K is for Keepsake

A Keepsake is a memento, something you can give or something received that reminds you of a special event.  It can be a souvenir, though I think of keepsakes as something sweeter, something that trigger’s wonderful memories and a souvenir as something you buy at Pedro’s when driving to Florida for spring break. Those kind of keepsakes have become an industry.  Folks are always hawking coins, cups, and other “collectables” on TV. Did you get your memorial dish of the royal wedding?  But are those things really worth keeping? Even the term “collectable” is relatively new…when did we start an obsession with collecting these so called collectables?


Keepsakes are not new. People, it seems, have always had keepsakes of one sort or another. My most favorite keepsakes are those that are associated with the people I love more than places or events.  Some of my favorite keepsakes are: a few of the menu’s from the SS France, a cruise I took with my parents when I was still in elementary school; crewel pillowcases I purchased in Afghanistan, a trip I took with my eldest step-son; the bouquet from my wedding; and ticket stubs from some amazing rock concerts from the ‘70s that I attended with the woman who is still my best friend! I also wear my grandmother’s wedding band (next to my own) as well as her engagement ring. These are real treasures to me. They represent not only the love of my Gram but also my love for my husband.   I have some of my mother’s wedding crystal; I love those etched wine glasses.  Much of my mother’s good jewelry was stolen though I do have her diamond wedding band. I wish we still had her charm bracelet. My Dad had the charms made up with his badge number and house numbers when he was a member of New York’s bravest…NYFD!  I do have one of the charms that somehow evaded the thief.  I plan on turning it into a ring. That will be a great keepsake.
Two Christmases ago I gave my husband a collage of photos of the kids. They were all photos taken at photo booths from many trips to the Jersey Shore and Lake George over the years as all as a set taken at a photo booth at a recent family wedding. Lots of memories in those photos. A great keepsake.
Do we always keep things that are worth keeping? My mother recently downsized and moved to a very small apartment.  I was with her as she went through some her things and determined what she needed to give up. That was a difficult process.  She would no longer have a large dining room so she had to get rid of the dining room set. That table was the center of our house. So many holiday and family dinners were shared at that table. Hours and Hours of love were shared around that table. I think that was the hardest thing she had to give up; not the actually table but actually having the space to host those family gatherings.  One of my brothers now has her dining room set and we continue to share family dinners at that table. Christmas is now at my house but she still does the cooking! My mother has been living in her new place for several years now and I don’t think she ever gives a second thought to all the things she had to give up to make that move.  She was able to let go and make the transition.

It seems we all keep a lot of stuff that we could let go of. This is especially true of those intangibles…stuff like bad memories, grudges, heartbreak; we tend to hoard that stuff like they were gold coins. Letting go of that stuff is a lot harder than giving away the family china.  Wouldn’t it be cool if we could have a yard sale for that stuff? One table filled with childhood pains; another devoted to friendships that went south.  Grievances….that would probably take a few tables. Since it’s my yard sale, I would add a table with pet-peeves…now those are things we keep that really serve no purpose.  What would you put on your tables? Some expectations might be worth putting up for sale. 
Who would come to such a sale you may ask? Well, God. He is an eager buyer just waiting for these sales. He combs the papers everyday searching for those of us ready to have yard-sales-for-soul.  These sales are not easy; it takes work and commitment to give up our sense of indignation at old hurts. 

But it’s what we are called to do: to forgive, to give God those burdens, to clean out those collections that destroy our souls and keep us in the cycle of old pain. 

It may be time for all of us to downsize, myself especially included; to review our “collections” and determine what we have that really are keepsakes and what we keep that simply is krap.

J is for JAVA

J is for Java, the joyous juice of the coffee bean! Oh how I love java. I love the way it tastes, it smells, and even the sound it makes when it fills my cup. I love the way if feels when I wrap my hands around a warm mug. Coffee is more than a drink--- it’s a social encounter for those willing to take to the plunge!

I love strong coffee, but I am not a purest, I do take it with milk (no sugar). It has to be whole milk though; I won’t drink it if the only thing available is skim milk, turns the coffee a yucky shade of grey. I will, however, drink coffee black if it has a bit Sambuca in it!  

I don’t believe people should add flavors to coffee (other than some liqueurs) …if you don’t like the way coffee tastes, drink something else.

Yes, I am probably addicted to it which I guess is not a good thing but there are far worse addictions that’s for sure. I know that too much java can certainly make you jittery and I have been known to jump a bit when I over indulge. I can understand why the Mormon church bans it (somewhat understand it) but am grateful that when encouraged to ban it in the 1600s, the Pope refused saying it was a gift from God…and indeed it is! The Muslims tried to ban it at one time but the people revolted.

