tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88312710774488324842024-03-13T07:21:21.397-07:00365 Breathtaking MomentsTiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.comBlogger115125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-63014384155137919592023-03-22T05:48:00.001-07:002023-03-22T05:59:13.529-07:00Until we Meet Again<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XS4CmEMzbfI/YRYz8zWVcOI/AAAAAAAAGAs/AX321F0OLrwPiYAYNhmJzfqcdLfRerOZwCNcBGAsYHQ/s2048/DSC00458.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1771" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XS4CmEMzbfI/YRYz8zWVcOI/AAAAAAAAGAs/AX321F0OLrwPiYAYNhmJzfqcdLfRerOZwCNcBGAsYHQ/s320/DSC00458.JPG" width="277" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> This is my brother, Mauro Candido. </div><div style="text-align: center;"> In June of 2021 he passed away after a 7 year battle with lymphoma. His courage in the face of his illness was extraordinary.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He was a warrior.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="text-align: center;">He was 51 years old, far too young to die. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: center;">He left behind family and friends who cherished him. There is no fairness in his passing. Death doesn't care how old you are, how wealthy or poor. It cares nothing for your worldly position. </span></div><p style="text-align: center;">We are left shaking our heads wondering why? </p><p style="text-align: center;">We try to find comfort in knowing that he no longer feels pain. But that doesn't fill the void or give us peace when we long to hear the sound of his voice, one of his silly jokes, his laughter.</p><p style="text-align: center;">We have no choice but to move forward. We pick up the broken pieces and puzzle them back together. Each loss of a loved one leaves those pieces slightly faded and not quite right at the seam but none the less reassembled. We can fortify them with glue, the glue we find in the love of family and friends who see behind the smiles we present to the world.</p><p style="text-align: center;">What was his legacy? What will we remember of him, what unspoken message did he leave behind?</p><p style="text-align: center;">His legacy was love. </p><p style="text-align: center;">My brother lived life large and on his own terms. Maybe his soul knew his time on earth would be shorter than most. He taught himself to play the guitar like a rock star, he travelled, lived in the country, had big dogs, huge fish tanks, rode a motorcycle. </p><p style="text-align: center;">I honour my brother every day when I remember him. I speak his name, share his stories and carry a part of his soul with me. This is how I keep him alive.</p><p style="text-align: center;">It been a year and a half since his passing and I would be lying if I said it's gotten easier. </p><p style="text-align: center;">I still expect to see him walk through the door of our father's house, still expect to hear him on the phone saying, "What's up Tizzy." </p><p style="text-align: center;">My mother passed away a few years before my brother. I'm certain they are together.</p><p style="text-align: center;">Cherish every moment with the people you love. You never know when we will be called home.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p></div>Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-89136960517833687492018-10-15T02:10:00.002-07:002023-03-21T08:15:54.494-07:00Her Name is Mom<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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When we were young women, we were concerned with taking care of ourselves; getting an education, looking our best, having great friendships, finding the right guy, travelling, partying and overall looking out for "me".</div>
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We got married and most of us, at some point, decided to start a family.</div>
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When we found out we were preganant we committed to good nutrition, maybe a prenatal yoga class if we had the energy, a maternity wardrobe. We decorated the baby room like were</div>
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Martha Stewart's apprentices and read all the latest books that spewed regergitated advice on how to be a great, super fantastic, state of the art mother.</div>
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The truth is no book, no advice from the super mom squad pepared us for what was to come.</div>
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The minute our baby was born, we were lost. </div>
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Lost in a love that is more powerful than any force on earth or heaven.</div>
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The YOU, you were ceased to exist and you became "Mom".</div>
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That tiny baby holds your heart in the palm of their hand. They hurt, you hurt a million times more, they cry, you cry harder, they laugh, you laugh louder.</div>
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Every mistake they make you feel the pain.</div>
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Every accomplished they experience, you experience it more profoundly.</div>
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Sleep and peace of mind become elusive memories.</div>
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Your life is filled with homework, birthday parties and scrambling from one sporting event to the next.</div>
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You become a chauffeur, ATM machine, laundry service, and on demand personal assistant.</div>
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You do it all willingly.</div>
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The years buzz by faster than a supersonic jet streaking through the sky.</div>
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Eventually, and a lot faster than you think, that sweet chubby baby becomes a teenager, and worrying becomes your full time job! You worry incessantly about the poor choices they may make; drinking , drugs, sex, bad peer groups, driving. And you wonder why your hair falls outs, you have bags under you eyes and you feel exhausted 99.99 percent of the time!</div>
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The most difficult thing to accept is that you have little control over them. You can only hope that their frontal lobe is working better than most.</div>
