Me, Then and Now

Liz at http://eternallizdom.blogspot.com/ was talking about her hair and how she had it long and short, etc. So I said I'd post pictures of me with my "natural hair color (no, My natural isn't dark brown with blond highlights!) Once upon a time, it was black! Now it's white! So tell me what you think..... keep coloring it? let it go natural and white (and I can probably get into the movies as a senior citizen!)

OK, this is me, taken when I was on my Just divorced Cruise 2 years ago. Dark brown hair, a few blonde highlights.

This is my high school graduation picture, in 1973. Ah, to have that hair again (not to mention the figure!!!)

OK, this is me with my 2 daughter, June 2002 (6 years ago!) at Gina's high school graduation. The girls qwere 17 and 12. My hair is in it's natural state. It's probably even more white now! I'm sure the divorce made it even whiter! Gina is now 24 and Dani just turned 18. Below is what they look like now (these were taken a year or so ago.)

So, whatya think? Go natural and old lady or keep the brown?

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year to one and all! I don't make resolutions any more. The only time I ever succeeded in a resolution was when I quit smoking Jan 1, 1992. All the lose weight, pay bills on time, yada, yada, yada went by the wayside in short order. So I'm just going to try to be the best me I know how to be.

My New Year's Eve, New Year's Day was fairly uneventful. I had to work daytime on both days. My youngest kid is in Oregon visiting a friend, so John spent the weekend at my house (long boring story, but they will not be in the same house together ... both being VERY immature) NYE, we stopped at Applebees on the way home from work and had dinner. We were early so missed having to to wait for a table.

I talked to my oldest, Gina for a while on the phone on New year's Eve. I texted my other 2 kids but they didn't bother to respond. My son misplaced his phone on NYE, so he might not have had it in his possession, but my younger daughter just flat out didn't bother. She's the mean one.

Once we got home, we snuggled in to watch a couple of movies, weird ones too. First we saw L.A. Confidential that I may or may not have seen before (possible I fell asleep the first time). Just when I was ready to change the channel, it got good. Next up was No Country For Old Men. What a weird-ass movie! Hard for me to believe it won 4 Oscars! The movie never had any kind of closure! It didn't end, it just stopped! I'm glad we didn't spend $20 to see this in the theaters!

New Year's Day, I had to work. It was soooo slow. I was shift leader yesterday. I sent 3 servers home and we finally had a decent amount of business because there were only 4 of us left to wait on tables (plus the bar).

One girl got pissy because she wanted to leave, but I made her stay until shift change. Guess she shouldn't have insulted me earlier in the day. Simona is now on my list and will be the first server cut each time I'm shift leader and she'll make very little money. I wish I had sent her home, but she wanted to go so badly, I just couldn't accommodate her.

The evening of New Year's Day was very uneventful. Stopped at the grocery store, came home, munched on stuff all night (some healthy, a lot not healthy) and watched Mythbusters all night. My favorites were the episode when they all got drunk to test their skills while snockered and test ways to sober up afterwards. The guy with the bald head and beret (Jim?) didn't seem even tipsy to me even though he blew .11 at one point. The other guy (Adam?) was all giggly and funny and Karie was a scream, trying to focus her eyes on pictures! The other episode I liked was the MacGuyver episode where they tried to debunk the cool stuff Mac did on his show. The James Bond episode was good too, but I liked the toher 2 better. I just wish Richard Dean Anderson had shown up near the end. that would have been fun! (I wonder if he still looks hot?)

So, all in all, a fairly boring couple of days but I enjoyed the quiet!

New Year's Affirmations

I got this email from my cousin,Vince, and thought I'd share with all of you. Sounds like a plan.


Alternative Affirmations...
It is a time of resolutions. I made one resolution many years ago and I have stuck to it. I resolved to no longer make resolutions. The following are some alternative affirmations for a new year.
At the end of one year and the start of another, many of us will renew our commitment to living with daily affirmations. I know the power of affirming my truth, over and over, everyday! While these may not suit everyone's taste, here are some "possible" affirmations to consider!

