Gone but Not Forgotten

November is a sad month for me. Three people who touched my life indescribably passed away in November. Time has not healed the pain left by their abrupt departures. However, their memories comfort me. So, in honor of them, today’s blog is a tribute to these three wonderful souls.

Alexis
I met Alexis at work when I was pregnant with my first son. We shared an instant connection. We were both English majors in college. She was extremely well read and intellectual, but never flaunted her knowledge or made anyone feel uncomfortable. We often discussed writing a series of books together—a passion we both shared and never had time for. Genuine and real, Alexis was easy to like.

Coming off of a disappointing divorce, she was in the process of rebuilding her life and doing her darndest to make ends meet and be happy. She took on an extra job at a local landscaping nursery; she loved the outdoors. We’d speak about flowers. Once she came across blue/purple alyssum seeds and gave me a packet because she knew I liked them.

After I moved to California, we lost touch until mid-2007 when a mutual friend of ours told me that Alexis had been battling a deadly disease. I reached out to her and she replied—optimistic as ever. After spending months in the hospital, her last update was filled with a positive outlook: she felt better and was hoping the doctors would release her soon so she could go home.

That day never came.

Alexis passed away in November 2007.

Easy friendship, honest, unpretentious, organic, healthy (she exercised every day and ate impeccably well), kind, caring, supportive, sweet, smart

Alexis was a good soul and a blessing to have known for such a short time. Alyssum fills my gardens today. Every time I pass by them, I’m reminded of our sweet but brief friendship.

Andrea
Junior year of college was filled with many changes for me—the biggest and most challenging of which was my first year as a resident assistant. Luckily, my honors students were as wonderful and fun as they were incredibly smart.

Andrea was the outgoing life of every party. She was friendly with everyone and fiercely loyal to her close friends. Boy crazy and fun loving, she was also immensely deep, kind, and brilliant—intellectually and personally.

Post college, we kept in touch via e-mail over the years. I remember her feeling sick frequently and eventually her health interfered with her work. After testing, she was diagnosed with leukemia. She never complained to me. Her updates were always filled with hope, trying new tests and treatments when others failed.

In the summer of 2007, I headed back to Pennsylvania to celebrate my sister’s bridal shower and wedding. Both visits were packed solidly with non-stop responsibilities and events. Both times Andrea asked to get together with me. Both times, I regretfully had to decline.

If only…If only I had known then, what I know now. I had no idea how seriously her condition had deteriorated. On November 29, 2007, Andrea lost her battle with the disease.

Passionate, fun, inspiring, hopeful, positive, motivating, vibrant, a true star among a midnight blue blanket of normalcy

Andrea remains in my memory as the optimistic, whirlwind force of nature she was when I first met her. Her hopeful outlook on life is one that continues to inspire me today.

Keresztpapa (My Godfather)
I miss him. Miss him terribly. This November 5th marked the 20th anniversary of his death and it still hurts as much as it did then.

My dad’s parents died when he was a teenager. My godparents (my dad’s brother and sister-in-law), who were much older than him, brought him to the United States from Hungary and helped him get started here. My godfather fulfilled the role of grandfather for me. There was never a doubt in my mind that he loved me. He was firm but kind and always up to something—he was playful and loved to tease me and my siblings. Then there were the presents—the rocking horse on springs which reminded me of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, the enormous stuffed bunny for my 3rd Easter, and, who can forget, the live, white rabbit he surprised me (and my parents) with on another Easter.

I watched him play cards and drink with my dad and his closest friends. He was always telling stories and laughing—though I’d seen him get into rather serious conversations and debates with my dad, who was more like an overly-opinionated son to him than little brother.

Twenty years ago, my cousin called to tell us that he passed away unexpectedly overnight due to complications from leukemia. The shock and the pain of this ripped my entire family to shreds. Somehow we managed to get through that week, but the emptiness brought on by his absence was—and still is—physically palpable.

