September 11, 2012

There is 5 minutes left to September 11th...I just got home from the Heartworks House after a meeting with 73 women. 73 WOMEN!!! Our biggest group ever. We lit candles, we prayed, we drank wine and ate chips and salsa. We had a goal for making $500 for Matthew Harms medical bills with pray stars...we still have to put the poster out at the fundraiser Saturday night and we have already raised $500!!! Amazing. My daughter Caroline painted gold nails on anyone who would sit with her...a way to support her little friend  Campbell who is 4 days into 1st grade living with a brain tumor. Caroline was sitting in the back of the room when we lit our candles and stood in a circle listening to "Amazing Grace (her Grampy's favorite song). she was looking at me talking leading their group of women in to a silent circle of prayer. I felt like she was understanding what the past 8 years has been about for our family. I felt like I was showing her what I have been doing with myself when I am away from Eddie and my girls. I thought that maybe she was beginning to understand the impact her Uncle John's life has had on the world.
My most sacred moments of the day are:

Realizing this morning that I did not bring flowers to John and Allison Horstmann's plaque at our high school and my friend Jim Davis taking care of it for me...knowing that this helped him with his grief over his lost friends as much as it helped me.

John's family being at the service with us. My mother sitting with his parents and sisters. His brother Jim standing next to me. Michael and Kathleen included in the circle even though they were not physically there. Later, they all came to the Heartworks House and I was able to show them what has been created in memory of their son and brother.

The sun shining so brightly. Years ago, when my father had recovered from tongue cancer to the pint that he could travel, he went to Florida. It was winter and he told me that he got off the airplane and stood with his face to the sun. The sun gave him new life. I tired my face to the sun, as I have so often in the past 7 years when the pangs of missing him overwhelm me.

Nieces and nephews scrunched on a brick wall next to Madison and Caroline sitting n a plaid blanket while the bell tower rang

The Monsignor Capik's voice during the homily and the memory of him sitting at Maryanne's kitchen table September 15, 2001. The stillness in the kitchen and the realization that he could handle it because he knew God.

Standing with my brother and saying the Our Father together

My sister Maryanne laughing

Talking about John, the wind whipping up and 16 balloons floating up in the air filled with written love notes at Jockey Hollow

Heartworkers preparing the Heartworks House for our meeting all day while I spent time with my family

The texts, calls and emails from people who love me (Sue Ostrander, what a gift, a story (book)  for a different day)

My gratitude for Madeline and how we came to know each other

The mediation room filled with candles, pictures and prayers

Spending the night with conscious women. My deep loves who understand me and want what I want- a deep connection with God and freedom from the bullshit

My time in the parking lot with my friend Andea

The back up at the front door of people coming into the meeting

The 73 women that left their houses to come join us in our efforts

Running out of candles, chairs, glasses and spinach dip

The $500 already made for the Harms family

The $1,000 we are going to be able to send Chis Meade, a man in CT who we have never met before to pay for medical bills

The look on his friend's faces when we told them we can do this for him

The image of my sweet Caroline sitting in the back of the meeting room and remembering being 5 months pregnant with her on a 24 hour ride home from Colorado 11 years ago this week.

Sitting at the Heartworks house over a glass of wine until 11:00 with Heartworkers that just didn't want to leave

The time with my Kelly who is a sole sister of all sorts XO

Lying my head on my pillow tonight next to my Eddie knowing that I have done one small part today to honor John and everyone else who's life was sacrificed in a spiritual awakening for the planet

Good night and thanks for listening even though I don't tell people I blog so very few people read it :) XO

Prayers for Tomorrow

I spent today at the Heartworks House getting ready for our meeting tomorrow night. We are in the process of transforming the Meditation Room into a place filled with pictures of victims of 9/11, active military men and women and pictures of war torn countries from all over the world. Our prayers reach far and wide to anyone ever affected by terrorism. Heartworks remembers that we are a country at war and that horrific acts of hate are not some thing in the past, but happening as I type this blog entry. There are families escaping territories with nowhere to go. We pray for them tonight.
Tonight I want to say thank you to every single person who did something for a family after September 11, 2001. Thank you for paying such close attention to the loss. It is my greatest hope to continue on the standard that you set 11 years ago to any struggling family that crosses the path of Heartworks.