1. As I let go of my feelings of guilt, I am in touch with my inner sociopath.

2. I have the power to channel my imagination into ever-soaring levels of suspicion and paranoia.

3. I assume full responsibility for my actions, except the ones that are someone else's fault.

4. In some cultures what I do would be considered normal.

5. My intuition nearly makes up for my lack of wisdom and judgment.

6. I need not suffer in silence while I can still moan, whimper, and complain.

7. When someone hurts me, I know that forgiveness is cheaper than a lawsuit, but not nearly as rewarding.

8. I am at one with my duality.

9. Blessed are the flexible, for they can tie themselves in knots.

10. I will strive to live each day as if it were my 50th birthday.

11. I honor and express all facets of my being, regardless of state and local laws.

12. Today I will gladly share my experience and advice, for there are no sweeter words than "I told you so!"

13. A scapegoat is almost as good as a solution.

14. Just for today, I will not sit in my living room all day in my underwear. Instead, I will move my computer into the bedroom.

15. I will no longer waste my time reliving the past; I will spend it worrying about the future?

16. The complete lack of evidence is the surest proof that the conspiracy is working.

17. Before I criticize a man, I walk a mile in his shoes. That way, if he gets angry, he's a mile away and barefoot .

John's Cancer Update

I'm telling you.... real life ain't nothing like hospital shows on TV. On TV, someone is diagnosed with cancer and right away they are whisked into surgery and on the mend before the hour is over. The time span seems to be days. Uh-uh. Not in real life. In real life, as in John's case, it's taken weeks to get through all the tests and doctor appointments to get moving on treatment.

Briefly (I promise), John was diagnosed in June 2007 with Large Diffuse B-cell Lymphoma (aka non-hodgins lymphoma). We found out when he was having pains in his side and he thought it was his appendix. I took him to the ER at my hospital because he was visiting me at the time.
By the time all the CT scans and PET scans and lymph node biopsies and bone marrow tests were done and treatment began, it was the beginning of October! Now granted, John refused to begin testing until after our vacation in July because he thought it might be his last vacation. But that was a 3 week delay. He had 7 chemo treatments over a 6 month period and he was declared in remission by April 2008! We also found out at that time that his cancer was at Stage 4 because he also had a spot on his liver and a tumor on his spine. And by April it was all gone!!

So 6 months go by, all his hair has grown back, his strength is back (he was fortunate to be able to work through his chemo!), and he gets his 6 month series of CT scans and PET scans. We go to his oncologist who is supposed to tell us that Hurray! You are still in remission! Nuh-uh. Dr. Swaab (who we absolutely LOVE! The man is amazing!) tells us they found 2 spots on his spleen and they want to do biopsies. It might not be cancer but the radiologist who read the scans is fairly sure it is cancer.

Now because John is retired Army, he has Tri-care Insurance (John calls it try-to-get-care insurance) and my hospital is "not a part of their network" so he has to go to Abington Hospital for any testing and/or surgery. Now Abington Hospital is fabulous but his doc is at Pottstown Hospital (which is affiliated with Fox Chase Cancer Center)! John had to fight to keep Dr. Swaab as his doctor. It's just a pain to have to get everything faxed and the docs have to keep calling each other with info, etc.

So now FINALLY John has an appointment to have his spleen removed on January 12, 2009. They were going to try to do a biopsy on the spots but it's kinda hard to do on the spleen because it's a mushy organ. The 2 doctors have agreed that removing the spleen in one piece is the best bet to be able to test it to see if there is cancer there. Also, removal is the course of treatment if it is, indeed, cancer. And they can't remove it laproscopically because the spleen will fall apart during removal. Nice, huh. What I don't know at this point is if he'll need chemo or radiation after the surgery. John will miss 2 to 4 weeks of work to recuperate.

So January and February should be very interesting for us.

