stories anyway!) to hire help to maintain the outside area and I have vowed to clean out the clutter and simplify our life inside the house.  I have started and I will report back to you on my progress periodically ( it helps me stay true to my commitment ).   Besides with the rate of development here in Colonie, we may have the only trees left in town!!! Lastly we have loads of kids moving into the neighborhood and the beautiful sounds they make are delightful.

Another Question: Who is God for me? Who is the God I know? How had God shown God’s Self to be for me?

 My reflections on another question that my Spiritual Mentor presented to me. 

The first very vivid memory I have of God occurred shortly before my First Holy Communion at St. Michael the Archangel Elementary School in the East New York section of Brooklyn.  The Nun in charge of my released time religious instructions in preparation for receiving my First Holy Communion, who, by the way, I remember as being a sweet and gentle woman, called me to come to the front of the classroom to speak to the Pastor. I was one of the youngest students in her class and Father Pascal was there to see if I was “ready” to receive my First Holy Communion.  Father too, was a kind and loving person and I did not feel threatened by his questioning. I remember him asking me if I knew who I was receiving when I was given the small, round host and I had no question that it was Jesus. I was happy and excited that Jesus was going to be coming to me in this intimate, personal way.  I loved this Jesus right off the bat and that feeling has never wavered. 

Sadly, as time went on, I was introduced to a different type of God. I was taught about a God that was ready to condemn me to the fires of hell for all eternity for missing Mass, eating meat on Friday or kissing for longer than a certain number of a seconds. In my head I had a picture of God the Father as an elderly gray haired man sitting on a throne somewhere up above the clouds. I saw the son as the man nailed to the cross, hanging in agony because of my sinfulness. The Holy Ghost was a white dove that gradually morphed into the Holy Spirit and eventually became a rather magical expression of the Almighty to me. 

It has taken me a lifetime to rid myself of these childhood symbols of God. I’m still struggling with some rather negative images of the Almighty.

At the current time, I guess God is a mystery to me-a mystery that I continue to explore through a number of different avenues. I’ve always been the most attracted to the Holy Spirit as it seems like the most possible explanation of God to me.  

I agree with St. Augustine, that “our hearts ❤️ are restless until they rest in Thee!”

I believe that throughout my life I’ve been looking for God in the love I’ve felt for fellow human beings, both male and female.  Human love is a wonderful thing and a taste of the divine, but it is always a bit disappointing because it just can’t seem to reach where we want to go. Only God can satisfy this longing.

God is definitely Love. God loves unconditionally in contrast to the vindictive God I learned about in years gone by. 

God permeates everything and everyone although it’s hard for me to see God in certain situations and in certain people. 

I’m learning now, how this mystery (often called God) is evolving and working though all of creation. 

I’ve also heard that God is a relational, trinitarian being and I’ve also been told that the Holy Spirt is the love that is expressed between the Father and the Son.  

I’ve always wondered about the meaning of this expression: “ In God we live and move and have our being”.  If we could clearly comprehend this concept, I believe we would have a more complete understanding of the Almighty. Perhaps this will happen when we “see God face to face” and are experiencing this gift: Eye has not seen, nor ear has heard what God has ready for for those who love ❤️ “.

What I didn’t know 52 years ago

 

I married Bob Buchner on September 18th 1971, exactly 52 years ago today.

There are quite a lot of things I didn’t know then. 

I didn’t know the years would go so fast.

I didn’t know I’d one day live in the Capital District of New York State in a suburb of Albany. 

I didn’t know my children would be carried in the wombs of other women. 

I didn’t know I’d love them as much as if I’d given birth to them physically. 

I didn’t know how precious my one and only grandson would be.

I didn’t know that being able to take a nap on my anniversary would be such a fabulous event. 

I didn’t know I would be happy to eat leftovers on my actual anniversary. After all, wasting the food would make me sad. 

I didn’t know that I would be blessed with the most wonderful friends living nearby; friends I would never have met if we didn’t move north of the Whitestone Bridge. 

I didn’t know how many aches and pains descend upon a person in the golden years. 

I didn’t know what a mystery God would become as I got older.  

I didn’t know how excited I would be to look for the Divine, nonetheless. 

I didn’t really know what it would feel like to say goodbye to the previous generation. 

I didn’t know I’d ever be ready to go outside the house without wearing eye makeup. 