We pray tonight for all people being retraumatized by the anniversary
We pray for everyone who misses someone
We pray for every first responder who is struggling with health issues
We pray for every human being affected by terrorism
We pray for acute awareness and gratitude of our freedoms and safety
We pray for all political leaders to act from a place of grace rather than ego
We pray for healing around the globe

I am watching the coverage on TV. I do this every September 10th before I go to bed. I was in Colorado in 2001, far from any of the trauma. I watch it now because I want to pay my respects to the people who were not so far away. Who still have nightmares and anxiety from the things that they saw that day. I want to pay my respects to the first responders and witness, even if it is from the ridiculous safety of my couch a fraction of what they witnessed that day.
I will never forget. I will never forget the events or what people did for my family. Besides my husband and daughters, family and friends,  nothing else is more important to me than to pay forward what has been done for my sister and her kids.
Thank you.

The Ronan Song

 Below is a note I sent to my Heartworks Advisory Board members today. They are 9 women dedicated to the ideals and principles of Heartworks. They are very tolerable of my emails that ramble on and on about my thoughts about life, Heartworks and everything and anything in-between.

So….when you are done reading this email, your assignment today :) is to google Taylor Swifts performance of her new song "Ronan" at the Stand Up to Cancer Concert that she just sang over the weekend. She had read a blog by a woman who's 4 year old son had died last year and she and the mother wrote this song together.

 I got an email about it Saturday from Heartworker Beth B to watch it. I ignored it. Then last night I got a text from Katie B about the same song. I put down what I was doing and listened. I watched Taylor Swift sing and bawled my head off. I allowed God to penetrate my anxious thoughts about the legal issues being presented to our group by another non-profit, the dirty laundry piling up in my basement, how Heartworks is getting ready for the  9/11 meeting, how many people are coming to the fundraiser, the new pimple on my chin, figuring out the carpool schedule for Madison's soccer this week. 

I let myself listen to the song and connect to the tread of suffering in the world, the suffering in my own family, the suffering of my friends, of Heartworkers and neighbors and strangers I have never even met before. I wanted to work on Heartworks before going to bed. I sent an email to Mary, the friend of Amy (the beautiful woman who lives in Bville, has breast cancer, came without any hair on her head to the July meeting) to ask when the date is for the drawing for the beach houses. She wrote me back that they had to do the drawing last week…because Amy has gotten very sick, very quickly and is in her final days and the needed to get the money to them…..She shared with me that when Amy got in the car after the meeting she said she is coming to help as soon as she gets better…

So early this morning I went on an early walk, listened to "Ronan" no less than 20 times in a row and went to the Heartworks House to sit in the meditation room. 

I hung up the American flag with the names on it of everyone who was killed on 9/11. I put out the article I found about Syria. I began the process of transforming the room into a quiet place of reflection for the meeting Tuesday night. My vision is the meditation room filled with pictures and stories from all over the globe of acts of terrorism and war. It is important on Tuesday that we do not all just bow our heads in a robotic gesture without feeling what it means to be alive on the planet right now. That there are countries being torn apart and having "9/11" days over and over and over again. When My sister's husband was killed, the world responded. She was brought food and given money and  people did anything in their power to make her life manageable. There is a woman somewhere tonight, her house is being bombed and she has nowhere to go. No lasagnas being brought to her, no soccer coaches welcoming her children back to practice, no lawyers, doctors, orthodontists, teachers or mechanics showing up on her doorstep to help her. No resources to call on. And I think as Americans it is important for us to realize how different our experience is with terrorism than most of the world. 

The "September 11th pit" as I call it is slowly growing in my stomach. Between the song about Ronan, New Heartworker Amy from Bernardsville sitting in the Heartworks House 2 months ago and now she is getting ready to let go of this life after a courageous adventure with Breast Cancer, thinking of Garrett on a camping trip last night with his 3 boys under the same tent, thinking about going to sleep on September 10th 11 years ago and crawling up the stairs the next day to tell Eddie to turn on the TV….I feel in sacred space and basking in the love of my life. The blessings that are right in front of me that I take for granted everyday. My gratitude for all of you and all the things you put up with from me, for the vision of Heartworks. For your commitment. For your internal work so that we can always be coming from a clear place when we intermingle in other people's lives. So please be patient with me if I seem "particular" with my vision for Tuesday's meeting and my reasoning for things…I am never trying to be anal or bossy, just intentional. If you feel I am off course with something, please share your thoughts in case it is the mud in my own eyes keeping me from seeing a certain view. The world seems so lost in the "busy" and Tuesday is a sacred day of opening, faith, trust, crucifixion and resurrection for me. I don't necessarily feel sad, I feel reverent. 

