Hey there, Grandma!

National Grandparents Day is a secular holiday celebrated in the United States since 1978 and officially recognized in a number of countries on various days of the year, either as one holiday or sometimes as a separate Grandmothers Day and Grandfathers Day.

Got that?  Can you believe I forgot? (so did my family!)

This year, the date fell on September 11th and most of the world was focused on the tenth anniversary of 9/11.  I realized that I didn’t give my very special friend a call in celebration of her first Grandmas Day.  Actually, I have two dear friends who are first-time Grammas but this one person holds a special spot in my life and that of my family.

I’ve blogged about her, told of a fund-raising MS Walk that a group of family and friends did on her behalf, in an earlier post about shoes.  Her name is Dotti; to me and many others, she is the most beautiful, loving Grandma anywhere!

 

Dotti won’t see this post because she doesn’t go on the internet but I will print it out and send her a copy.  Knowing her, she’ll giggle and coo over this photo where she holds her new Grandson shortly after he was born.  She’ll ask me how I got this picture and I’ll have to lie admit that I swiped borrowed it from her daughter-in-law’s Facebook album.  

As I look at the photo, I know exactly what’s going through Dotti’s head as she looks down at the baby and my heart breaks.  The cruelty of Multiple Sclerosis will rob her of the chance to easily take her Grandson out for a walk, or tumble around on the floor for playtime.  Knowing her, she’ll certainly try but, with each day as her illness worsens, it becomes more difficult.  It doesn’t affect the amount of love she has for this new life and no other Grandma has a glow that comes close to hers.

Not even me.

An accomplished Hairstylist, Dotti still loves to work and can do hair for hours on end; standing in one spot is easy but the MS can make other movements hard to navigate.  Her ability to drive a car hasn’t been compromised and she’s out constantly, visiting friends and, of course, her treasured Grandson.

Right now, if it were in my power to change many things for her, I would.   I want her to enjoy her loving family for years to come.  My wish is that this new little life carries Dotti’s loving spirit inside.. always.  I hope he has her wonderful laugh and concern for how everyone else is, never focusing on her own issues.  I hope she gets to take him to a pumpkin patch, to visit Santa and on a trip to Disney.

I hope.

 

 

 

 

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And the gloves come off!

Everyone who knows me will fully understand how I can’t let this go; it’s just not my nature.  At present, I’m blessed with 121 Followers and, once this post hits the web,  if I’m left with only 2, so be it.  It will only prove my point about people not wanting to face the truth about their shortcomings and each will continue to live with their heads up their rear ends. 

Enjoy and prosper in your ignorance!

Somewhere, almost everywhere, villages are missing their idiots.  Most of these wayward morons make their way to decent communities where, sadly, they procreate and further their idiocy.

School is back in session and with it, the juvenile politics that affect so many children.  It never changes.  I lived through it growing up when I attended a parochial school that was in a predominantly Irish parish.  I was…Italian/English and a scant amount of Irish, a “mutt”, a minority in the eyes of the other kids as well as  the Ursuline nuns who were our teachers.  Worse yet, my father was a non-Catholic.  Each and every day, I stood, humiliated, while the daily prayers always included a special request to God for “the conversion of Patricia’s father”.

Dudes!  Hello?  He didn’t want to become a Catholic!

That was another thing.  Patricia is not my legal given name.  It’s Patty Ann but, the holy women felt it had Pagan overtones so they insisted on calling me Patricia and forced me to write that name on all my papers.  However, we had a “Bunny” in our class with some special Papal dispensation that allowed her to be addressed as such because she and her parents were pure-bred, with papers, and big contributors to the school.

Where am I going with this?

Right here > to this rant about….Passive Bullying, a term that I’ve coined and, if anyone uses it, you damn well better get my permission first! 

PB is torment that takes on a more distant approach but is still devastating to the person tagged for the abuse.   It’s a behind-the-back gossiping, hair-tossing, eye-rolling assortment of malicious behaviors that are part of adolescent physcological warfare directed at some unfortunate young person.   And…when such acts of malevolency involve any innocent child, my gloves come off faster than a dress on prom night.

Is there any parent reading this who cannot identify with the horrors of middle school?   Sure, the nastiness presents itself as early as pre-school and into the elementary school platform;  our children have all experienced the wrath of the poorly-raised child who lashes out at others.  Mind you, I’m not including any child with a mental or physical disorder who may unwittingly exhibit difficult behaviors and has parents who diligently involve themselves with that child’s coping skills on a daily basis.

What I do constantly question are the parental units who fail at their jobs, especially in their evident inability to raise children with tolerance and kindness to others.  It all starts in the home and that is where all the blame for the evolution of a bully takes place. 

Yes, mom and dad…it starts with YOU!

Don’t feed me any bullshit about these tween years and all that goes along with the insanity being just a rite of passage.  That is nothing more than a lame excuse for parental laziness in not laying down the laws of decency to their spawn. 

  • When any parent refuses to meet a situation involving their child at least half-way with personal relationships as well as school performance in academics…they fail, the kids fail!
  • When a parent neglects to admit that their child behaves in ways that are hurtful to others, instead passing it off to “kids will be kids” crap…they continue to help the monster-mentality to flourish and, again…they fail, the kids fail!