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The day will come when they leave and chaos no longer reigns the home and you find yourself wondering who you are.</div>
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The sense of loss is profound.</div>
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You remember every moment. The bedtime stories, the goodnight kisses, family vacations, birthday parties, hockey and soccer games, the tears, the joys and everything in between. You wouldn't trade a single moment.</div>
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For so many years you were MOM!</div>
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Of course you will always be MOM, you will always worry and fret, but now you must find that girl who gave herself over to being MOM.</div>
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She is in there somewhere, waiting.</div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-69154723818054664682018-03-29T00:09:00.000-07:002018-03-29T00:09:03.229-07:00Believe that you are Wrong About Everything<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I recently read a book called <i>The Subtle Art of Not Giving A F.uck</i></div>
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Between laughing and nodding my head in agreement about a thousand times, I've come to realise that I really don't know much about anything and that most of the time I'm wrong about how I perceive things to be, in judging what other's actions mean and about most things in general.</div>
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Really?</div>
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Yes, really. Everything that we experience is tainted by our perception and past experiences and how we remember them. Memories change as they fade. We forget details so we add our own :), we embellish to give an experiences colour and flavour. It's not that we lie, it's just how it is.</div>
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Naturally, the events that hurt us the most, or the memories of the people who slight us are the ones that get the best editing. </div>
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Why? </div>
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Because it validates our indignation and hurt.</div>
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So here's the thing.</div>
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The book got me to wondering about many things.</div>
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Most importantly the amount of time I spend caring about things that don't really matter and worrying about things I have no control over.</div>
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Which is all so exhausting!</div>
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When children become adults and get married how much time do we spend worrying about if they eat fruits and vegetables, if they wear seat belts, go to their annual check ups, brush their teeth with an electric tooth brush, apply sunscreen. Honestly, the list never ends!</div>
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No matter how much preaching we do they don't listen and most likely make fun of our nagging when we're not there.</div>
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So don't give a f...</div>
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Worry about your own fruits and vegetables!</div>
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What goes around comes around and one day they will have children and look back and think, "shit now I know what my mother was talking about!" If you're lucky to still be alive, the last laugh will be yours.</div>
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Running down the long list of what you to give a f... about. </div>
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Siblings that don't get along and fail to see that life is a short ride and they're too busy caught up in the said, she did, he didn't do. Get over it, no one is perfect. We all screw up. Some more than others. And what's the truth of it anyways?</div>
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Employees who can't get the job done.</div>
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Why spend time trying to change a tree trunk that won't bend?</div>
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Instead of spending exhaustive hours complaining about them,</div>
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show them the door and move on to the next tree.</div>
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Friends make you feel like shit?</div>
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Find new ones.</div>
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That's right liberate yourself and find things that you give a f... about that matter in your new found list of things you give a f... about.<br />
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Thanks Mark Manson!<br />
Happy hunting my friends! </div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-60726543139660851382017-09-24T12:59:00.002-07:002018-02-28T23:51:27.303-08:00Slow down Just A Little!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I sat to chat with the father of a 14 month old and
listened to him tell me about the wonderful linguistics program he was
enrolling his daughter in.</div>
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“Can you believe she
can learn up to 5 languages in no time if she goes to this program!” </div>
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I saw how excited he was and I wondered if he would welcome
my unsolicited advice. I offered it anyway.</div>
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She will only be little for a short while. Before you know
it she will be off to elementary school where learning facts will be the rule
of the day. </div>
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The best gift you can give her is your time. Leave work
sooner than later so you can enjoy family dinners. Read bed time stories, enjoy
milk and cookies, visit an animal shelter, go to the park, run in the grass,
dip your feet into a stream and look for frogs, plant trees and gardens and watch
them grow. All this will teacher her to respect the natural world. As
she gets older show her how to care for others by taking up a cause and visit
nursing homes. </div>
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Remember the world is her classroom.</div>
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You are raising a global citizen and this takes nurturing.