Cat lady?? (Lord, this is longer than I expected!)

Growing up and the entire time I was married, we were never allowed to have pets. Oh, there were times we had parakeets and the time my daughter's boyfriend gave her a bunny (he lived in the garage ... the bunny, not the boyfriend) but we never could have dogs or cats.

My ex and I split up in 2005 and by that summer, my youngest, Dani talked me into getting a kitty. I didn't even know I liked cats... I was just really pissed at my ex and he hated cats. So in August 2005, I traded in my ex for a gray striped tabby/siamese mix we named Cameron. The day we got him at Diane's Pet Shop, there were 2 kitties, siblings. Dani said, "How do we decide which one to get?" With that, Cameron hopped up and trotted right over to the door, as if to say, "ME! Pick me!!!" So we get Cameron home, and I keep thinking about that other poor little kitty we left at the pet shop. Two days later, we go back to get his sibling and he's already been adopted. Cammie's a loving little kitty, loves to be petted, loves to hop on the table, attacks my tunafish salad when I try to eat it (to this day he still does that!). Most of this behavior stops when he gets neutered several months later. I tried to keep him as an indoor cat but this kitty LOVES to be outside and he finally won that battle.

Two months after we get Cameron, Dani and I go to the PetSmart that just opened to get some stuff for Cameron. I didn't know they had a Cat Angel Network there. So as I'm checking out the collars and toys, etc., Dani is falling in love with this black short-haired domestic kitten. His name is Mason and he has a brother, Dixon (Dixon is a gray tabby). So Dani wears me down (I'm still in newly separated mode and giving this kid everthing she asks for because her dad left and I feel guilty about it) We talk to the lady at CAN, but she says Mason and Dixon are supposed to be adopted together since they came from the same home and the former owner wanted them to stay together. I really didn't want both cats... I already have one at home. She takes my name and we leave. A few days later, the CAN lady calls me and tells me she has someone who wants only Dixon and she already has a cat and since I already have a cat, I can take Mason if I want. After all, each kitty will be with another kitty. So we go back to PetSmart and get Mason and bring him home. I learn later it's unusual to get kittens at the Cat Angel Network because they mostly get full-grown cats. Either that or the kittens go so quickly, you rarely see any there.

We bring Mason home, introduce him to Cameron. Cam sniffs him all over and then proceeds to chase this poor little kitten all over the house! Mason finally runs up INSIDE my recliner sofa and we can't get him out! We had to cut the back of the sofa open to get him! I keep Mason in my office, just off the family room for 3 days with litter and food dishes. Finally, I decide to hell with this! You two are going to just have to learn to get along and I let Mason out and hope for the best. It was funny to see.... Cameron clearly had the upper paw and chased that poor cat all over. Then, one day, Mason decides enough is enough. He hid on one of the dining room chairs and pounced right on Cameron and gave him some right back! They now roll around and bite each other... just like real brothers!

Mason was afraid to go out for the longest time but now he cries at the back door for me to let him out. He mostly likes to go out at night but Cameron likes to go out during the day. It's like they take shifts! One comes in, one goes out!

Over time, we realize that Cameron is Dani's cat and Mason is mine. Nothing scares Cam.... just try to make him take off running and he looks at you and laughs. Mason, on the other hand, is afraid of his own shadow! He runs to the basement every time someone comes in the front door! I often wonder what happened to him before we got him. His tail is crooked too like it had been broken.

OK, fast-forward 3 years. I go into the nail salon to get my nails done and Sam (my nail tech) is there, holding this teeny little kitty. He's only 2 weeks old and they found him at the garage where they get their cars serviced. The mama died and they are tying to find a home for this little guy. Sam says just hold him while I do your nails. NO Sam! I already have 2 cats at home. I don't need a third one! sigh. So I'm holding this little kitty and he's climbing up to my shoulder and promptly falls asleep. He is soo teeny!!!! Within the hour, I'm driving home with nice red nails, a brown kitty and 2 cans of pet formula. Did I mention that I have to feed him every couple of hours from a baby bottle that looks like it's for a dolly? And I have to teach him how to poop because his mommy died before she could do that????