Despite the two decades separating us from the day he crossed over, I can still hear his voice call me “Kis Szivem,” Hungarian for “My Little Heart.” Whether it’s a manifestation of our missing him or a call from the other side, he’s visited me and the rest of my family in our dreams. Ironically, he’s always at the center of a party and having a blast. The dreams are never sad and just his way of letting us know he’s still with us.

Some people touch our lives for a brief moment, yet their impact is undeniable and permanent. Others play bigger roles in our being and their mark on us is like a tattoo that can never fully be erased.

The main lesson I’ve learned from all the deaths of family and friends over the years is to make the most of every minute with those around you. We never know when their time, or ours, will be up.

Alexis, Andrea, and my godfather were taken too soon. I find great comfort in knowing that we’ll see each other again in the next life. For me right now, they live on through the happy memories we shared and the pictures that speak a thousand words in the empty silence they’ve left behind.

History of Halloween

Ghosts. Goblins. Witches. Monsters. Pumpkins. Candy corn. Ghost stories. Horror movies. Costumes. Haunted houses. Hayrides.

Halloween has long been celebrated as a fun-filled holiday of spooky treats. Actually, it’s second only to Christmas as the most profitable holiday and about half of American households celebrate it.*

But there’s so much more to the day itself than the merrymaking we enjoy today.

Halloween, also known as All Hallows Eve and Samhain, has marked the end of the harvest season for thousands of years. It was a festive, pagan occasion celebrating the harvesting of the last crops. Ingrained in those ancient cultures was also a deep-rooted belief of ancestor worship. Honoring and remembering those who came before them was integral in their spiritual belief system.

Marking the end of summer’s fruitful abundance and beginning of fall/winter’s season of death or dormant period, it’s easy to understand why the ancients believed that at this time of year or on this day in particular the veil between our living world and the spirit world was thinnest, allowing an easy way to communicate with those who’ve passed on. Since ancestors were thought of with love and longing, there was nothing scary about this day. There was no fear of the dead. Though they believed in an afterlife, heaven and hell were foreign concepts back then.

While the dead weren’t feared, the living spirits of impish fairies and elves caused enough mischief to terrify the pastoral countrysides. Of course, the mischief’s source was human and it laid the foundation for the beginning of our Mischief Night on October 30th.

As early Christianity took hold in Rome, many pagan festivities and beliefs succumbed (at knife point) to the new religion. In order to convert pagans more easily, Christianity incorporated some of the ancient practices. Fairies were considered demons and devils and the spirits of beloved family members were reduced to horrifying ghosts. With the introduction of these new ideas, the traditional, celebratory beliefs of Samhain took on a scarier tone as those in charge exploited pagan superstitions surrounding an otherwise joyous occasion. (To be fair, Christian belief was just as deep as that of the ancient pagans and the church felt it was their duty to save the pagans from eternal damnation. Of course, scholars/historians have also conjectured that less honorable motives may also have been involved.)

As Christianity assimilated some pagan beliefs, All Hallows Eve (October 31) extended to All Saints Day (November 1) and All Souls Day (November 2). The celebration was intended to honor all those who have died.

While we’d like to think that celebrating the dead is an old-fashioned pagan practice, it’s actually alive and well all around the world in cultures spanning from Asia and Europe to the Americas. Occasionally, these days of remembrance also include the idea of New Year’s celebrations (honoring the end of one aspect of life followed by celebrating the future).

So, as you don scary, silly, and sexy costumes for this night of fright and send out your kids for the tricks and treats in which they delight, say a prayer for those who’ve passed away to keep those “evil” spirits at bay :)

Happy Halloween!

Sources:
"Halloween" by Silver Ravenwolf
* "The Real Story of Halloween" - History Channel
Picture of me and Jeff is from 1998.

Media's Blood Suckers

No, I don’t mean the media’s bloodthirsty, ratings hungry producers and talent (though this would be a great blog post; another day perhaps). I’m talking about vampires in film.

Vampires have been around for thousands of years. However, thanks to a tuberculosis epidemic at the end of the nineteenth century, their presence among us resurged. Inspired by the outbreak and a couple of real-life characters, Bram Stoker started the modern obsession with his character, Count Dracula. From there, vampires transformed into pop culture phenomenon.