The kind that no text book can give and no course can instill. It must come
from an investment on your part to be PRESENT in her life.</div>
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Too many parents are rushing from one activity to another
hoping to raise the next great one yet all the while forgetting the most
important foundations must be nurtured by parents and teachers in the early
years. </div>
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All is lost if we do not raise our children to be good people!</div>
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Show her compassion and she will learn to empathy.</div>
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Demonstrate acts of kindness so she will pay it forward.</div>
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Teach her tolerance and acceptance so she will respect differences.</div>
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Value her so she will learn that she matters.</div>
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This can’t be done if you’re
rushing from one structured activity to another.</div>
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This is not to say that organized sports, dance and art
classes have nothing to offer. They do just at the right time and not all at
the same time!</div>
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So slow down just a little. </div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-69930773932015223042017-02-10T05:47:00.002-08:002017-02-10T05:55:48.298-08:00Snowflakes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I woke up this morning a better version of myself and simply
grateful to be alive; watching the snowflakes dance their way to the ground
made me feel nostalgic.<br />
How did I get here, to 56?</div>
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Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was a child, much like the
ones who fill my schools; free, abundant, hopeful, and innocent?<br />
She is still with me,watching and hoping.</div>
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Most everyone lives for tomorrow but the past year has
taught me to live for now, this moment.<br />
It’s such a waste of precious time to
keep aiming for the prize-what prize I wonder?<br />
The next moment belongs to no man; people die, friends are lost, health
fails and greed consumes. </div>
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I’ve learned that advice is best served lightly and only
when requested.<br />
I give no council unless I’m asked and even then what right do
I have to influence another’s journey.</div>
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Perception is everything. No two people see circumstances in
the same way.<br />
Acceptance of our short comings, living the truth, gratitude and love
give us the best version of ourselves.<br />
Ego is destructive on so many levels and
shaded eyes and lies blind us to the true nature of the people we walk with.</div>
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Good people and bad people are placed in our path for a
reason. Sometimes it’s not always obvious why.<br />
Life has a way of revealing. </div>
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We have all lost and loved, laughed and cried, triumphed and
failed.<br />
This is our journey.</div>
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Blessed is to be surrounded by family and friends-past and
present-many or few.<br />
They are part of the story we’ve written and the one yet to come.</div>
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And if we are here to see the sun rise one more day then we
are the richest of men.</div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-71973163680950578282016-10-28T05:32:00.001-07:002016-10-28T05:45:55.651-07:00Time to Say Goodbye<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It isn't easy to let go of people, especially ones that have been part of your life story for more years than you care to remember.</div>
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I've found letting go of a woman I called my best friend challenging.</div>
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No matter how the journey ended, I'd be lying if I said that many of my memories of her were not filled with laughter, adventure, tears and challenges. </div>
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They were!</div>
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We survived so much together.</div>
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Our friendship was not perfect but then neither were we.</div>
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You think after 30 years we would have figured it out: how to be true to one another.</div>
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She taught me to laugh and for that I will always be grateful.</div>
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I'm not certain how we ended up here. Two women that began a friendship when they were barely into their twenties.</div>
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Maybe I do know, but those thoughts I will keep to myself.</div>
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I can only say that I am filled with regret and sadness-the loss has been profound.</div>
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Too many things were left unsaid.</div>
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I thought we would be Ethel and Lucy forever, full of our crazy antics,</div>
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but God had a different plan for us.</div>
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We only have each other to blame for this tragic ending; God handed us a gift and we squandered it. </div>
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Beyond the bitterness and anger of the she did this, she forgot this, this is mine... are the memories.</div>
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I will never forget her.</div>
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You go, I go!</div>
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I guess we forgot that promise.<br />
I bless her journey and hope God fills her life with abundance.</div>
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Cherish your friendships.</div>
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This life is but a brief spec in time.</div>
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Do not waste it with pride and vanity.</div>
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They make a lonely brew.</div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-74846539798518936562016-02-12T05:13:00.002-08:002016-02-12T05:18:56.081-08:00The Fork in the Road<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I'm certain most everyone wonders what life might have been had they chosen a different path.</div>
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One decision alters our course and the effect of that choice ripples, impacting not only the people we know, but the universe.</div>
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It's strange to think that one person in seven billion could have that kind of power.</div>
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We are all interconnected, a singular voice of humanity.</div>