I give this as yet unnamed kitty a bath in Dawn dishwashing liquid and discover he's black, not brown (dirt from the garage) and loaded with fleas! How can they get so flea-infested in such a short time? Within a few days I take him to the vet to be checked out, discover he's a boy and he says he's doing well in spite of losing his mother so young. My older daughter's boyfriend, Gene thinks we should name in Java because he's the color of black coffee, so that's what we do (I was going to name him Sam whether he was a boy or girl) . At first Gene suggested Juan Valdez lol. A few weeks later, we begin to see gray stripes show up on his coat, so he's part back-haired and part gray tabby... a mix of both of my other cats!

Since Java was so young, he was living in my bedroom and bathroom. When I brought him home, Cameron (the bully) sniffed him and then started hissing and growling! Oh No! Mason, as usual, ran away and hid. (big wuss) I had to take Java with me to John's so I could take care of him, so he got used to travel fairly quickly.

Java is now 4+ months old and still living in my bedroom and bathroom. Cam is not a fan and I let him out for a few hours and when I came home, Java's eye was bleeding where Cam had swiped at him. Java just wants to hang out with his big brothers! He chases after them all the time. He didn't get to do that with his siblings. He's just looking for attention! Java likes to bite feet and that get real annoying! I hope it stops when he gets neutered! I tried a water gun, swatting him, nothing works. He thinks I'm playing with him. I have to keep him in my bathroom at night so I can get some sleep. I do let him out in the rest of the house for a while each day. He likes the Christmas tree (surprisingly, the other 2 cats leave it alone and always have). Dani calls him Satan. She doesn't like him.

One of the funniest thing this kitten does is jump into the shower with me! And if the water is running in the sink, he wets his paw and bathes himself! Goofy cat!

Anyway, I'm really afraid I'm turning into a cat lady. I'm not sure what to do about the Cameron/ Java thing. Any advice? ideas?

Italian Christmas Eve

OK, so as not to confuse anyone, this is a story someone sent me via email and I thought it was very amusing and decided to post it. Hahahaha!!!!!! OK, here it is:


I thought it would be a nice idea to bring a date to my parents' house on Christmas Eve. I thought it would be interesting for a non-Italian girl to see how an Italian family spends the holidays. I thought my mother and my date would hit it off like partridges and peartrees ... I was wrong!

I had only known Karen for three weeks when I extended the invitation. 'I know these family things can be a little weird,' I told her, 'but my folks are great, and we always have a lot of fun on Christmas Eve.' 'Sounds fine to me,' Karen said. I told my mother I'd be bringing Karen with me. 'She's a very nice girl and she's really looking forward to meeting all of you.' 'Sounds fine to me,' my mother said. And that was that. Two telephone calls. Two sounds-fine-to-me. What more could I want?

I should point out, I suppose, that in Italian households, Christmas Eve is the social event of the season -- an Italian woman's reason for living. She cleans. She cooks. She bakes. She orchestrates every minute of the entire evening. Christmas Eve is what Italian women live for. I should also point out, I suppose, that when it comes to the kind of women that make Italian men go nuts, Karen is it. She doesn't clean. She doesn't cook. She doesn't bake. And she has the largest breasts I have ever seen on a human being! I brought her anyway.

7 p.m. -- we arrive.

Karen and I walk in and putter around for half an hour waiting for the other guests to show up. During that half hour, my mother grills Karen like cheeseburger on the barbecue determines that Karen does not clean, cook, or bake. My father is equally observant. He pulls me into the living room and notes, 'She has the largest breasts I have ever seen on a human being!'

7:30 p.m. - Others arrive.

