My Heart...

To a better place, you have gone. I tell myself quietly.

Your life was full and important to us all and you let us in and never let go.
You were saved for a reason, you just didn't know it at the time.
We didn't know it either, how you would save us too.

How the quiet times on the sofa together, side by side,were important food for both our souls. How you loved me, protected me and let me know that just being close made you happy. That being part of the family was your destiny and you cherished that.

Yes, you were the Man of the house. Loyal and most loving, my heart is broken today,but I take comfort knowing that she will be there waiting for you.
Rest easy, my love..

Into God's Hands

I lost a member of my family yesterday.
While this woman was not very close to us in recent history, she was at one point someone we cared about.

There was no personal reason for our loss of contact in recent years. No horrible tragedies or awful disagreements, but only that she became the victim of neglect and she didn't deserve it. She became a forgotten, inconvenient soul in the end and for that I am sad. Her life was a cautionary tale and I wonder if in her advanced years, sort of gave up. Falling victim to the cancer we surprisingly found out about in the end. There will be no memorial, no services or finger sandwiches and coffee with memories. Just silence for her soul.

I speak of her today so that she may know that her memory lives on in me. And the love I once felt for a family member meant something. Love is real, but never logical. Love is the only thing we know to be true.

I want you all to know that she mattered and that she was loved and anyone to else that reads this too. So she will know someone cared.

"Can We Talk?"

I'm devastated by yesterday's news of Joan Rivers passing.

She was one of a kind, an icon, a pioneer in the industry. She will be mourned and missed by all who loved and knew her. And I was one of them. Joan went before she possibly should have, the result of a routine throat surgery she probably didn't need. Tragic. I was fortunate enough to see her in person last November and I'm glad I did. She was spectacular! Pure Joan, uncensored and politically incorrect but nonetheless hilarious and heartwarming. I am a huge fan and today I'm sad she has left us.

The piece below debuted here on August 21, 2012. I was already Joan Rivers fan but gained a new found love/appreciation for the woman that was Joan Rivers when I watched the 2010 documentary on Joan, "Piece of Work".

The Joan Ranger's salute you. RIP Joan.

She Hates Everybody

I'm a Joan Ranger.

I love Joan Rivers. Yes, I know, she's crass, mean, insulting and mostly inappropriate, but she's hilarious and she always leaves me laughing.

She is currently starring in two shows; one reality show on WE TV called "Joan and Melissa" and "Fashion Police" on E.

On "Fashion Police", she is incredibly funny yet politically incorrect in her impeccably timed Joan Rivers way. She commands the floor with her panel of fashion "experts", but make no mistake, Joan is the show. It's well worth the watch.

I became a fan a couple of years ago when I came across the documentary "Joan Rivers. Piece of Work." It released in Jan 2010 and was filmed during one year of Joan Rivers life when she was 75 years old. It followed her through her crazy, schedule of appearances and performances.

This lady works. I gained an incredible appreciation for her work ethic. She was non-stop. Joan makes no bones about the fact that she has to work to support her opulent lifestyle, yet she admits to needing the work to boost her self esteem.

Notorious for her abuse of plastic surgery, Joan admits quite openly to being very insecure. She does it all too. At the time of filming, Joan was still working every day, attending several personal appearances, doing comedy shows and regularly traveling across country. A schedule that would have made even a younger person, question why. Yet Joan seemed to revel in it, and she hardly complained.

This lady is no dumb blonde, either. Fresh off her "Celebrity Apprentice" win in 2009, "Piece of Work" showed Rivers the business woman for the shrewd artisan she is. Her jewelry line is one of QVC's most successful sellers to date and that is just one of the many projects that Joan is attached to.

I hope to God that when I am her age, I have half the stamina that she has. And that's not something you can buy from a plastic surgeon. You gotta have hutzpah! Forbes has estimated Rivers net worth at $290 million, and that's a hell of a lot of hutzpah.

Say what you will about her.
She's probably already heard it and incorporated it into her act and made it ten times funnier. 

"Wake Up Baby! Your Life Is Calling!"

So by now if you've been following The Daily Dandy for a bit you undoubtedly know that I am an extreme helicopter mom... Yes...that is me in the cartoon above.

I'm on my way to bring my baby to the rest of his life.

Have a great weekend bloggers....and try to hold on for just a bit longer if you can.
xoxo

"If Women Ruled The World, We Wouldn't Have War. We Would Have Intense Negotiations Every 28 Days."

Watch this and tell me if it doesn't make you sad today. Gone too soon.