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Each act we commit, knowingly or not, echoes through time.</div>
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Let's imagine you give a homeless person a hundred dollars and he uses it to clean up and go to a job interview. Had you ignored him he may not have lived another day.</div>
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Your phone rings, it's an old friend who weighs heavily on you. In that moment you decide not to answer. What happens?</div>
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You let someone into the line of heavy traffic and you save them from an accident.</div>
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You drive by an elderly person struggling with grocery bags. Do you stop to help, or not.</div>
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You meet two new people, decide to date the first one instead of the second. You later discover the one you passed on went on to become a famous novelist. </div>
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If we could map our lives, we would see the thousands of forked roads we've encountered, the number of times we chose one path instead of the other.</div>
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At the end of it all we can have no regrets. Each choice defined and refined us and we must believe that we are meant to be exactly where we are.</div>
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If our lives are enriched by the love of family and friends, if our careers are driven by passion then our roads have been well chosen.</div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;">“It's the ride of life the journey from here to there living and loving every moment like we have none to spare.” </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;">― </span><a class="authorOrTitle" href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14436201.Jess_Chief_Brynjulson" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 21px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">Jess "Chief" Brynjulson</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;">, </span><span id="quote_book_link_26865991" style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: left;"><a class="authorOrTitle" href="https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/46907716" style="color: #333333; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">Highway Writings</a></span></span></i></div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-50891346678905506462015-04-13T04:07:00.001-07:002015-04-25T05:25:03.520-07:00The Beautiful<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">The dictionary defines beautiful as possessing qualities that give great pleasure or </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">satisfaction</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">to</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">see,</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">hear,</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">think</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">about;</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">delighting</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">the</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"> </span><span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">senses or mind.</span></div>
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<span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">Do we all perceive beauty in the same way? Is one person's perception of that which is beautiful the same as another's?</span></div>
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<span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">I believe that beauty is in the eye of the beholder and beauty is seen in different ways by us all. </span></div>
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<span class="oneClick-link oneClick-available" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">Yet there are those who reside in an elite class who are beautiful to everyone. They possess a uniqueness, a perfection, an aura that captivates all beholders. It is to these people that doors open wide.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">Many years ago I came across a book that addressed the topic of how human beings, even as infants, respond to beautiful faces.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">Beautiful people, many times unknowingly on the part of the other, incite </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">more attention.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">are given more </span></span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;">opportunities.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">To know this type of beauty is a gift. To see it fade with age is a burden. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">Time is the master who gives no quarter.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">Physical beauty does not last forever. Even the beautiful wrinkle and the attention born of their beauty pales and they become invisible.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">The new beautiful are born.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">It is best to remember that</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">it is the beauty of the soul that transcends time.</span></span></div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-46101528399792099202015-01-31T10:16:00.002-08:002015-01-31T12:36:39.365-08:00Find Joy in the Ordinary<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Most of our time is spent in a state of the ordinary; doing those things we have to do to get by.</div>
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It is here in this place that we should find our deepest joy. Living for extraordinary moments to come to find that joy would be such a waste of life.</div>
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Yesterday morning as I drove to work along a hilly, isolated road, enveloped by the predawn darkness, brisk cold and falling snowflakes, I thought, "how beautiful is this moment?"</div>
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I was alone yet so connected to life.</div>
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A smile from a student, a greeting from a coworker, a hug from your children, a cup of coffee waiting at your desk, these are moments of joy.</div>
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Knowing that you are where you were meant to be, pursuing a dream, </div>
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being loved by others, all moments of joy.</div>
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Joy comes from knowing that somehow, even in the smallest measure, you have made someone's life richer.</div>
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Perhaps the greatest joy comes simply from being alive and being connected to that which makes you you, your spirit.</div>
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May your journey be blessed as you find your joy!</div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-78030314581442775072015-01-15T04:35:00.002-08:002015-01-15T04:35:34.867-08:00Tell Me Something Good!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Wouldn't it be wonderful if a more that a fleeting segment of the news was dedicated to uplifting human stories?</div>