Zio Giovanni walks in with my Zia Maria, assorted kids, assorted gifts. We sit around the dining room table for antipasto, a symmetrically composed platter of lettuce, roasted peppers, black olives, anchovies and cheese....no meat of course. When I offer to make Karen's plate she says, 'No Thank you.' She points to the anchovies with a look of disgust.... 'You don't like anchovies?' I ask. 'I don't like fish, Karen announces to one and all as 67 other varieties of seafood are baking, broiling and simmering in the next room. My mother makes the sign of the cross. Things are getting uncomfortable. Zia Maria asks Karen what her family eats on Christmas Eve. Karen says, 'Knockwurst.' My father, who is still staring in a daze, at Karen's chest, temporarily snaps out of it to murmur, 'Knockers?' My mother kicks him so hard he gets a blood clot. None of this is turning out the way I'd hoped.

8:00 p.m. - Second course.

The spaghetti and crab sauce is on the way to the table. Karen declines the crab sauce and says she'll make her own with butter and ketchup. My mother asks me to join her in the kitchen. I take my 'Merry Christmas' napkin from my lap, place it on the 'Merry Christmas' tablecloth and walk into the kitchen. 'I don't want to start any trouble,' my mother says calmly, clutching a bottle of ketchup in her hands. 'But if she pours this on my pasta, I'm going to throw acid in her face.' 'Come on,' I tell her. 'It's Christmas. Let her eat what she wants.' My mother considers the situation, then nods. As I turn to walk back into the dining room, she grabs my shoulder. 'Tell me the truth,' she says, 'are you serious with this tramp?' 'She's not a tramp,' I reply. 'And I've only known her for three weeks.' 'Well, it's your life,' she tells me, 'but if you marry her, she'll poison you.'

8:30 p.m. - More fish.

My stomach is knotted like one of those macrame plant hangers that are always three times larger than the plants they hold. All the women get up to clear away the spaghetti dishes, except for Karen, who, instead, lights a cigarette. 'Why don't you give them a little hand?' I politely suggest. Karen makes a face and walks into the kitchen carrying three forks. 'Dear, you don't have to do that,' my mother tells her, smiling painfully. 'Oh, okay,' Karen says, putting the forks on the sink. As she reenters the dining room, a wine glass flies over her head, and smashes against the wall. From the kitchen, my mother says, 'Whoops.' More fish comes out.

After some goading, Karen tries a piece of scungilli, which she describes as 'slimy, like worms.' My mother winces, bites her hand and pounds her chest like one of those old women you always see in the sixth row of a funeral home. Zia Maria does the same. Karen, believing that this is something that all Italian women do on Christmas Eve, bites her hand and pounds her chest. My Zio Giovanni doesn't know what to make of it. My father's dentures fall out and chew a six-inch gash in the tablecloth.

10:00 pm. - Coffee, dessert.

Espresso all around . A little anisette. A curl of lemon peel. When Karen asks for milk, my mother finally slaps her in the face with a cannoli. I guess it had to happen sooner or later. Karen, believing that this is something that all Italian women do on Christmas Eve, picks up a cannoli and slaps my mother with it. 'This is fun,' Karen says. Time passes and believe it or not, everyone is laughing and smiling and filled with good cheer -- even my mother, who grabs me by the shoulder, laughs and says, 'Get this bitch out of my house.' Sounds fine to me.

THE END

My favorite Irish quotes

"Tabhair póg dom, táim Eireannach."

"May those who love us, love us. May those who don't love us, may God turn their hearts. And if He can't turn their hearts, may He turn their ankles so we'll know them by their limping."

"Bless your little Irish heart, and every other Irish part."

"May you always walk in sunshine. May you never want for more. May Irish angels rest their wings right beside your door."

"May you never forget what is worth remembering, nor ever remember what is best forgotten."

"The Irish ignore anything they can't drink or punch."

"Only Irish coffee provides in a single glass all four essential food groups; alcohol, caffeine, sugar and fat." ~Alex Levin

"Irish altzeimer's. You forget everything except the grudges." ~Judy Collins

"If you're lucky enough to be Irish, then you're lucky enough."