RIP Robin..

La Vida Loca

Hey Bloggers! It's Friday and today I will attend the wake of a way too young member of my extended hometown family. The news of her passing threw us all for a loop here because she was/is each and everyone of us. Mother, daughter, woman wife, friend and confidant. I'm not going to say much more about it. What I will say it was the C word and I hate the C word. A lot.

I have chosen to live life and celebrate that I am living, breathing and trying to be healthy. I am celebrating that I am happy, in her honor.
I know this is so cliched and over played but I choose to keep it as my weekend mantra:

Happy weekend bloggers! Be happy we are alive!

A Little Nonsense Now And Then Is Relished By The Best Of Men..

Got some bad news yesterday and I feel like laughter would be the best medicine today...

I Was Just Going To Say...

I intended to talk about happy Christmas music today, but it just doesn't seem right in this forum.

The Pat's played one heck of a second half last night, but this morning it doesn't really matter. My beloved Boston Herald and I, together this morning have set the tone for the day.

As much as I try, and generally succeed in going on with my life, those little faces, the unspeakable horror creeps in and causes me to hold my children close. Frozen almost, in fear of what could happen, a constant reminder of the evil that lives among us.

I heard my daughter say, "I don't want to talk about it," and I was frozen again, unable to move the important conversation forward. I don't think I wanted to talk about it either. But I did talk to my son. I had to explain to him that his high school will be on lock down today. That visitors must make arrangements to gain entry and that he cannot enjoy the privilege of open campus any longer. He understood completely, once he realized how quickly copy cats can strike and how precious life is.

I know it won't always feel like this. I know I'll tell funny and inappropriate jokes and talk about the frivolousness of life again soon on The Daily Dandy. I just knew it couldn't be today. It doesn't feel right.

I also know I'll try to never forget. I can do that for them. It's just about the only thing I can do for them.

So This Is Really It.

This is it.

Her time has come. It's time to leave the big nest and fly. Fly she will, of that I have no doubt. It's me I'm worried about. How am I ever going to get through this? I'm gonna miss her so much it already hurts like crazy. What will I do without my baby girl?

Truth is, I'll be fine. I did the exact same thing that she is doing this weekend 28 years ago and it was one of the greatest experiences of my life. Part of me is jumping up and down for her in excitement, and part of me is dying inside. She's going to be great. She's going to thrive. She's going to fall in love with her city. HER city, because that's what it is now. And I've never been more confident that she's going to be EXACTLY where she belongs.

The pride is swelling up in my throat, right next to the lump that is omni-present these last days. I know I have to let her fly free. But part of her is holding back too, and I wonder if she's picking up on what I'm feeling. Part of her is scared and part of her does not want to go. But we both know that this is good for all of us. This is what growing up is all about. This is what all that hard work was for. One look at her and I know I've done good. She's awesome, and I couldn't be more proud of who she has become. Keep her safe New York city. She's my whole world.

So, I'm embarking on this journey with her today and because I'm a helicopter hover-er, I'm staying  in the city until Monday. I will not be returning to the bloggersphere until Tuesday, August 28, 2012.

She's going to be great.
I'm going to be a mess.

I'm going to try to play it cool in front of her because this isn't about me.
God grant me the strength to get through.

"Children have to be educated, but they have also to be left to educate themselves."-Ernest Dimnet

Only The Good Die Young

I got some news last night that was just shocking.

We were at Frick's boyfriend's (yup, Hairball's back in picture) graduation party, enjoying the festive evening. I'm talking in a circle with about 4 other senior moms chatting and laughing, when I feel my cell phone vibrate in my back pocket. I had my cell with me only because Frick was at a call back for an audition for a show she's going to do this summer and because it was making her late for Hairball's party, she was freaking out texting me every five minutes to let me know she would be another 10 minutes, another 20 mins, etc.

This time I figured it was Frick, and mid conversation I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw a text from the woman I do business together with at the store. It read, quite simply, that "The Long Talker"  had suffered a massive heart attack and died yesterday. I must have gasped quite loud, because the women I was speaking with all turned to me and asked if I was OK. I couldn't speak for a moment. I felt numb. It seriously hit me like a ton of bricks and I simply turned my cell phone around to show them the text. I regained my composure and continued on with the conversation, but I was only half there.


I couldn't get The Long Talker out of my mind.


Now, since I wrote the about The Long Talker some three years ago, he has become a good friend. I have not worked with him in over two years, but I continued to see him quite regularly. He continued to work for my friend in her store and he worked for my parents last Christmas. The Long Talker, while he could talk starving dogs off a meat truck, was one of the sweetest human beings in the world. He was a deeply religious and spiritual man, and was both caring and giving to all who he came in contact with.