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Mankind needs that.</div>
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Every time I watch the news I'm bombarded with atrocities, devastation, natural disasters, the depravity of men.</div>
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Surely there is so much more to the human condition than this.</div>
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Tell us good things, show us images of God's landscape, infuse our minds with hope.</div>
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If not then what is the purpose of life.</div>
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We should not live in fear but in grace, appreciating that the majority of people are good.<br />
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-65641076190734344082015-01-09T06:07:00.003-08:002015-01-09T06:07:40.250-08:00Do you Belong Here?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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From the minute we are born we are seeking to belong in this world. Finding our place among men is not easy. And if we are not round pegs then the difficulty of this journey is magnified ten fold. </div>
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One of the most challenging things to accept in life is that we will not always be welcome at everyone's table. </div>
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The group of girls in the playground may not like your hair and so they turn you away.</div>
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The cool clique in high school may think your clothes are dorky so they turn you away.</div>
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The people in your office think you're too smart, too good looking, too ambitious so they turn you away.</div>
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The academics snub their noses at your many years of experience so they turn you away.</div>
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Family members forget to call you, your supposed girl friends lose your number, professionals ignore your success and never acknowledge your work.</div>
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Your space at their tables is reserved for another.</div>
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And for awhile these people may defeat your spirit.</div>
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And then one day in a moment of pure clarity you see the truth.</div>
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They don't deserve to have you at their table.</div>
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In that moment you are freed.</div>
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So set your own table and invite only those who respect you, love you and appreciate you for the gift that you are.</div>
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And use a checkered table cloth :)</div>
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Have a great day!</div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-69027799086089900302015-01-04T04:16:00.000-08:002015-01-04T04:16:32.517-08:00Begin Anew<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Begin Anew</div>
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It's a New Year, a New Day, A New You!</div>
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We don't have to wait until the clock strikes twelve on December 31 to make new commitments to ourselves do we?</div>
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Maybe we do. </div>
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Somehow this one night has that kind of effect on many of us. </div>
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It gives us the opportunity to reflect on all that has come to pass in a year and to move forward and hopefully make some improvements.</div>
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What did you promise to do:</div>
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lose weight, travel, write a book, bridge a broken relationship, take care of your health...</div>
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There are so many choices.</div>
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I offer this.</div>
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Perhaps this year you can take your soul out of the box and stop living your life according to what people expect of you. Haven't you done enough of that?</div>
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Each life is just a whisper in time. None of us comes out alive so be true to yourself.</div>
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Live each day like you're going to a party. Celebrations only come once in awhile but life happens everyday.</div>
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Dress and look your best. </div>
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Speak kindly to others. Words are inexpensive.</div>
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Smile</div>
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Give freely</div>
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Love abundantly</div>
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Ask for what you what</div>
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Be fearless</div>
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Each day do one thing that feels right to you.</div>
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Nothing stays the same forever so embrace change.</div>
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And no matter what your faith, gives thanks for your blessings.</div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-4634964043205815972014-12-19T03:41:00.001-08:002014-12-30T04:33:07.618-08:00Looking Back<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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How often do we hear someone dish out advice like a heaping spoon of gravy,<br />
``The past is in the past; move on, forget about it, it`s over, what`s done is done...`<br />
All true.<br />
Yet, sometimes we have to look back to move forward.<br />
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.<br />
We are not perfect creatures.<br />
We are fallible.<br />
It is in accepting and changing our imperfections that we define ourselves.<br />
It is in forgiving that we are forgiven.<br />
This Christmas season heal an old hurt, bridge a broken road, forgive and find peace.<br />
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<i>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.</i><br />
<i>Kurt Vonnegut</i><br />
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-30251524627422517272014-12-14T05:14:00.002-08:002015-01-04T03:40:08.995-08:00The Kitchen Table<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Most of my fondest memories of childhood float around the kitchen table.</div>
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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?</div>
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Imagine the weight it bears; breakfasts, lunches, dinners, holidays, birthdays, homework, adversity, discourse and even arguments!<br />
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It is a homes most treasured possession.</div>