I am staying open to the pit in my stomach, knowing that it is my physical body processing the contradictions and complexities of life that we so willingly look at through Heartworks. I do not want a "normal" few days…I want to be dedicated to my family and the work we are being called to do. I want to be open to love. Eddie just texted me from Madison's soccer game that he misses me. (so friggin cute!)  I want to be open to the love God is blessing me with instead of being too distracted to notice it. 

I pray that I am able to do this

I pray that every woman who needs the meeting Tuesday is able to get there

I pray that ideas and organizing comes easily to us for meeting nd fundraiser

I pray that we can stay focused on why we are doing Heartworks

I pray that we all feel God's deep, unfailing love for us

I pray that we can live intentional lives of receiving and giving.

I pray. 

I encourage each of you to be intentional this week within your own lives. Come to the House and help if you are pulled to do so, there is plenty to do. 

THANK YOU FOR LISTENING TO ME 

I loveyou all XOXOX M

Later today I received another email from Heartworker Mary telling me that her dear friend Amy who came to her first and only Heartworks meeting in July, had gone to God last night. My laundry is still piled up downstairs. I still have a pimple. But my day was full of love. I had lunch with my mom and my sisters and nieces and nephews. Eddie and I watched Madison win a soccer game and we  hung out with our friends tonight. I am acutely aware of the life around me. I am motivated to live as clearly as I can and to love as much as I can while I am here. I thank God tonight for my healthy body and the opportunity to go to the Heartworks House tomorrow and prepare a space for 40 women to come and remember 9/11 and ray for peace. From terrorism, from cancer, from life.

Not able to walk the talk

The focus of my walk this morning was an attempt at silence. Not just "not talking" but inner silence, away from the constant, looping thoughts that cloud my mind . I left my iPod on the desk and started my walk. I started repeating a peace centered mantra over and over again as a method of interrupting the noise in my head. All my mind needed was to see the Burke's house (two houses away and dear family friends of ours) as an excuse to go off on a thinking tangent. Within the first three minutes of the walk, my thoughts drifted from "peace" to Mrs. Burke's daughter Kara who is about to have her first baby. Mrs. Burke (or "Markie as I just started calling her a few years ago when I turned 40) emailed us yesterday that Kara will be induced this week if her baby boy does not come on his own. She mentioned that Kara was doing well but was "done" with  being pregnant. So I decided in-between my thoughts of "peace" to call her later with some advice about being present with the pregnancy...after all, I 'm a therapist and mother of three. My message would be about staying in the moment, letting go and allowing the universe to unfold as it needs to. I was going to tell her that she has the rest of her life to spend with her son, walking around, breathing the air, but perhaps only a few more hours or days of the sensation of carrying him around inside of her. I was going to tell her about the current chaos in my house- getting three girls ready for the start of school. The electronics, the blathering on the phone, the music, the tears, the fighting, shopping requests, laughing and constant motion. It is almost impossible for me to recall the stillness we had 13 years ago, before our oldest was born. I was going to tell her how she will never again be this still with his soul. That he will soon belong to the world and now is the time to sit in the stillness and keep her mind in the present moment, the only place we can truly access God. My mothering lecture would end with specific instructions: Leave thoughts of the birth for the time of birth. Leave worries of the future for the future. For now, just be in the moment without judgment. Embrace the  swollen feet and cranky mood, its all part the process.
Sounds good right?? Yup, I would call her tonight and release my wealth of wisdom on her.

Half way up Old Farm Road my mind drifted from Kara's unborn son back onto my own life. Racing thoughts of my daily life came rushing in...a conflict I'm in with someone I love, the stress about all that needs to be done for  Heartworks, my father-in-law's illness, Charlie's next brain scan, school starting and Mary getting on the bus for kindergarten. I started making my lists, holding court in my head with people I am judging, fearing change and making plans for how I can possibly manipulate and control the outcomes.