I always start my day with a cup of that black gold. My fellow “memer” Jean Wise writes about Journaling for her “J” essay. I sometimes do write in the morning and couldn’t imagine doing it without my cup of coffee. I use the same cup, its solid blue, large and chipped; it’s a relic from my wedding shower.

There is something wonderful about sitting on the deck, either alone or with friends, and drinking coffee. Joining friends for java is always a good time. The talk seems to flow all that much easier when it’s over a shared pot-of-joe. My parents would spend hours drinking coffee after dinner and talking. They made their coffee in a pot they put on the stove and boiled. My mom still makes a great cup of coffee though she uses an electric percolator these days.  I can no longer drink coffee in the afternoon but do enjoy a decaf after dinner and will make an exception to my no-caffeine-in-the-evening rule if it’s for an Irish coffee (hmmm St Patrick’s day is coming..). 

Before Starbucks, 7-11 used to be a hot spot for good java. Dunkin Donuts is still popular though no longer a personal favorite. McDonald’s had the worst coffee though I hear they have improved it greatly (haven’t eaten in one in more years than I can count). I must admit that I have become a fan of Starbucks but prefer locally owned shops whenever I have the options. My local bagel shop makes a good cup. While I usually love coffee out, I can't drink it if its in a styrofome cup.

Coffee is something I always seek out when in other countries. I Loved stopping in the café’s for cappuccino in Italy. The strong coffee in Turkey was a real treat.  But of course some of the best coffee I have ever had was in Africa. Good coffee was plentiful in Kenya and Zambia but my favorite coffee comes from Uganda (probably because I love Uganda!).  The Nile River starts in Jinja, Uganda and there are two java shops there that are fantastic: Flavours Café and the Source Café…Flavours caters to the tourist and the Source is more of a dive but both are fun and, of course, have some great coffee.  Even the tea in Africa is good! Former British colonies still serve afternoon tea. I have had coffee from Ethiopia but have never been to that country, at least not yet.  Good coffee was also had in Honduras and in the Dominican Republic.

My husband is not a coffee drinker, he pretty much sticks to water. He sometimes gets up early and goes to daily mass (I usually sleep in). Despite the fact that he doesn’t even like the smell of coffee, he has been known to bring me home a cup after mass. When we were in Germany we had to leave the hotel at 4:30 am to catch the flight home.  When I dragged my sleepy self into the nearly empty lobby, there, waiting for me was a large cup of java to go…my husband arranged for it the night before!

I am sure I will raise the hackles of coffee purists when I admit that I now use the coffee pods but I have found some great pods: Emeril has a strong pod (Big Easy Bold) and another company has pods called black silk and oh, it really is!

This is a short post and certainly not the most creative of my efforts but Java is what came to mind when I started to write my J entry…so Java it is, or joe or jamoke or simply joy…

I is for Intuition

I is for Intuition

Intuition will tell the thinking mind where to look next.- Jonas Salk

I have a feeling about this…a mother’s intuition…a hunch…

We have all heard the phrases and more importantly experienced those moments of clarity when you simply knew what to do in a particular situation. You didn’t need to give it much thought, the answer came from within:  Intuition. Intuition comes from the Latin word “intueri” which means to see within. Although I think it is more about listening than seeing within. Intuition is listening to that place within ourselves where God dwells. It is listening to the soul 

In the fall of 2010 Harvard researchers published the findings from a study indicating that people with a more intuitive thinking style tend to believe in God more deeply than those with a more reflective thinking style. A reflective style of thinking is weighing the pros and cons, looking at all the options carefully, or approaching decisions from a purely logical frame of reference. Intuitive thinking is an approach to decisions or assessments where one trusts one’s gut or intuition; where one looks internally for the answers more so than weighing facts. The study didn’t indicate which came first --intuitive thinking or deep faith-- only that those who tend to trust their intuition have greater faith than those who did not generally rely on intuitive thought. Both intuition and faith have been described as knowledge without reason. Faith is often unreasonable. Faith is an intuitive belief in a power greater then ourselves, a Divine Power. Faith is its own kind of cognition.   It makes sense then that those with a deep faith would be less inclined to solely use reasoning as a means of processing information.

For me, intuition and faith are inseparable, integral components of the Holy. I believe faith feeds our intuition.  Both are manifest in that small voice that speaks continually even though we, or at least I, do not always trust it or can even hear it. Learning to listen to our intuition and trusting it, it seems to me, would lead to greater faith. And the greater our faith the more likely we trust that inner voice. But that small voice too often gets drowned out by all the noise in our head. It gets pushed aside by logic that says that doesn’t make sense, it hasn’t been thought out enough. Grace is the courage to listen to the voice no matter what the mind thinks.