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Families are bonded around these tables; nurturing</div>
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not only our bodies with the food they hold but our souls.</div>
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Life was simpler growing up in the 60's, 70's and 80's.</div>
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We were never rushing off to sports, tutors, after curricular activities. </div>
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We went to school and we came home.</div>
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We helped to prepare meals, did our homework, ate together and kept our traditions.</div>
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Weekends were for visiting family and being a family.</div>
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No one lived too far and we were never too busy.<br />
We cared to be together.</div>
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When my own children were little, Sunday's were reserved for visiting Grandparents; enjoying home made pasta!</div>
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It was our tradition; one small treasure in the midst of a mad world!</div>
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We never broke from our routine.</div>
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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.<br />
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In retrospect, as a mother that was my biggest mistake; not holding my children to those visits.</div>
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I am the one who now waits for them to come for those Sunday gatherings around the kitchen table!</div>
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If I could go back in time, I'd gladly exchange the rinks and fields for more gatherings. </div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-90434156675328530622014-11-26T15:51:00.000-08:002014-11-26T16:14:56.630-08:00Is it the Season to be Jolly?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It's that time of the year again, when we all scramble to decorate our homes, buy the perfect gifts, host the best parties, bake cookies, take photos with Santa......</div>
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The question is just how jolly do we feel when we're running around doing all these things.</div>
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I for one, don't feel so jolly when I'm wandering around the mall aimlessly trying to buy gifts for loved ones who have just about everything.</div>
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So this year I promised that I would slow down and not <b>do </b>so many things; in fact over the last few years I've been systemically sloughing off Christmas madness.<br />
And it feels great!<br />
Last year, on Christmas Eve, in lieu of individual gifts our family participated in steal a gift which made us laugh for hours. That night we found joy in the merriment of the game, not in the gifts themselves.<br />
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I love the warmth of the season; when people are a little kinder and care to do for others.<br />
Shouldn't this always be our way of life?<br />
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No matter what our faith, it is a time to be grateful for all our blessings.<br />
And I am!<br />
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-56350883064490533862014-11-23T06:59:00.000-08:002014-11-23T16:30:45.206-08:00Sunday Morning Coffee and Memories<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Sunday Morning Coffee and Memories<br />
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A year and a half ago my oldest son, Daniel, left home. Seven months later my second son, Matthew, followed suit.</div>
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Was I ready?</div>
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I don't know. Is a mother ever ready?</div>
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The whirlwind of packing, buying furniture and setting up new homes, left me little time to think about what was happening. Although deep in my heart I knew that the "busyness" was my way of keeping the heartache at bay.</div>
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But, just as surely as the night comes, so did my my profound sense of loss.</div>
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The loss was born of knowing that we would never be the same; our family for all its antics, joys, hardships, and deep love was changed forever.</div>
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I was and still am conflicted.</div>
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They are no longer my little boys (but will always be). They are men on a new course.</div>
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I find solace in knowing that they're happy and now walk a path with women they love.</div>
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A mother can ask for nothing more.</div>
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For no riches can supersede finding a soul mate.</div>
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And on Sunday mornings,before my daughter and husband wake, I enjoy my morning coffee and blanket myself in the beautiful memories of their childhoods; early morning hockey practices, homework, the din of video games, the bustle of holiday preparations, the arguments, the tears and most of all the sweet sound of laughter and family.</div>
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We are not perfect but we are perfect in our love for each other. No matter where life takes us, I find great comfort in knowing that my children know that nothing can break the bond of family.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My daughter Liana and son Matthew</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stephanie (Daniel's fiance) & Daniel</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and Liana</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mia (Matthew's girlfriend) & Matthew</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tony (my husband) & Me</td></tr>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-60580018088525938132014-11-20T15:58:00.000-08:002014-11-23T06:59:45.384-08:00Every Morning We are Born Again!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Every morning we are born again. The worries and problems of yesterday are one day older and we are one day stronger.</div>
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It's a new day!</div>
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The possibilities are endless.</div>
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We can laugh with abundance.</div>
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We can make wiser choices, have new thoughts, be a little kinder, love more passionately, be grateful and remember that our journey is a fleeting one.</div>
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Buddha said it best,</div>
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"In the end only three things matter; how much you loved, how gently you lived and how gracefully you let go of the things not meant for you."</div>