Merry Christmas!!!

It's 12:01 AM, so Merry Christmas!!!!

I had my daughter, Gina and her boyfriend here for dinner for Christmas Eve, my son arrived around 9 (although he's off with his buddies at the 24-hour diner down the road), my youngest is here, chatting on her computer. The bitter cold is gone.. as a matter of fact, it's kind of warm outside now (57 degrees!)!

I got a nice warm coat from my significant other for Christmas, cute earrings and a very nice ornament from Gina and Gene. Tim and I made a pact not to wrap each other's gifts since neither one of us was ready for that. Dani is broke so she didn't contribute this year.

I'm enjoying some nice Cabernet Sauvignon and tomorrow John and I will be heading to Philly for dinner with is brother. On Friday, we'll be celebrating my daughter, Dani's 18th birthday!
Hard to believe all my kids are legally adults now!

I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas Day!

Twelve Days of Christmas, humorous

This is one of my favorite Christmas stories. Poor poor Agnes.

My Darling,
I went to the door today and the postman delivered a "Partridge in a pear tree." What a thoroughly delightful gift. I couldn't have been more surprised. You're an angel.
With all my love and devotion,
Agnes

Darling,
Today, the postman brought your very sweet gift. Just imagine "Two turtle doves." I'm delighted at your very thoughtful gift. They are adorable and I love you for them.
All my love,
Agnes

Dear Fred,
Oh! Aren't you the extravagant one? Now I really must protest. I don't deserve such generosity as "Three French hens." They are just darling but I must insist, you've been too kind.
Love,
Agnes

Dear Fred,
Today the postman delivered "Four calling birds." Now really, they are beautiful but don't you think enough is enough? You're being too romantic.
Affectionately,
Agnes

Dearest Fred,
What a surprise! The postman just delivered the "Five golden rings"; one for every finger. You're just impossible, but I love it. Frankly, all those birds squawking were beginning to get on my nerves.
All my love,
Agnes

Dear Fred,
I couldn't believe my eyes this morning as I walked out onto the front porch and there were "Six geese a laying" on my front steps. So you're back to the birds again - huh? Those geese are huge. Where will I ever keep them? The neighbors are complaining and I can't sleep through the racket. I love your thoughtfulness, but -
Please Stop!
Cordially,
Agnes

Fred,
What's with you and those fucking birds??? Today I received "Seven swans a swimming." What kind of a goddamn joke is this? These birds shit all over the house and they never stop with that awful goddamn racket. I can't sleep at night and I'm a nervous wreck.
Stop your laughing damn you! It's not funny. Just knock it off with those fucking birds, OK?????
Sincerely,
Agnes

OK Buster,
I think I prefer the birds. What the hell am I going to do with "Eight maids a milking??" It's not enough with all those birds and the 8 maids milking, but they had to bring their goddamn cows! There is shit all over the lawn and I can't even move in my own house. Just lay off me, smartass!!
Agnes

Hey Shithead,
What are you??? Some kind of sadist??? Now I've got "Nine pipers playing" and Christ do they play! They haven't stopped chasing those maids since they've arrived this morning. The cows are getting upset and they're stepping all over the screeching fucking birds. What the hell am I going to do?? The neighbors have already started a petition to have me evicted.
You'll get yours, bastard,
Agnes

You Rotten Prick,
Who in hell needs "Ten ladies dancing??" I can't imagine why I call these sluts "ladies." They've been balling the pipers all night long. Now the cows can't sleep and all the goddamn racket around here has given them diarrhea. My living room is a river of shit! The Commisioner of Bldgs. has subpoenaed me to give cause why the building should not be condemned!
I'm sicking the police on you, asshole!
One who means it!!!