Okay, Patty, time to cut to the chase about the basis of this rant.

Kid’s birthday parties…not always a happy event because of….parents!

Point:  One of my grandsons recently invited a group of friends to his party.  Out of ten invitations sent maybe three parents responded.  Three!!   Try and explain that ignorance to a little boy who was so looking forward to a day at the beach and a fun picnic with his school friends.  These dumb-assed parents just had to call or even e-mail with a simple “yes” or “no”…most did nothing.  

Know what?  You all suck!

Point:  More recently, another grandchild was excluded from being invited to a party of a close friend.  Others who were invited were cautioned…”not to tell.”  Stupid, stupid parents!  You all fail to realize that the very moment you tell a child not to do something, they will turn around and do the opposite.  Especially the little “cattylysts” in the group; the two-faced gossip-mongers who, even at young ages, take great delight in taunting other children any way they can.

“Cattylysts” is another of my coined words…ask before you borrow.

The mother responsible for this drama, of course, gave a predictable, pathetic, excuse about other kids also not being invited and that the parents of the kids who were included had no idea of who was…or wasn’t.  Really? 

It was a parent who passed the “no tell” warning along…to me!  Consider yourself snagged!

In the end, the above guilty mother feels that kids need to work on their own friendships, parents shouldn’t intervene.  Again, really?  Got news for you, tootsie…you are solely responsible for the quality of kid that you’re raising and the kind of relationships they involve themselves with.  A child that is being brought up to treat others decently does not perpetuate lies and gossip, causing Passive Bullying to spread like a disease.  A parent who doesn’t step in and monitor the friendships of their children is in for many unhappy surprises in the future as their kids will never grow to be truly productive human beings.  Sending children out into this twisted world with all this moral turpitude but without a structured sense of values speaks volumes about the overwhelming lack of parental responsibility in present times.

By all means, question the hatred in this world and wonder why people act as they do towards others.  

Then, go look in the mirror for your answers. 

 

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And I remembered…

As I sat down to write this post, I was fuming, over an unkindness, one of those malicious events that are all too common where children are concerned.  What was it about?  Ignorance.  Blatant stupidity on the part of a parent which dictated the inexcusable behavior of several children towards someone I love dearly.

The rage inside of me was escalating.  I was so ready to blast each of the individuals involved but then stopped.

And I remembered…

Ten years ago today, ignorance, anger and the quest to destroy innocent lives played out in front of our eyes as surreal images stared back from our television screens.  The Twin Towers became a heartbreaking and painful realization for the civilized world who watched, cried, and tried to understand why.  We couldn’t fathom how could anyone be so cruel and have no respect for decent human life, we couldn’t understand the intense hatred against our country.

I won’t try to analyze the mentality of the common terrorist, to do so would be an attempt to make sense of, or even excuse, the psyche and subsequent actions of a murderer.  The anger churned inside my chest as I thought back.  Again, I stopped.

And I remembered…

Ten years ago, I sat with my middle daughter and held my two year old granddaughter as we watched a nightmare unfold; we knew from that point forward our lives would never again be the same.  I looked down at my squirmy, bubbly little grandchild and my heart was overcome with fear for the future she would face.   Her rightful freedoms would now be challenged at every turn, for the rest of her life.   I wept as she looked up at me. 

And I remembered…

Today, on the anniversary of this horrific event, my husband’s club held a yearly camping event for its members and children; something that is always planned around 9/11.  Families and friends gather to enjoy quality time together and thank God that we are able to do this, that we are alive and together.  Some of the kids who attended were toddlers or just entering school ten years ago, they were insulated from the pain that we witnessed.  Last evening, the children ran around club grounds, playing and having fun while the adults sat around the bonfire and recalled, once again, where they were on that fateful day ten years ago.

Early this morning, I prepared breakfast for everyone and a group of teens gathered in the clubhouse as Alan Jackson’s “Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning?” played on the radio.  I listened to the kids as they talked and one asked me where I was that day and what it felt like as I heard the news.  Another boy explained that his parents didn’t talk about it much, what he learned about 9/11 was through conversations in school, on the Internet and television.   So I sat down with them and shared my experience of that September day,  how I drove into work, more focused on the car radio than the trip itself, one hand on my cell phone talking to my husband about his only brother who was at Five World Trade Center. 

Immediately, the boys wanted to know if he made it out alive.  I told them that he did but we didn’t know that fact until hours later; my brother-in-law somehow managed to walk away from the collapsing towers, for more than 16 miles, to Van Cortlandt Park in the Bronx, where he was found, sitting in a state of shock.   The boys around the table just shook their heads and almost all asked at once if I thought the United States would ever be attacked again. 

How do you properly address those fears?  How can you assure anyone that they will be safe from any type of disaster?  All I could say to these boys was that there are no simple answers other than to trust that our government will exhaust every means of security to keep us from harm and to preserve our freedoms.  The hatred and jealousies of outsiders cannot be stopped but we must never allow ourselves to succumb to the bullying tactics of such militant extremists.

This morning, I was angry over a petty childhood incident.  It doesn’t matter now and those involved aren’t worth losing sleep over.  This morning, a small group of young people made me realize things that truly are significant; they reminded me of the importance of this day.

And, with them, I remembered.

 

                           

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