All of a sudden I caught myself and stopped in my tracks and looked up at the trees. 15 minutes ago I was all "one with the universal flow" walking under a beautiful blue sky assisting young Kara in the art of letting go and being present in the moment. I stood in stunned amazement as I have so many times before at  how stinkin' difficult it is to live these basic spiritual concepts . I can have poetic sayings printed on the walls of Heartworks and send them out in inspiring emails,  but the truth is it is much easier to suggest to Kara how to be present with her uncertainty than it is to actually live it in my own life. Giving lectures are always easier than living them. A woman about to give birth is as clear as an example as you can get to living in the unknown and trusting in a higher source. In actuality we are all doing this each day, it is just not as obvious without the supposed due date, finished nursery and packed bag. So I have decided not to make the call. The truth is, Kara and Matt will figure it out on their own. so instead of refining my lecture, I prayed. I prayed for all of us living on the edge of uncertainty of what will happen in the future. I prayed for the ability and courage to spend more time in silence. I prayed for Kara, Matt and "Junior."  I walked the rest of the way home in silence. Sort of.

It has been awhile since I have written. Although thousands of thoughts run through my head in any given day, I do not always make the time or muster the courage to publicly share them. Sometimes writing helps me to feel connected, but sometimes the vulnerability involved simply feels like too much. My work with Heartworks requires that I am not only in front of a room full of women every month talking about God, illness and finding gratitude, but I am not able to hide behind small talk, bullshit or fake almost ANYTHING because I am such a blathering advocate for BEING REAL, AUTHENTIC and TRUTHFUL to this room of women. This always leaves me needing to "walk my talk" which sometimes I do and sometimes I don't. My life is blessed with stories of death and resurrection, loss, love and hope. I consciously choose to see these themes in my own life as a way to remind me that we are not alone in any of our experiences, enless we choose not to participate in the realities of life on this planet, in which case  we are often left feel desperately alone.
Summer 2012 has not brought much relief to many people and families I care about who are living with illness. But it has brought relief for Charlie and his family as he received news of a third clear brain scan last week. The day after the news, the Ames' drove down the Jersey Shore to stay with Amy's sister Kate. Eddie and I surprised them at a bar and drank and danced to Bruce Springsteen and laughed and cried. (Well I cried, while strongly "hugging" or "suffocating" Garrett during a phenomenal rendition of Thunder Road). It was a night this time last year I never knew if we would have again. It was a concrete reminder to take things one day at a time...that we have no idea of what the further holds and to simply make the best of each day because we never know what is down the (Thunder) Road.
-"Show a little faith there's magic in the night"

Falling Through

When Amy and I spoke this morning, she told me Charlie was having his 4th grade picture taken at school. Amy paid him a quarter to wear a "fancy shirt" , blue and white gingham. I stuck a quarter in an envelope and mailed it to him when I hung up the phone. When he got home from school and I called him, I asked him what else he wore for his school picture...he said "plaid shorts. " I love it. gingham and plaid. the best. I can't wait to see the picture.
I am going to the "Heartworks House" everyday after I drop Mary off at pre-school. I walk in, take a deep breath, light some candles and look around in a state of overwhelming amazement, gratitude and a bit of anxiety at all the stories, all the families we are reaching out to. Cancer, cancer, cancer seems to be everywhere...On my street, in my friendships and at the Heartworks House. And along with the cancer, there is love, love, love, hope, hope, hope, faith, faith, faith, love, love, love, fear, fear, fear, awakenings, awakenings, awakenings, suffication, suffication, suffication, grace, grace, grace.
My favorite priest and author, Richard Rohr, says "Fall through your life situation, into your life" what this means to me is that the "situation" of our lives right now, is not our real life. Our real life is with God, in the lessons, and growth and healing...the "situation" is just showing up to help us come back to Him. I pray for this each day...to "fall through" the drama, the pettiness, the distractions of everyday life into the real life of service, my family and love. My daily phone calls to Amy remind me that nothing as we know it today will stay the same. Everything changes all the time. Purhaps this is the greatest human struggle...the near impossible ability to accept that nothing is permanent. It all seems so REAL...doesn't it? What is real is love. What is permanent is love. What I want most in my life- to give and recieve, is love. My prayer for Charlie on his Carebridge prayer page was that he feels the love we all have for him as he falls asleep tonight. It is my prayer for all of us. I picture his sweet little head, half full of blond curls resting on his pillow, with his blue and white gingham shirt crumpled up in a ball on the floor and I pray he falls through this dignosis into the love that is so abundant in his life.