Listed below are my top 5 vampire movies. Click on the images or links below to see the trailers and/or movie clips.
#5 – Dracula – Bela Lugosi introduced the suave and dapper—and very much Hollywood polished—modern vampire in this classic 1931 film. His real Hungarian accent and dark, confident presence certainly helped create the image of an all-powerful, romantic vampire leading man. Scary but beautiful. (It’s easy to see the evolution to Twilight’s Edward Cullen).
#4 – The Little Vampire – Ok, I know. This is not a major movie blockbuster, so why is it on the list? It’s a kids' version of the vampire tale and a great confidence builder for kids who don’t quite fit in anywhere. The lesson learned is that friends can be found in the least likely places (like an old, decrepit graveyard) and true friends help each other regardless of the risks they might face. It’s an excellent family movie where the bullies get what they deserve and the hero who saves the day is the underdog.
#3 – Interview with the Vampire – A favorite of mine because it peaked my interest in vampires as a teen—Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise, Christian Slater, and Antonio Banderas helped too. Anne Rice’s novel of the same name brought to life a romanticized tale of life, relationships, and lots of death. The last scene of the movie is the reason why I always check the back seat of my car before I get in at night.
#2 – Nosferatu – This is a must see for anyone interested in the undead. Inspired by the traditional view of vampires (dead creatures who don’t look human anymore), Max Schreck’s creepy interpretation captures the idea of the modern vampire. Filmed in 1922, this black and white German movie makes fantastic use of the monochromatic scheme as a representation of good and evil. (If you’re watching this and 1931’s “Dracula” for the first time, don’t judge them by modern standards. Most of the actors were accomplished stage performers and the switch from stage to screen was still being developed, as were special effects, make up and countless other things we expect to see these days.)
#1 – Twilight Saga – Seriously, what’s not to like? It’s Romeo & Juliet set in the supernatural world. A young couple fights to stay together despite the odds and the fact they shouldn’t be together for various (and practical) reasons. Edward Cullen and his “vegetarian” vampire family are quintessential, 21st century vampires – denying their thirst for human blood because they don’t want to be monsters. They’re vampires with consciences and a capacity to love and find connections with those outside their forbidden world. Add in a group of traditional vampires who don’t share the Cullen’s alternate lifestyle and a pack of wolves hell bent on destroying all of them and it makes for a perfect, tension filled vampire romance. (Can't wait for New Moon!! [trailer, extended Volturi scene] NOTE: a 30 second ad plays before the trailer.)

Since a top 7 list just sounds ridiculous, I’m adding these as honorable mentions:
#2 – Bram Stoker’s Dracula – Gary Oldman. Need I say more?
#1 – Dracula: Dead & Loving It – The funniest freakin’ parody of Dracula I’ve ever seen. Leslie Nielsen is hilarious in this Mel Brooks’ take on its serious Hollywood counterparts. However, the scene-stealer award goes to Peter MacNicol for his insane and outrageous performance as Renfield.

Who’s your favorite vampire? Leave a comment below.

A Case for Ghosts: When Kids See the Supernatural -- Ghost Gab Week, Day 4

I’m what you’d call a skeptical believer. I think most supernatural experiences can be explained by natural causes like the wind, a house settling, other living people, and concentrated quantities of electromagnetic frequencies (EMF) which make people feel uneasy (EMFs are said to be given off by ghosts who draw on the energy around them in order to manifest. EMF is found in pretty much any device which uses or produces energy [electrical boxes, generators, cell phones, etc.]).

It’s easy to sway adults by the power of suggestion. Tell them they’re in a haunted house and they’ll assume the things they hear and experience are attributed to the other side. But children who don’t know the meaning of words like haunted and ghosts aren’t subject to the power of suggestion. Are the things they see real or imagined?

