Looking Back

How often do we hear someone dish out advice like a heaping spoon of gravy,
 ``The past is in the past; move on, forget about it, it`s over, what`s done is done...`
All true.
Yet, sometimes we have to look back to move forward.
Finding closure is the key.  We cannot change what happened but certainly we can use it to make wiser decisions. This gives our lives new meaning.
We are not perfect creatures.
We are fallible.
It is in accepting and changing our imperfections that we define ourselves.
It is in forgiving that we are forgiven.
This Christmas season heal an old hurt, bridge a broken road, forgive and find peace.


Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place.
Kurt Vonnegut

The Kitchen Table

Most of my fondest memories of childhood float around the kitchen table.

This one simple piece of furniture is the keeper of our families dreams, sorrows, joys, accomplishments, tales... How many have we shared gathered around this table?

Imagine the weight it bears; breakfasts, lunches, dinners, holidays, birthdays, homework, adversity, discourse and even arguments!

It is a homes most treasured possession.

Families are bonded around these tables; nurturing

 not only our bodies with the food they hold but our souls.

Life was simpler growing up in the 60's, 70's and 80's.

We were never rushing off to sports, tutors, after curricular activities. 

We went to school and we came home.

We helped to prepare meals, did our homework, ate together and kept our traditions.

Weekends were for visiting family and being a family.

No one lived too far and we were never too busy.
We cared to be together.

When my own children were little, Sunday's were reserved for visiting Grandparents; enjoying home made pasta!

It was our tradition; one small treasure in the midst of a mad world!

We never broke from our routine.

As they grew older, the bustle of life took over and were were pulled into the vortex of running around from rinks to soccer fields and the weekly Sunday visits became monthly ones which sadly became reserved to special occasions and occasional visits.

In retrospect, as a mother that was my biggest mistake; not holding my children to those visits.

I am the one who now waits for them to come for those Sunday gatherings around the kitchen table!

 If I could go back in time, I'd gladly exchange the rinks and fields for more gatherings.