A father for Father’s Day

Maybe I am just one of those unexplained mysteries in life. Maybe because I always wondered about my biological father. Maybe that is why I have been so lucky in my life having two “fathers”.

My sons’ father is the best father and grandfather I have ever seen.  His unconditional love, his self-sacrificing dedication and his ability to keep giving and giving can not be denied.  I believe that the word, “no” is just not a word to him.  He has always said “yes” to the needs of his children, and for that matter to me as well.  Fathers like Rocco are rare, but I know there are a few out there. For instance, my son, Rocky is a dad like his father.  He has the same inner ability to love his daughter so completely and unconditionally. As she grows, I hope she realizes more and more how very wonderful he is and how dedicated he is to her.

My “dad”and my “brother” raised me to be a person who is true to herself, kind to others, and to care about the world around me. My “dad” passed when I was sixteen years old.  My brother is still the one I look to for answers.  Whether or not he reaizes it, he is still the one I depend on.

Today I want to tell you about my brother, Tommy.

If one could picture the life of a person when they were a child and to realize that what they have been through is no life for any child, then they would know that the man I know as Tommy, who came out of that life better and stronger, is in itself miraculous.  They would know that this wonderful man is the most selfless, loving, hard-working man that was ever born.

It was a tough life when my brother was a small child.   His father was an alcholic and the venom from this sickness took its ugly poison out on my brother and his siblings.  Without going into too much detail, let me suffice to say Tommy took the brunt of that venom.  It became so bad that for a time his mom sent him to live for awhile to her sister so he could escape the onslaught. When I was born Tommy was ten years old.

I turned seven when I first started to notice who it was that was nurturing me and making sure I had everything I needed, like food, clothing and shelter. Tommy was now seventeen and graduated High School.  He was also the protector for my “mom” and me.  Ever since he was able to work he made sure our mom and me were taken care of.

Life wasn’t all bad. He was also a prankster and a loyal friend.  Some of the funniest episodes I ever heard were about the pranks my brother would pull on his family, friends and co-workers.  When our sister, Joanie passed away at the age of twenty-nine from complications after brain surgery to remove a tumor, she left two small babies behind.  One was two years old and the other was six months.  While their dad had to keep working, my mom took them in to live with us in our six room tenement apartment in Park Slope.  They spent Monday through Friday with us and their dad took them on the weekends.  Tommy immediately took on the role of dad to them during those days and had always taken that role on for me.  Yes, our siblings helped as well.  There was after all, eight of us altogether. I was the youngest.  I recall Tommy taking us to the World’s Fair in Flushing, Delancy Street in Manhattan for clothes, and to the local theatre for movies, etc. If we had any treats or toys it was Tommy who bought them. When the boys turned seven and five, their dad remarried a wonderful woman named Eileen. Together they brought the boys to live with them, of course, leaving us left us with  heavy hearts because they were more like brothers and sons to us.  Years later we now know that it was best for them to leave and have a life with their own dad and stepmom.  However, I was still there and Tommy became more like a dad to me than ever and when “daddy” died, it was Tommy who pulled me through just as he did when we lost “mommy” and then did the same when we lost two more of our sisters and our niece. He pulled me out of so many childhood and young adulthood mistakes. He helped me when sickness befell my baby boy, he helped me when I thought I would sink from financial disaster. I cannot recall one time in life good or bad when Tommy wasn’t right there, or just a phone call away.  He is the one constant in my life.  The person to whom I owe everything.

By now you must have surmised why I chose to write this Father’s Day tribute to my wonderful brother Tommy.  There just isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of him or even talk to him.  He has always been my confidant, my advisor, my father in every sense of the word.  Even though I am a grown woman, wife, mother, grandmother, sister, aunt, cousin, friend..none of those titles would have been possible without Tommy in my life.  He is officially “my brother” but everything he has ever done for me is something a great dad would do.  So I want to tell him Happy Father’s Day and that even though he chose not to have children of his own, he has helped raise and has given to all his sisters, nieces and nephews so very much that the title Father belongs to him.

He never truly gets the recognition and appreciation for everything he has always done from his heart, so this small tribute is my way of saying thank you with all my heart for being the best real Dad I never really had.

Happy Father’s Day, Tommy.