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And so I wish you a happy new day!</div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-19403015127238307032014-11-19T16:47:00.001-08:002014-11-19T16:47:48.408-08:00Quiet Moments<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Age has a way of changing our perspective. What we found important in our youth no longer matters as much; we forgive more easily, feel more profoundly, care more about the human condition. We place greater value on relationships.</div>
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We become reflective. Speak our truth with care.</div>
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We care less to impress.</div>
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We walk away from snobbery and pretentiousness.</div>
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We see the true colors of the ones we love.</div>
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We slow our stride and see all that is beautiful.</div>
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We make time for quiet moments. </div>
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We enjoy our own company.</div>
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Most of all, we come to know that we cannot hold time at bay.</div>
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So we ride the wave, laugh the laugh, embrace the joy, the suffering, the sweetness of all our blessings.</div>
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And we say,</div>
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Thank you!</div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-50510529595727593662014-10-26T04:50:00.000-07:002014-12-30T04:42:39.787-08:00Really?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Do you ever get tired of looking at posts that talk about new beginnings, throw out the old, appreciate what you have, live for today. Their endless! People posting quotes about being a better person, enriched existence, spiritual connection.</div>
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Really?</div>
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How many people actually live what they post?</div>
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We read a nice quote, get captured by inspirational words, read a touching story and for a brief moment we think, "I'm going to live that way."</div>
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Two minutes later we go back to the norm.</div>
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That's not to say that there are not thousands of people who live by exceptional standards. They are the ones that mentor us to greatness, if we chose to follow their examples. People like Nelson Mandela, and Mother Teresa. They lived their words and so, if we are open to it, they inspire us to find the best in ourselves.</div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-59916365547750344102014-10-06T02:48:00.001-07:002014-10-06T02:53:09.569-07:00In the Box!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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To be self absorbed is to live in a box of your making. Too consumed with the drama of your own life you fail to see that others walk difficult paths too. </div>
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You miss the sun bursting into the sky early in the morning, you fail to see the beauty of the dew drops hanging precariously on the edge of leaves, you miss the sweet sound of chirping birds as they greet a new day.<br />
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You listen but do not hear.</div>
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You see but do not observe.</div>
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You work but find no passion.</div>
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You breathe but do not inhale.</div>
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You smile but are hollow.</div>
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You seek but never find.</div>
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You take for granted the gifts that lie before you and eventually, if and when you surface, they are gone.</div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-87549001861349564072014-08-04T05:41:00.002-07:002014-08-04T05:41:26.657-07:00The Dash<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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This might seem a bit morbid, but trust me it's not!</div>
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On rare occasions, I find myself attending a funeral.</div>
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When the final blessing is said and everyone leaves to return to the "busy" of their own lives, I often find myself drawn to the tombstones around me.</div>
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I read the names, see the photographs and dates etched in stone and I wonder.</div>
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What happened in between those dates-what secrets does that tiny little dash hold.</div>
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It tells us nothing but knows so much.</div>
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It is the journey of the person buried below; the keeper of their hopes, dreams, travels, joys and sorrows.</div>
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It is not the date of birth and death that matters so much but how that person lived every moment in between.</div>
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Sadly, only a few will know the depth of the dash of each person's life. And when those people are gone the dash of the lives that came before them is no more.</div>
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Live your life with abandonment, leave no stone unturned, love freely, play, sing and dance, travel but most of all have no regrets.</div>
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Make your dash a good one!</div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-78348430000037561632014-08-01T05:54:00.003-07:002014-08-01T05:54:42.154-07:00Moving Forward<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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A few days ago, I was chatting with my mom about family. </div>
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"Isn't the nature of people incredible? Even when we think we can't possibly face another day we do!"<br />
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I looked at her and said, "Mom, what an interesting thing to say."<br />
I knew she was thinking of her own life. "Yes, it is, " I replied.</div>
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Life hands us many joys which we accept with abandonment. They are the moments that move us from one day to the next. They fill our souls so that when we are faced with disappointments, losses, and sorrows we are fortified enough to meet the challenges.<br />
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-3055619350495415492014-05-31T05:08:00.000-07:002014-05-31T05:08:24.524-07:00What is God's Plan for Me?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The other day my best friend turned to me and asked, "What do you think God's plan is for me. What should I be doing with my life?" </div>
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It didn't take me long to offer my thoughts.</div>