I didn’t know topics of conversations would change so much.  

I didn’t know I’d feel so tired some days. 

The Question

How, in the course of your life, might have God used you to make the world a better place? 

My first reaction to this question is this:

I feel a bit embarrassed to say that I actually did something so wonderful that I made the world a better place.   Am I really that important that God would choose to use me to make the world a better place? 

Isn’t that a bit conceited of me? 

Maybe it means God might have used me, if only I responded to the call.  Did I answer or did I ignore the request? 

Oftentimes, sadly, I probably ignored the opportunity placed at my doorstep. 

What made me be hesitant to respond to God’s requests? 

Laziness, indecision, selfishness or the overriding fear that seems to have influenced so much of my life.

A lot of things that I might think I’ve done to make the world a better place, are things that are probably categorized under things that “ go against Roman Catholic Church teachings “.

Therein lies the dilemma for me, i.e., a person so thoroughly ingrained with church teachings, that I was awarded the Religion medal at 8th grade graduation ( much to my surprise and embarrassment - truthfully what 13 year old wants to be known as “Miss Goody Two Shoes”? ). The reality was I repeated back almost verbatim everything I was told and every assigned reading I was given.  I equated adherence to religious teachings as a way to avoid the fires of hell for all eternity.  

Early on in my Catholic School journey, I remember the “good” Sister asking us - her fifth grade students-to fold our hands across our chests at night before going to sleep. “ Close your eyes and pretend that you are lying dead in your coffin. This will keep you from sinning, “ she told us. Well I’m not so sure about that, but it certainly did scare the Hell out of me! 

Linguine and Clam Sauce

I don’t typically post food picture but Linguini and Clam sauce brings back some very special high school memories that I just couldn’t help myself. 

The very first time I ever ate Linguine and Clam sauce was when I was invited to my classmate, Phyllis  Frogales’ house for dinner and she served it to me. Phyllis lived with her family in a home in Queens, not  very far from our high school, Our Lady of Wisdom Academy, Ozone Park. I felt so grown up sitting around her family’s old fashioned formal dining room table with a few of my closest High School friends.  I had never eaten anything like this before.  My Mom’s homemade Manhattan clam chowder or my Dad’s occasional shucked raw clams were the only things I ever knew you did with clams.   But when I tasted Phyllis’s piping hot bowl of Linguine and Clam sauce I was immediately hooked.  I was also very impressed with Phyllis’ culinary skills and wondered how one so young could create such a tasty meal.  All these decades later, I still have no idea if she labored over an elaborate recipe or simply opened a can of Progresso  Clam Sauce and boiled some pasta.  Whatever she did, I loved the results and became an immediate fan. Shortly afterwards, a group of us HS Juniors, went out for a celebratory dinner after receiving our senior rings in the OLWA chapel. We made reservations for this very special dinner event at Mama Leone’s, an iconic and very famous landmark restaurant in midtown Manhattan. A bunch of my HS friends and I were seated at an impressive, large round table elaborately decorated with a white tablecloth, fancy china dishes and sparkling silverware and glasses.  We were in the middle of the fanciest restaurant I had ever been in my life.  I can still feel the refreshing coolness of the air conditioning that surrounded my body, and off to one side I see the impressive wall filled with wine bottles floor to ceiling.   I also hear and feel the mist from the waterfall that was created right nearby our table in this elaborate Italian establishment. The waiters stood at attention and treated us like Queens; they were ready to fulfill all our requests even before we asked.  At 16 years of age, this was a totally new experience for me.  I knew nothing about fine dining.  I didn’t even know how to properly set a table without looking at the back pages of my Mom’s cookbook.   But, one thing I knew that day and people who know me well know that this is a big thing-a really big thing-I knew what I wanted to eat, I knew what I wanted to order. Without hesitation I told the fancy waiter, “I’ll have the Linguine with Clam sauce.”  And, I might add, it was delicious!

Turning 78!

 

Could that be me? Can I really be that old? Just yesterday I was bar hopping to find my Mr. Right and today I think about writing my obituary and planning my memorial services.  

Am I odd? I would say not; I’m just being realistic. 

We talk about sizing down but then again most days I barely have enough energy to do the basic tasks of living - showering, making the bed, preparing the dinner, washing the clothes, etc.  Aches and pains  travel around my body and interfere with a restful night of sleep. 