In April 2008, I took my children for a tour of the USS Hornet, an aircraft carrier that participated in World War II and in the recovery of the Apollo 11 space mission. This massive ship saw some of the toughest battles during the war in the Pacific. Today it’s a museum docked peacefully in Alameda, Calif. with numerous retired aircraft perched on its upper deck. It was a dream come true for my boys to be able to visit a real ship and touch real fighter planes.

An added bonus for me: the USS Hornet is also known for its numerous hauntings. This is a little fact I did not share with my boys on the trip. At six years old, my older son knew what ghosts were. My two year old had no idea what ‘ghost’ or ‘haunted’ meant and I intended to keep it that way for as long as possible. Little did I know that fate was about to force my hand in the matter.

After touring the vessel, I took my two year old to the bathroom located in the bow. The restrooms were at the end of a long, neutral-colored corridor void of any decorations. As we neared the end of the empty hallway, my son came to an abrupt stop. I asked him what was wrong and he shook his head. I tugged on his hand to pull him forward but he resisted forcefully and stepped backwards. I looked at him and realized his eyes were fixated on the corner of the hallway where it bent to the left leading to the bathrooms’ entrances.

I knelt beside him as he continued to stare at whatever was in the completely empty corner. There were no shadows and no mirrors that could’ve cast a reflection. I saw nothing. While his face was twisted in the strangest look of fear, confusion, and interest, his eyes didn’t not budge from the corner.

Changing my line of questioning, I asked him what he was looking at. This time he replied, “soldier.” He knew this word from playing with his brother’s GI Joes and looking at the pictures of the ship’s soldiers which lined some of the rooms below deck. I asked him if the soldier was doing anything, and he shook his head. I told him to say “hi” to the soldier and he waved his hand quickly, bashfully. Reassuring him that he didn’t need to be afraid of the soldier, I was able to coax him closer to end of the hallway (his eyes never moved from the soldier) until we turned the corner to the bathroom and he rushed backwards smacking into the wall behind him and then he inched down the hall again when he looked into the corner beside him.

He explained that another soldier was standing at the very end of the hallway beside the men’s bathroom’s entrance. I told him to say “hi” to that soldier as well but he said that soldier was gone. Since the second apparition distracted him sufficiently, I was able to pull him into the women’s bathroom. As I was about to change his diaper, he stopped me. He pointed to the wall across from us in the bathroom, and said “soldier.” Apparently, the first soldier followed us into the bathroom.

If you’ve ever had the feeling that someone’s watching you, imagine being watched while you’re in a bathroom. Eventually the soldier disappeared through the far wall beside one of the stalls (as my son explained to me) and I was able to finish up with him. Two things struck me as odd. First, I felt an eerie presence from the minute I stepped onto the ship. I chalked it up to the power of suggestion since I knew some of the ship’s haunted history. In the bathroom, the hair on my neck and arms was standing on end and I felt we weren’t alone, though there were no living presences anywhere near us. Second, my son hadn’t reached the age of “storytelling” yet—the age when kids begin to invent stories to explain things. He was terrified and intrigued by whatever he saw and he didn’t move his eyes from the apparition until it was completely gone.

I have no explanation for what happened that day other than to say he experienced something supernatural. A ghost? Maybe. Maybe not. I see ghosts as residual energy, a person who left an imprint of themselves on a particular area which replays itself and doesn’t interact with people. To me, a spirit is capable of communicating with the living. And why do I think this? Because about 27 years prior to my son’s experience, the same thing happened to me.

It was late at night and I was wide awake. I had to go to the bathroom and screamed for my mom to take me—I hated the dark. So she walked me into the bathroom and as I was staring at the red towels hanging off of the rack, a bright light flashed in front of me. In the middle of the bright, white light, a beautiful, perfect child’s face appeared. He wasn’t a baby, but he wasn’t an older child either. Perhaps a toddler. He had creamy skin and rosy cheeks and his auburn hair gleamed with golden highlights. He spoke to me but I was too preoccupied with being terrified at the unexpected sight to hear what he was saying. Then as quickly as he appeared, he vanished. I turned to my mom and explained what I could. Being so young, I was only able to really say ‘light’ and ‘pretty baby.’ Still, she validated my vision by listening to my story. Years later she told me that she couldn’t see what I saw, but she knew something was happening because my eyes were wide open, fully aware, and transfixed.