A Mystic is anyone who seeks a deeper relationship with God though most are known for their extraordinary experiences and expressions of faith. I would say that Mystics are experts at tuning into their intuition.  Through their faith and disciplined practices, Mystics readily connect with God within themselves.  Not seeking God out-there-somewhere but the God within. Intuition in this sense is that place where the mind listens to the voice of God dwelling within; its listening to the soul.  No one would call mystics logical and many did call them crazy.

Unfortunately, it isn’t an easy thing to tap into our intuition, at least not for me. It requires quiet and time, it especially requires pray erthat quiets the mind. Without practice it is easy to confuse intuition with an initial reaction to something.  I am guessing that most of us have had a first, gut reaction to something or someone that, upon further reflection, was proved wrong.  First thoughts are too easily tainted by prejudice or misinformation. One clue that what you hear is God speaking through your intuition  and not an initial reaction is that intuition will evoke a sense of peace whereas an initial thought may be disquieting or push us to ask even more questions. I think it is also easy to confuse intuition with the ego. The ego will also prompt us to act but its voice usually isn't so small and rarely quiet. 

"The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift." - Albert Einstein,

Einstein points out that the logical mind should serve the intuitive mind. The quote indicate that both are important but indicates that one should serve the other…logic should serve the higher mind…intuition. St Thomas Aquinas argued that faith and reason must coexist. Thus, we find evidence of God in nature. For those of us with faith we see God in all creation: creation becomes evidence of God.  God doesn’t ask us not to think, he doesn’t want us leave our brain at the church door. He gave us that brain so expects us to use it. But our ability to be reflective must serve a higher purpose. We are thinking beings but our thinking, even for the best of brains, is limited. God isn’t limited and intuition channels God for those willing to undergo the discipline to learn to listen.

H is for Hours

H is for Hours

Especially hours spent reading which is something I do often. I read for several hours every day. Fiction, non-fiction, prayer books and daily readers. To say that I read is an understatement. It may be that I spend too many hours reading…is that possible? I would say no but in our harried, hectic world I am somewhat of an anomaly giving so many hours each day to reading.  The average for people under 65 is less than 30 minutes a day spent reading.  I do not have children living at home so I don’t have to drive them anywhere, correct homework or cook dinner for the hungry mob. I do freelance work and I work from home so no time spent on a commute.  My days are not hectic but somehow the hours do fly.

Sadly, a recent study by the National Endowment for the Arts indicated that Americans are reading less than 10 years ago…I wouldn’t have guessed that.

The hours I spend reading make me a better writer, even, in my opinion a better person. But should I spend fewer hours reading and more hours…doing…what?   Books are often the building blocks of relationships…they are certainly are good start to a conversation and what’s a conversation but a good start to a relationship

“Never trust anyone who has not brought a book with them.”
― Lemony Snicket, Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can't Avoid

I have quite a few nieces and nephews and a growing group of grand nieces and nephews and my favorite gifts for them are books. Fortunately most of these young family members are avid readers. I spend more than a few hours reading books for young people.  It is definitely time well spent as I have learned that books deemed appropriate for young people aren’t. Or at least not for very young people.  And some books for young people are truly wonderful.

“A children's story that can only be enjoyed by children is not a good children's story in the slightest.”
― C.S. Lewis

And I do spend time reading the Bible, studying it and learning from it…

“Ignorance of the Scriptures is ignorance of Christ.”

-St Jerome

So which of these hours should I give up? None I should say. These are happy hours, heartfelt hours, hours that are spent honorably.

Lent on Facebook

This year I decided to walk through Lent on Facebook. I called my FB friends to walk through the 40 days Lent with me by focusing on 40 days of kindness and wonder.  We are called to charitable acts, acts of mercy during Lent, hence the kindness. Kindness in all forms, especially the most simple. Through FB, I am calling attention not so much to the act of kindness but to taking the time to notice when kindness can be offered and do so. In noticing, I believe I will find that there are many more opportunities for kindness that I/we would typically not be tuned in to. Not to say that I am a selfish person but I do know myself well enough to know that sometimes am not tuned into others and can miss the chance for kindness: the sincere thank you for good service, letting a car cut in, things along those lines…simple kindnesses. My hope is that in recognizing that opportunities do abound, that I will take more of those times and share some kindness which will brighten my life and the life of whoever is involved.

I also called for wonder as a different take on the Catholic tradition of Lent as a time of reflection. I think we are surrounded with signs of God’s wonder. But I also think we miss them or fail to appreciate the wondrous nature of what is around us. We all could benefit from that which causes us to pause, to stand back in astonishment, something that grabs our attention in a positive way. Reflecting on the wondrous is reflecting on God. Just like the opportunities for kindness, I am guessing that wondrous abound but I miss it or mistake it for ordinary. So why not spend some time this Lent in finding all that is filled with wonder or fills us with wonder as a means of honoring God? I have asked my FB friends to do so and post same.