Peggy's Reflection

Below is a story that my friend Peggy sent to me (she posted it on Facebook but I'm not on Facebook) It ties together 9/11, Heartworks and the power of one small gesture. I remember every bit of the stories she tells...the carnarion in 6th grade, the note I wrote her, the walks, the day she shared her fear with me about her father. A few years ago she came to a heartworks meeting in Bernardsville (a while before she was part of starting a group in another part of Jersey) and she started to tell the group how we reconnected because of a note I wrote her during a dark time in her life, and she reaches in her bag and pulled out the note...I couldnt believe she still had it after all these years- but she made the point that one small gesture brought with it so many healing lessons... (for both of us) and she encouraged the women in the room to always move forward with the one small gesture that speaks to them...Here is what my friend Peggy DeLong wrote:

Reflections on the Past

I spent much of yesterday reflecting on my past and events that have led to where I am today. I was struck by how lives cross, coincidences occur, and you sometimes don’t know the significance until years later, or decades later.

Being that it was the 10th Anniversary of 9/11, I was thinking about how Heartworks got started. My dear friend from childhood, Megan Sullivan McDowell, founded Heartworks after she witnessed the outpouring of support for the families who lost loved ones on that tragic day. Her sister’s husband, John Farrell, died that day. Megan had the opportunity to witness and experience the support from all over the world provided to her sister and family. In Megan’s own words: “I cannot remember when it exactly was. But I can clearly remember saying to myself that when we have our feet solidly on the ground again, I would spend the rest of my life paying forward all the kindness shown to my family. My silent appreciation needed to be said out loud, in a way that would benefit others as it had my sister.” Megan then founded Heartworks, an Acts of Kindness group. Just this month, they opened Heartworks House in Bernardsville.
Megan and I have been friends for as long as I can remember. I was a year ahead of her in school. Back then in elementary school, it was unusual to be close with girls who were not in your own grade just because there were not many opportunities for interaction. But there was something about two girls in particular, Megan Sullivan and Amy Michalowski. I remember attending their sixth grade graduation and giving them carnations, and feeling very special that I was their “older” friend. Another friend of Megan's, who was also my friend in high school, Lisa Kertesz Kelly, is the leader of Heartworks of Vermont.  I find it interesting that 30 years later, the four of us are involved with Heartworks in different states, Megan as founder and leader of the Bernardsville group, Amy as the leader of a group in Rhode Island, Lisa as the leader in Vermont, and me as co-founder of the Long Valley chapter, along with Jen DeSimone, who serves as our leader.  As little girls, we had no idea how our lives would later be connected.
Megan has been doing “heartworks” or acts of kindness long before she had a formal name for it, just in the way she was, and the way she reached out to others. My fiance passed away on 10/11/94 after a seven month valiant fight with cancer. By a cruel twist of fate, all of my closest friends moved away that August, September, or October of 1994. Nancy moved to Connecticut, Kristen moved to Arizona, Ali moved to Virginia, Amy moved to California, Jennifer moved to Colorado, Jeriann was already in Georgia, and Jody, Larry, and the band moved to Nashville. Everyone was moving on with their lives for graduate school, jobs, and relationships, and I was stuck in my grief without my core support, other than my dear family. Then one day I received a card in the mail from Megan. We had lost touch for years, maybe even ten years. In the bottom corner of the card in tiny numbers, she gave me her phone number, and she let me know that she was back in Bernardsville. I called her, and then began our regular walks, which sustained me through my darkest time.
I remember one walk in particular. We were walking up the steep part of Rolling Hill Road, coming from Seney Drive. I told Megan that I could not even think about or bear another loss, and that I often worried about my father’s health. The next day, my father died. He spent most of the day before getting ready for his first day of skiing. He was taking an early season trip to Vermont. He took out all of his equipment and wore his ski boots around the house most of the day. He even proudly showed me how he fixed the rip in his ski pants with duct tape, and we talked about our upcoming trip to Lake Tahoe (Squaw Valley) to visit my brother David. My father died on a chairlift while skiing at Okemo Mountain in Vermont on 11/21/94. The ski patrol were able to tell us that they had seen him skiing, so we were comforted that at least he got some good runs in. He had an unusual and unforgettable way of skiing that exuded happiness. Skiing casually with his arms out, listening to his tunes. I don’t think he was in his multi-colored clown wig that day.