Was my vision a ghost? I don’t think so. He was actively speaking to me and there was truly nothing terrifying about him. Spirit? Perhaps. We still speculate as to who it might have been. I wonder if it was my older brother who passed away before I was born.

Regardless, my personal experience as a child cannot be dismissed as a figment of imagination. I was too young to know what ghosts, spirits, or even angels were at the time. All I knew was what I saw and I didn’t make that up.

Believe the stories or not. It doesn’t matter to me. I’m not out to convince others about the existence of ghosts; I only know what’s true for me. I’ve had a lifetime of experiences to tell me the supernatural is real in one form or another. Do I know exactly what’s out there? Nope. But I know this: something beyond our comprehension and logical reason does exist.

Romancing the Ghost -- Ghost Gab Week, Day 3

Ghosts are a hot topic and great cash cow in TV today. From CBS’s fictional “Medium” to SyFy’s real-life “Ghost Hunters,” ghosts are making their way out of the public’s nightmares and into primetime entertainment. Romanticized as brooding entities trying to connect with loved ones, TV “spirits” are portrayed through living, human eyes. Whether fiction or real, ghost TV is the latest genre du jour. Here are some of the popular ghost shows dominating nighttime programming.

Ghost Whisperer (CBS)
Medium (CBS)
Ghost Hunters (SyFy)
Ghost Adventures (Travel Channel)
Paranormal State (A&E)
Most Haunted (Travel Channel)
The Other Siders (Cartoon Network)

Whether or not you believe in ghosts, the shows above are great for entertainment purposes. If you can look past the screaming, swearing, and “hope we caught that on camera” moments that often don’t materialize, the reality shows are interesting. As a skeptic, it’s easy to poke holes into the real shows featuring investigators because oftentimes there are so many extraneous variables that can cause the phenomenon. However, shows like Ghost Adventures are worth a viewing since the group locks itself into haunted places without interference from the outside world. Watching three, tough-looking adult guys become terrified by unexplained anomalies is worth an hour on Friday night.

As viewers we have to take their words for it, but if the things these TV sleuths catch on scientific equipment are real (shadow figures, disembodied voices and noises, and physical manifestations like touches or projectiles), there’s a whole new world that deserves to be explored.

Source: Image of Ghost Adventures team

Hearing Voices - Ghost Gab Week, Day 2

From Philly’s Eastern State Penitentiary to California’s Missions and everywhere in between, average, normal people witness hauntings every day. The question is: are these things real or are they figments of our overactive imaginations?

Paranormal speculation suggests there are two types of hauntings. The first is residual energy, meaning that the same activity plays over and over again like an imprint of time left on a particular place (e.g. an apparition cooking by the stove who can be seen once a week at the same time doing the same activity but does not react to a living person’s presence). The second is considered an intelligent haunting where unseen entities can respond to a living environment, like investigators’ questions, by communicating through sounds (tapping on a wall), appearing physically, or replying verbally.

Paranormal investigators use a slew of equipment to try to capture the other side on tangible evidence. Probably the most popular method is the use of EVPs (electronic voice phenomenon) which record voices/sounds supposedly from the other side. Some investigators use digital recorders in controlled settings (no other people are allowed in the vicinity who could create sounds which would interfere with a recording). In “haunted” houses, investigators search for signs of intelligent spirits, so they often ask questions and hope the recorder will pick up answers not heard by human ears. The thought here is that spirits communicate on different frequencies which aren’t always heard by the living.

For those not involved in investigations, EVPs provide an interesting and entertaining possibility. Is communication with the dead achievable? However in this day and age with advanced technology, it can be very easy to fake an EVP. Unfortunately, we have to take the investigators’ words for it, which to a skeptic or a believer trying to convince non-believers just isn’t good enough.