The Long Talker was one of the good ones.


He was a genius in his work, but was not a fan of the technological revolution and I think it hurt him down the road. I noticed a change in him last January 2011. He lost his beloved dog, and he never regained that jovial smile he once had. I mentioned it to our co-workers and they all agreed. Something was lost. I'm not sure what, but The Long Talker had lost a step. Even in his work. Looking back now, 2011 was not a good year for him, as he had a falling out with my friend, but I continued to keep up with him, even though he was not doing day to day business with us any longer.  

His wife said that yesterday he was gardening outside and came in to the house, not feeling well. He went to get a glass of water, sat down to drink it and dropped dead right there. He had just turned 60 years old. I'm devastated, really. You never know how important a person is in your life until you realize you will never see him/her again. I hope he is at peace now, and his jovial smile has returned to his sweet face. May God bless his soul and keep him in his good grace. I pray for his family to have the strength to endure life without him.

He was truly one of the good ones.

Ode To Jim

(this is not Jim. this is who came up when I typed "happy guy" in google)

I want to tell you about my friend Jim. I've been thinking about him lately, almost daily, as I make myself a sandwich for lunch before going off to work. This Jim is not my funny, commenter friend Jim, so let me explain.

I live in a small town that has one of those little "boutique" supermarkets. It has almost everything you need, at twice the price and on most occasions, it suits my needs just fine. But as I said, it has almost everything. Every once in a while I need to travel over two towns to the big supermarket that has absolutely everything I need. Since I opened my store in September and I began all the construction mid-summer, I have been crazy busy enough not to be able to travel to the big supermarket since the fall. So two Sunday's ago I made the trip to the big supermarket. Upon entering, I did all the normal things that I do at said market, went through the produce, got what I needed and went over to the Deli. I got my number at the Deli counter, and then I looked for Jim.

Jim was an older gentleman who presided over the deli counter for years. His white hair, tucked neatly under the maroon baseball cap of his uniform, worked to set off the sparkle in his piercing, Irish, blue eyes. Jim was the jolliest of souls, always quick with a smile and a hello, and we got to know each other in those few, short exchanges we had over sliced Genoa Salami throughout the years. Jim knew me by name and I knew him by name. He would always start with a, "Hello Candace! What a pleasure it is to see you." I would return the pleasantries. We both loved the Red Sox, Celtics, Pats and B's, and I would always forgo my numbered turn until Jim was available to help me. I knew about his new car, and how proud of it he was, and he knew about my children and their recent triumphs.

Jim wasn't always working on the days I went to the big market, so I wasn't surprised at all last Sunday to find that Jim was not at the counter. There was a slew of young guns, manning the deli slicers, hurrying to get through the masses of customers. When it was my turn, I placed my order, then inquired, "Where's Jim? Is he off today?" The young man looked at me with a blank expression. "Jim?" he said. "I don't know any Jim." I looked over at the other younggin standing next to him and he said, "No Jim works here."

Huh???? Ok, I thought, rookies.

I then saw the two younggins whisper something to each other and then one turned to me and said, quite matter of factly, "I think Jim died."

"No..." was my immediate response, and my heart took on the weight of an anvil at that very moment. I was stunned and numb, but I continued on with my order, with a quiet sadness I was unable to avoid. As I thanked the young man, and proceeded to move on to the rest of the market a bit dumbfounded, a woman from the deli counter came from behind and approached me. She told me how Jim had died, that he had gotten sick and went quick. No suffering. She had gone to see him in the hospital and Jim told her that he wanted no one to cry for him. He was happy. I told her about the last time I had seen him, and how happy he was about his new car, and just about my brief but meaningful exchanges with Jim.Both of us stood in the center of the produce aisle, tears brimming in our eyes. Then I said, "You know, you never realize how someone touches your life until it's too late. Even at the deli counter in the supermarket and just for a few brief moments, but they have touched you."

I was so grateful to her for telling me Jim's story because although I didn't realize it then, I needed to know he was at peace when he went. And today, two weeks later, as I made my lunch for work, I thought of my friend Jim and decided to write this ode to him. Someone who I didn't know at all, really, but somehow Jim left an impression on me. As I wipe the tears from my eyes today, I ask you to quietly let someone in your life, no matter how big or small, know they matter. Before it's to late.

And somehow, I think Jim now knows that he mattered to me.