So, I was asked when I would get happier in my blogs…..it’s coming.For now this is what my memory serves me so this is what I share.The raw truth.Many guests,dinners and lots of company as always.Funny enough I remember my mom lying on the couch in the sunken family room off to the back of the house with the fire roaring and the tv on…..probably watching The Lawrence Welk Show, Carol Burnett or The Pig and Whistle…those were the days right? She would ask me all the time to please rub her feet….and well need I say  more? Maybe, just maybe that’s why I crave a home with a sunken den and I chose to help people feel better through touching their feet! Our minds work in mysterious ways.I feel today that through my work in touching people and the invitation this welcomes to share their thoughts and their lives with me as they do I always have a little angel of luck sitting on my shoulder….sure hope so ! So,a memory I must share that has always stayed  with me.My mom was up north escaping from her life in town and the hurt.She loved it up north and chose to end her last living days there until forced by the Dr himself to come to town and enter the hospital.It was sad and I have always wondered where my little siss was through this and just recently she shared that she was there all alone with our sick mom….Well, where was I ?  Why was I not with her ? Why? I just don’t remember….it’s very painful to write all of this but I have the desire so here I am.I also know that deep in my heart that this will bring me closer to my little siss. It helps us understand how this has effected us and caused so much pain.My cousin was in from New Jersey that summer which made me so happy.We decided to come into town for something and when we got to the house there was someone there….Apparently my dad told my cousin Doreen, named after my mom,that it was the housekeeper and not to worry! I was mortified ,she was wearing a negligee and had curlers in her hair. I only put all of the pieces together afterwards.Probably after he secretly married her the month after mom passed and didn’t want my sister or myself to know…..that’s the next chapter…..stay tuned!

We often block times,events and people that have hurt us.Moving was painful and as I sit to write I find myself feeling very unsure of the events,the order of them and the time.The fortunate part is that I could always come back and change it up.Looking back I often feel like it wasn’t really my life it was someone elses.Maybe a common thing for many of us as we look back and cannot believe that all these years have passed us by and some of the events and people that have passed through.I have a very active mind that has trouble to rest.Apparently it’s even on full speed during the quiet hours of the night when we should all be sleeping soundly.The doors are always wide open sorting,planning,thinking,solving,worrying,wondering about people and their actions and questioning them and then myself.It is exhausting…..it’s all being worked on though which is the good news.Its never too late….until it’s too late! I remember the big stunning wooden double doors that were so inviting and took my breath away at the age of 11 ( maybe11?)….trying desperately to figure out the time line.As you entered in this house my first memory was that it was heaven……just a beautiful house.The problem was that it was never a home….and that the size,value and decor really had nothing to do with making any of us happy.To prove this is the times we each spent in this house and the unhappiness we each experienced.I was again reaching out for the food trying to find comfort and searching for an escape from my sadness,lonliness,fear and unhappiness….my mom escaped to our counrty home where her glass filled with a dark coloured liquid and ice cubes constantly clattering together had become her best friend and my dad,well sadly he was off finding interest in very young numbers….lets say 21 at the time.My sister was going through her hell that she later came out to share in her book “With All My Heart”..all to say your house must become your home…it’s the happiness that is created inside that makes it yours and that so makes it your home! Safe,warm,peaceful,relaxing…..home sweet home.

Fond memories of what came to be the home I so loved,the one I fall back to in search of the happy times…..the home filled with people,family from New Jersey that made my heart dance.The very loud backyard with folks having great times by the swimming pool.The Lebanese side partying in our living room dancing and the derbake ( Arabic drum) being played and folks singing  in Arabic and howling with laughter.Hours of begging my dad and Uncle George to take us ,my best friend ever in the whole wide, wide  universe  to Belmont Park…..at times we just had to play our card games over the phone.The shows we would put on for our parents and their friends and ask for money.The numerous card games in the basement.Hanging out in the sun room,playing games…..I close my eyes and feel safe although my relationship with food was born and grew at the very same time.Bittersweet…..So one last memory of this home that  I want to share for now was scrambling for coins and or bills in my moms purse,in drawers,on the counter and finally the best find of all my dads trouser pockets,I swear I’m in them right now,nervously searching for money and boy I struck gold.I was so excited to find not coins but a neatly folded bunch of bills…..I took the one hundred  dollar bill. What nerve I had? It was all good because he would never know because there were so many ! Right? WRONG! All I know is that I spent it on chocolate bars at Macy’s Drug Store….in Rockland Shopping Center.Could you imagine? I’m grateful that I have my own teeth at this point! What could I say? Why? Why? Why? I’m guessing it was my escape,I just didn’t feel like I belonged…..and more on this will come.So, have no doubt that my dad wasn’t a fool.He asked to speak with me in his very raspy,gruff and throaty voice.I was frightened to pieces.This is what I remember ,he was beside me in the spare room where he often napped during the day,he told me that because he was my father that this would be a lesson to learn from and understand that had it been anyone else I had stolen from that the police would be here and I’d be tossed in jail.Behind cold bars,dark and all alone.Holy everything, I was horrified and cried my heart out and said how sorry I was and this would never happen again..never,ever…..hmmmmmmm…..