While this was so tragic and such a blow to me and my family, who had just lost my fiance six weeks earlier, I was comforted by some thoughts my father shared with me just two weeks before. My father was very close to my fiance, and his death really took a toll on him. He was so heartbroken to lose his future son-in-law, and to see me in so much pain. We talked a lot about death after Scott died, and one of the things my father said was, "If I have it my way, I'm going to die on a chairlift." He said that is where he felt the most at peace and the closest to God, breathing in the cool mountain air. Well, two weeks later after he said that, he died alone on a chairlift from a sudden heart attack. Although way too young, he died exactly the way he wanted to. Knowing this was such a comfort to me and my family. It does not get any better than that. Beautiful.
Once again, Megan was there for me. And my friends all flew back home again from their various locations for my father’s funeral, after just being there six weeks before for my fiance’s funeral. And then they all left. Megan was around for a little while, and then she too left, moving to Colorado. But she left me with the strength I needed to get through the worst part. And then the next ski season came around, and I met my now husband. Actually, the ski season had ended, but it was with my ski buddies at a mountain biking party that I met John.
Now, meeting him through my ski friend is not strange, as many of my friends met their husbands through skiing. But it is strange that John and I skied the same mountains every weekend since we were in grade school, but we never crossed paths. We had several friends in common, and on one of our first dates, he asked why HIS friends were in MY 15 year old photo album! As Kristen put in her wedding toast to us, “The most remarkable aspect of your union with Peggy is that you unwittingly skied the same mountain since childhood, not knowing that each trip down the slope, each turn or mogul negotiated, was bringing you closer to each other.” Although he did not have the opportunity to meet my father through me, John knew my father before he even met me. He knew him as the crazy man who skied at Jack Frost on Wednesdays in a multi-colored clown wig, and who said hello and talked to everyone.
As I ran yesterday, I was also thinking about how many lives have been touched since Megan founded Heartworks. Not only through the original Bernardsville group, but also the Vermont group, Rhode Island group, Long Valley group, and kids’ group in Florida. What I love about Heartworks is reaching out and connecting with other people.
One particular situation came to mind. Last year, my town unexpectedly lost a loved member of the community, a man I did not know. Heartworks members each chose a month to reach out to the family, which included that man’s wife, his daughter, and his son. When it was my turn, I was at a loss as to how to reach out. One of the things I decided upon was to give the son a lego set for his age. I felt uncomfortable about delivering a gift to strangers who were still in the midst of their grief, and I procrastinated dropping off the gifts long after I purchased them. As I drove down the driveway to the house, my heart was pounding. I went to the front door and rang the bell. The wife was not home, but I left the package with her mother. I only left my first and last name, and that the gift was from Heartworks.
A couple days later, I was at home and the doorbell rang. An unrecognizable woman was at my door, and I thought it was another Jehovah’s witness. I opened the door, and she asked me if I was Peggy. I thought to myself, “Oh no! She even knows my name!” Then she told me her name, and the two of us immediately embraced. She took the time to track down my address to thank me in person for the gifts that I gave her family. She stated that the gift for her son arrived on her son’s birthday. I guess there was a special reason for my procrastination. She also said that the only thing that her son wanted for his birthday was a lego set, and her son thought that the gift was a gift from his father sent from heaven through me. Coincidence, I think not. I love the saying, “Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.”
So today, I thank Megan for re-entering my life and providing me with the support and strength that I needed after the deaths of my fiance and my father. I also thank her for starting Heartworks and bringing Heartworks into my life. I thank Jen DeSimone for leading Heartworks of Long Valley. I thank my father for his goofiness and teaching me what is important in life. I thank my mother for continuing to be my rock in my adult life. I thank God for bringing John into my life. I thank God for my three beautiful children. I thank John for creating with me the family and life I always dreamed of having.