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I believe that you are exactly where you are meant to be. Live in the moment and devote yourself to the craft you have chosen. If you love what you do, if you find joy in every moment, if you feel excitement when you are here, if there are not enough hours in the day to complete all that you wish to do, then you are living God's plan.</div>
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And when you feel a stirring, a restlessness, don't ignore it. That is him edging you in new directions. Follow the signs because there are many. </div>
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Do not live over committed to others, to the point where you forfeit your own dreams. Travel, play, explore, adventure. This is God's plan.</div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-63235401743463930292014-03-05T00:11:00.002-08:002014-03-05T00:21:37.766-08:00The Season's of my Life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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A while ago a young child asked me, "what season are you in?"</div>
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"What an interesting question," I replied."Can I think about it for awhile?"</div>
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"Yes," she answered, "tell me tomorrow."</div>
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It took me a few tomorrows to ponder my answer. </div>
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A week later, I found her sitting by the window drawing.</div>
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"I'm sorry it took me so long to answer your question. I had to do quite a bit of thinking.</div>
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I am now in autumn."</div>
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"Why?"</div>
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I knew she would want a reason.</div>
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"In Spring we are born. It is the time when all of nature comes to life.</div>
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In Summer we are children, the world is filled with adventure, abandonment and the pure joy of living. We stay in childhood for a long time."</div>
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"How long?" she wanted to know.</div>
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"Until we find ourselves," I replied.</div>
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"Do we get lost?"</div>
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"Not really but we are looking for our purpose."</div>
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"Then what happens?"</div>
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"Next we move to Autumn. The time of harvest."</div>
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"Are we vegetables," she wondered.</div>
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This made me laugh,</div>
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"No, but it is a time for us to reap. We begin our careers after years of schooling, many of us fall in love, get married, and have children, just like you. We raise our families and we celebrate."</div>
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"What happens next?"</div>
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"Then comes Winter. The season of rest. The time to remember the joys, the trials, the sacrifices and glory of our lives, our seasons."</div>
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"But in Winter,everything dies," she whispered.</div>
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"Yes, that's true. But we hope that our Winter will be long."</div>
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She gave me a hug and returned to drawing a picture of me in the Autumn of my life.</div>
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I watched her as she colored in the leaves that had fallen from the trees that surrounded me.</div>
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"I hope you stay in Autumn forever," she said as she smiled and handed me the picture.</div>
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"Thank you, " I replied <span style="text-align: left;">hugging her.</span></div>
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"And may your Summer be equally as long!"</div>
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<span class="bigcap" style="font-size: 20px;">T</span>o everything there is a season,<br />a time for every purpose under the sun.<br />A time to be born and a time to die;<br />a time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted;<br />a time to kill and a time to heal ...<br />a time to weep and a time to laugh;<br />a time to mourn and a time to dance ...<br />a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing;<br />a time to lose and a time to seek;<br />a time to rend and a time to sew;<br />a time to keep silent and a time to speak;<br />a time to love and a time to hate;<br />a time for war and a time for peace.</div>
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Tiziana Cicconehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12619011517873666201noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8831271077448832484.post-79892412518715335402013-11-17T15:23:00.000-08:002013-11-17T15:28:14.678-08:00Farewell Niko!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We cannot measure the love we feel for our pets these beautiful creatures with gentle souls. They are a constant comfort to us.</div>
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This beautiful dog, Niko</div>
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was my best friend's best friend. Yesterday she said goodbye to him.</div>
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He passed quietly in his sleep. For 15 years she was blessed to have him.</div>
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For all that he gave, he asked nothing in return save a daily walk, a belly rub and love.</div>
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He will rest easy knowing that he left his family well loved and enriched for having known him.</div>
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He may be gone but he will never be forgotten; leaving behind memories of kindness, warmth and gentleness of spirit.</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">“A person can learn a lot from a dog, even a loopy one like ours. Marley taught me about living each day with unbridled exuberance and joy, about seizing the moment and following your heart. He taught me to appreciate the simple things-a walk in the woods, a fresh snowfall, a nap in a shaft of winter sunlight. And as he grew old and achy, he taught me about optimism in the face of adversity. Mostly, he taught me about friendship and selflessness and, above all else, unwavering loyalty.” </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">― </span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8002.John_Grogan" style="background-color: white; color: #666600; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;">John Grogan</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">, </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/14961" style="color: #666600; text-decoration: none;">Marley and Me: Life and Love With the World's Worst Dog</a></i></div>
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