Hopefully it will go viral or at least get a bit of a snuffle …stay tuned.

G is for Gerardine

G is for Gerardine (or what’s in a name?)

Today I joined a meme (had to look it up…it’s an idea or anything really that repeats itself usually through imitation). So the meme I joined was/is a blog meme asking participants to write a blog post using the alphabet as a prompt.  And this week’s letter is G…well G is for Gerardine of course! That’s GeraRdine, two Rs NO L. I have spent most of my life telling people how to spell my name; that no, I didn’t misspell my own name  on the form; and asking people to take the L out when they insist that it should be inserted into my name.   You would be amazed at how many people try to correct the spelling of my name. 

My family is Catholic and we believe that the Heaven is filled with saints who pray for us each day.  My mother had a number of miscarriages and began to ask St Gerard to pray for her and her unborn babies.  St Gerard was a mystic and credited with saving the life of a woman in labor through prayer (well, actually credited with praying and God saved the life). Thus he became the patron of saint pregnant women. 

Three out of four of my Mom’s children have some form of Gerard in our name (Gerard, James Gerard, and me, Gerardine).  My oldest brother got away with John.  My name is pronounced JEr-a-deen) but most people call me Ger.

 In another post on this site I write about how comforting the familiar is to each of us and how it takes one from the outside looking in to get us to question the familiar. Some times that questioning has merit and sometime it can and should be dismissed.  It wasn’t until I was a teenager did someone feel the need to point out to me how odd it was that my brother and I had the same name…no we didn’t! My name is Gerardine and his name is Gerard…oh, yeah ok, so it’s somewhat the same. We were and are two very different people with two different, albeit similar names.  Funny how I never really thought about having the “same” name as one of brothers until someone told me to think of it that way.

Ah Juliet, What is in a name?  According to a Kabala website my name  means brave spear . Seriously? What the heck does that mean?  If you Google Gerardine, I pop up, as does a CEO of an electric company, an award winning film maker, a chemist, and Google also reveals that Gerardine is the name of a designer of shoes, (but unfortunately, in my humble opinion, not really great shoes). But not too many other Gerardines come up in the search.  So this brave spear is an odd name or rather a rare name…yes, I prefer rare, but I guess I didn’t need Google to tell me that.

Names do have a lot of meaning. When I got married it was hard for me to change my last name…I am Italian-American and my husband is Irish/German-American with a German last name. I didn’t want to give up my last name which expressed my family’s heritage. We compromised (something that we continue to do!). While I don’t hyphenate my name I do use my maiden name for my work but my legal name is Gerardine Luongo Ranft .

About 10 years ago I was at a party and was introduced to a woman whose name was Marcia  A. (full last name not included for privacy).  She told the group she was introduced to that this was her first night out with her “real” name… what did that mean?  She explained that she was adopted and estranged from her adopted parents.  She had learned that her birth mother was Jewish. In order to create her own identity she needed to create a new name for herself…first and last. She didn’t take the last name of her birth mother because, as she explained it, she didn’t really feel that much of a connection to her but she did want a name that acknowledged she was of Jewish heritage. So she named herself Marcia A. The name was completely different from the name she had for more than 35 years. Marcia believed that she needed to reject the name given to her by her adopted parents; she needed  to create a her own name as a way of establishing her own identity. But who was she for 35 years?  I often wondered if she felt connected to her name immediately or did she have to grow into it?

Malcolm X changed his name from Malcolm Little to distance himself from the last name that was imposed on his family by his slave ancestor’s owners. After he made the Hajj to Mecca he took on the name of El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz.  He too felt that a name could define a man and it was so important that his name reflect his own identity and not one imposed upon him by white supremacists.

Although no longer as common as it once was, we have all heard of celebrities who changed their name to be more marketable.   

Our name is one of the first things we learn to read and write. As children we put it on all our belongings…our backpacks, our books, etc.  At one time or another we have all worn the HELLO! My Name is…label.

At some point I sort of gave up fighting for the two R’s and No L and let people call me Gerry.  People have spelled Gerry with all sorts of variations and since I don’t consider it my REAL name I never cared how it was spelled (although I spell it Gerry).  I do prefer to be called Ger or Gerardine, the latter is what my husband calls me. What is important is knowing that the people who are most important to me call me by my name…as does God.

Yes I do believe God calls me Ger and calls me often.

But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine Isaiah 43:1

God knows me and calls me by name .  And that is the importance of a name.  So G is for Gerardine and this Gerardine prays that I have the clarity to know when God calls me and the strength to say yes. 

Isaiah 43:7  Everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.”