“I’m lucky” most would say and I believe it’s true but depression sits on the other side of the door, trying to enter. 

Try to live in the moment. 

Take pleasure in the little things. 

“I know, I know”, I answer these platitudes that make their way into my consciousness. 

This is a time of reflection. I remember the events of my life. What made me who I am today? I remember all the individuals who loved me over all these decades and I’m filled with gratitude. 

Did I make all the right decisions?

Did I take the right paths? Did I follow God’s will? Then again I wonder still and maybe more than ever-Who or What is this entity people refer to as God? Am I supposed to know for certain; am I supposed to be secure?  What will happen after I stop breathing? Some nights as I’m falling asleep I’m conscious of my heart - how has it beat so steadily over all these years. It amazes me when I think about its consistency. Even through the night while I’m sleeping, my heart keeps going - Wow, thanks heart ❤️! 

I sometimes wonder about other aspects of my body and I wonder why we have two arms, two legs and are made up in the way we are made up instead of in another configuration. 

No matter what I feel or fear or enjoy, it won’t stop the progression of time.   It just keeps moving on and in the end it seems to me that the only thing that ever really mattered or matters still is Love ❤️. 

Old Age

Although the alternative is probably worse, old age sucks (not a very nice way for a “ lady” to talk).

Watching us old people walk and sit and stand and do just about everything slower and more laborious is downright depressing.   The joints hurt, the muscles weaken,  teeth, eyes and ears need all the help they can get. The Medicare depression survey is all too real to me now. I’m not really sure why these questions are asked when there isn’t anything they do to correct the reality or solve the problem.  

Basically it is a time of downward spiraling and stories of sickness and death fill the conversations all around me. This one’s got cancer, that one’s spouse has Alzheimer’s, and on and on and on.  Too many wakes and funerals and “celebrations of life”.  All this is happening at a time when I’m not even sure what exactly I believe in anymore.  Who is this God? What awaits us after we take our final breath and our heart stops beating?  Does anyone really know? 

The reality is that our time is running out and we’re moving more and more to the periphery. 

I’m told to live in the moment, count my blessings and I’d like to be able to do that but oftentimes it’s not that easy to do.  

Are you ever feeling this way? 

Or are you better at being happy than I am?

Buyer Beware!

Dead fish 🐟 as a result of this red tide.  I’m not very knowledgeable about this algae but it is certainly destructive. Does it have to do with a damaged environment? Some say yes, some say no. It seems to me that we are not taking proper care of our environment.

“Low salinity, a high nutrient content in the water and warmer-than-usual surface water temperatures are usually cited as contributing to a red tide's formation.”

“Scientists generally believe that coastal pollution from human sewage, agricultural runoff, and other sources contributes to red tides,…”

“Data from Mote has suggested that nutrients that runoff the land into the sea may contribute to red tide. These nutrients can include natural (animal waste) and human-contributed (fertilizer) sources. These sources can runoff in stormwater into storm drains, rivers, and ponds and ultimately the Gulf.”

“Red tides are naturally occurring, but there is ample evidence that shows nutrient pollution can fuel blooms, making them larger and longer lasting. Learn more about this here. Worse still, warming waters associated with climate change appear to be helping these blooms thrive in areas that haven't been affected by algae blooms historically. 

The nutrient pollution that fuels algal blooms comes from many different sources- runoff from agriculture and landscaping fertilizers, leaky septic tanks and aging sewage infrastructure, and stormwater and urban runoff. And we all can take steps to curb these sources of pollution and support clean water at the beach.”

 

The truth of the matter is that currently here at the beautiful beaches in Sarasota, Florida the Red Tide is wickedly debilitating.  

“The red tide organism, Karenia brevis, was detected in 91 samples from and offshore of Southwest Florida over the past week. Bloom concentrations (>100,000 cells/liter) were present in 25 samples..”

People all around me are coughing continuously with the same sounding cough.  We’ve shut our windows, and are using only recirculated air conditioning. I’m wearing a mask every time I need to step outside our two room rental.  I’ve become a bit of a prisoner in a much too costly prison.  

Interestingly, this problem is not widely publicized. Could it have to do with 💰 money? How can builders and realtors continue to sell $5 million dollar condominiums at the beach 🏖️ or charge outrageous seasonal rental fees if this truth becomes public knowledge?