Listen Fuckhead,
What's with the "Eleven lords a leaping" on those maids and ladies??? Some of these poor broads will never walk again. The pipers ravaged the maids, gang-banged the ladies, and now are committing sodomy on the cows. All 23 birds are dead. They were trampled to death in the orgy. I hope you're satisfied, you rotten vicious bastard!
I hate your guts, dumbshit,
Agnes

Dear Sir:
This is to acknowledge your latest gift "Twelve fiddlers fiddling" which you have seen fit to inflict on our client, Miss Agnes McHolstein. As you no doubt have guessed, the destruction of her property was total. You are advised that all future correspondence with our client should be cleared through this office.
I feel compelled to warn you that if you should attempt to reach Miss McHolstein at Happy Dale Sanitarium, the attendants of that institution have instructions to shoot you on sight. With this letter please find attached a warrant for your arrest.
Season's Greetings,
J. Frank Cahole Attorney

Where were you when it happened?

Reading someone else's blog reminded me of this entry I posted on another blog I used to have a few years ago. So I thought I'd copy it to this one.

I don't think there is an American alive who doesn't know where he or she was and what they were doing when they heard the news about the attack on New York and Washington DC on September 11, 2001. I was driving to Kutztown, PA to my job at the restaurant my ex-husband and I owned. I was listening to Good Morning America on my car radio when Charlie Gibson reported a plane crashed into Tower 1, the North Tower of the World Trade Center. They didn't know it was intentional at that point. It wasn't long before the 2nd plane crashed into the South Tower and the world knew America was under attack. I rushed into work and put the TV on. The employees and I spent the better part of that day and indeed the rest of the week, absolutely glued to the TV, watching in horror as the government tried to get a handle on this horrific event. Our business took a major nose dive as Americans stayed in their homes, afraid to travel anywhere.

I have a friend who was in the air, flying home from France on business when the towers were hit and his flight was diverted to Canada. He somehow managed to get his hands on a car and he and a colleague drove home. It took hours to get over the Canadian border.

I knew 2 people who died that day. On the night of September 11, we got a phone call from Greg's sister, Rita. Rita's husband, Bryan had a sister named Deborah Jacobs Welsh. Debbie was the head purser on Flight 93 that crashed in Shanksville, PA. She was the first person to die on that flight. Debbie tried to keep the terrorists out of the cockpit and they slit her throat. What a shock it was to get that phone call! We didn't know Debbie well, but we saw her from time to time over the years when Rita would have a christening or First Communion party or something like that.

The second person I knew was Maria Behr. Mia worked as a Securities Trader at Cantor Fitzgerald in Tower 1. She is the sister of Dr. Edith (Delmi) Delmar Behr. Delmi's son was friends with my son, Tim. I remember Tim coming home from school on the 12th and telling me they can't find Max's Aunt Mia, that she worked in one of the towers. I told Tim they probably just can't get in contact with her because communication was really bad at that time. It wasn't long before we found out the awful truth, that Maria was in the Tower and that she did die that day. Mia was a beautiful, vibrant, sort of wacky woman who had so much going for her! She left this world way too soon.

Our restaurant was in a college town, and for most of that week, the place was like a ghost town. No one came out, whether they were afraid of more attacks or just glued to the TV for news. But that Saturday, we were so busy, with families... parents and their college children, coming in for lunch and dinner. You would have thought it was Parents' Weekend, but it wasn't. These kids had just gotten to school 2 weeks before and Parents' Weekend wasn't for several more weeks. It was just parents feeling the need to see their kids and spend time with them.

So that is my memory of September 11, 2001. It is a day that I will never forget. If you get a chance, visit Ground Zero in New York City. Say a prayer for those who lost their lives that day.... all the folks who were on those planes, the brave police and firefighters who entered those buildings, the people who worked in the towers, the brave military men and women who were working in the Pentagon in Washington DC. Pray for those heroic people on Flight 93 who fought the terrorists, knowing they were going to die, but realizing they must do this or many more would perish along with them. Pray for the loved ones left behind. Pray for the soldiers who are searching for Osama bin Laden in Afghanistan, that they find him and bring him to justice, one way or the other. Pray that something like this never happens again.

Good night.