And that’s the Way I See It, here in Brooklyn.

K

 

 

 

 

New Year

It’s been quite awhile since I posted anything on my blog. I haven’t had much oomph lately nor much inspiration for my thoughts. I am hoping that in this New Year I will receive insight that will open up avenues that will be of interest to those who follow my thoughts in words on paper.

So much goes on during the holiday season that I get lost in the hoo

pla of it all and my mind is a bevy of ideas and projects. Not that I did very much except gift buying, decorating and bit of baking. All but a fraction of what I used to accomplish. As a matter of fact, the Christmas decorations are still outside my house. It’s been too cold and snowy this January to get them down and put away. Maybe by St. Patrick’s Day!

Just wanted to touch base a bit and let my followers know I’m still alive and kicking.

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As soon as the words come flowing…..this blog of mine will be growing. See you soon.

And that’s the Way I See It, here in Brooklyn!
K

Befuddled

 

Hi! I know it has been a while since I wrote on my blog. Lately, life has taken a curve and my thoughts have been preoccupied with family woes. I would much rather be optimistic in my posts and write about happier moments and thoughts than the ones I am experiencing as of late. So for those of you who follow this blog and for those of you who care….I hope to be back soon with some joyful posts, some serious posts and some posts that make you ponder! Meanwhile, happy Labor Day one and all!

And that’s The Way I See It here in Brooklyn,
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The good with the bad

Well Mother’s Day was lovely.  The weather was perfect and the children were wonderful.  We went to Prospect Park after brunch and I had an opportunity to see the beauty of the Park I grew up around.  It has changed somewhat, but remains lovely.  We went by the lake and I was able to sit on a bench and look at the calmness of the water which is home to some ducks, swans and other water fowl.  It was very crowded yet peaceful at the same time.  For the past four days I have been paying the price however.  My body is trying to regain some strength.  Somehow I caught something else to deal with…a sore eye.  I developed some type of sore on the lid and it is affecting the left side of my face. As much as I love and enjoy outings, they don’t return the favor any longer.  Whenever, I venture to go somewhere, the next three to four days I spend recuperating, but I am not complaining, more like venting.  I long for the days when I could walk faster, move faster, get five things done at the same time.  I wish a simple beautiful day such as Mother’s Day didn’t leave me feeling as if every drop of energy was drained from my body.  Now that the nicer weather is upon us, I would love to be outside enjoying nature and people, but I fear I face another summer stuck indoors or only as far outside as my porch.  The few times when I can get out and get a ride in the car is a gift to me these past fifteen months.  I wish I learned to drive all those years ago, but now it is too late for wishes and the reality of my present life looms before me.  I am grateful for so many things and frightened by others.  I suppose one must take the good with the bad.  I try to do that every single day.  Every once in awhile though I do become a bit despondent and long for those days when I didn’t have to think about the good or the bad, they were just there.  Those days when all that occupied my thoughts were the day to day operations of my employment and what was for dinner and if we would watch TV or finish a project for the house, or go out somewhere.  All those day to day things are gone now and one day folds into the other, passing in the same way.  I suppose my limitations are pronounced this week because I fell into the fantasy that perhaps I could be my old own self again.  I woke up though as soon as Monday arrived.  I look around my house and see so many projects that I wish I could do.  I have the itch to garden at this time of year, but I must wait for assistance for all I can do these days is supervise from a chair and even that doesn’t last very long before I tire out. When people see me they tell me “how good I look”, I think that has always been a sort of curse with me, from the outside, one would never know that anything at all was wrong with me.  It is all hidden beneath my skin, this debilitating, life stealing monster that consumes my physical being and zaps my abilities and energy on a daily basis.  I don’t mind most days because I dislike crying about woes in general.  So today seems to be a good day.  At least I can type today and write on my blog.  The weather is nice, the sun is shining and I am basking in its warm through my window.  I am grateful for everyday though one would not think so from today’s post.  I am glad that Mother’s Day and all holidays only come once a year for I fear that anymore than that would make me into a terrible crank who does nothing but vent….and that is not something I want to be.  So I hope you bare with me while I think of inspiration to post about things other than myself and I truly begin again with the cycle of taking the good with the bad.

And that is the Way I See It here in Brooklyn,

K