Still, the idea of hearing the dead or, even better, speaking to them is intriguing. What if it is possible?

Check out the recordings below. If they’re fake, at least they’re interesting. If they’re real, there are some wondrous and terrifying entities lurking around us.

Ghost Adventures EVPs (Travel channel)

Ghost Hunters EVP (SyFy channel)

Paranormal State – What is an EVP? (A&E channel)

And…just because…Paranormal State with Father Bob expelling evil spirits (NOTE: the first minute of the video just sets up the rest)

Source: Image (Al Capone's cell at Eastern State Penitentiary)

To Believe or Not to Believe - Ghost Gab Week, Day 1

Ghosts are considered the disembodied spirits of dead people. According to a poll run by the General Social Survey in 1996, 82% of Americans believe in life after death. However, only about a third of Americans believe in ghosts.

Are ghosts real? What do you believe? Copy the questions below into the “Comment” box (click on the “Comment” link at the bottom of this article) and submit your answers anonymously. Please forward this to as many people as possible. Results will be calculated later this month.

Do you believe in life after death?
Do you think ghosts might exist?
Do you believe that ghosts do exist?
Have you had an unexplainable encounter with what may have been a ghost?

Source: 1936 photo taken by Captain Provand and Indre Shira at Raynham Hall in Norfolk, England.

There’s a Little Witch in Everyone - Witch Week, Day 5

“Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake.
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Alder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting,
Lizard’s leg and owlet’s wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Double, double, toil and trouble,
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble”
~ Shakespeare’s “The Tragedy of MacBeth”

Thanks to Shakespeare’s vivid imagery, witches have been immortalized and “typecast” as cauldron-brewing hags cavorting with a pagan goddess and spirits for the past four hundred plus years.

Though “eye of newt and toe of frog” have come to be associated with witches’ evil practices, they also speak to the important use of objects and images. Symbolism is a keystone for practicing Wiccans. Plants, symbols, seasons, colors, and scents all represent important facets of life’s cyclical nature. Witches use these elements in food, meditation, clothing, and spells.

Here’s a shocker. It’s not so different from what the rest of the world does.

Every faith uses symbols to remind followers of specific people or events (Christianity’s crucifix, advent wreath, unity candle; Judaism’s Star of David; Islam’s crescent moon). It’s blatant in our holidays: Christmas trees, menorahs, clover, pumpkins, and cornucopia. Colors represent significant times of the year: red for Valentine’s Day, red/white/blue for 4th of July, black/orange for Halloween, blue for Hanukkah, and red/green for Christmas.

Colors and scents in candles are also popular among consumers who use them not only for ambient light but fragrance as well. Aromatherapy is a popular way to treat stress and other ailments as the scents help people relax.

Ok, so you get my point. Many of the tools witches use in their everyday lives and holidays are no different from the colors, scents, and symbols used by the masses to mark special occasions or aid in their daily routines. What sets the witches apart is that they combine these elements to maximize and bring about a desired effect. Combined with a spell, they’re able to envision the outcome and make it happen.

“Spells” sound mysterious. In reality, they’re the equivalent of prayers. The difference is that spells are said to the witches’ pantheons instead of one God. Witches often create their own spells. In order for the spell to work, they really need to believe what they are saying. If they’re just reciting words, nothing will happen. In Christianity, I’ve often heard the phrase, “The power of prayer.” The same is true of Wiccan spells. Spells/prayers only work if people truly believe in them.

Most spells contain the following: acknowledgment of the creator or a specific god, a request, and a tie to nature (earth, air, fire, water / north, south, east, west / sun, moon, stars, etc.). Spells are frequently repeated three times because one’s conviction grows with the repetition. Most importantly, spells are never (I repeat NEVER) to be used to harm someone else. For example, love spells can ask for love to enter someone’s life but it cannot be at the expense of the requestor’s object of affection.

If you’re interested or willing to take a plunge into witchy-ness, try the following to help relieve stress in your life. I’m not suggesting you pray to pagan gods, but you can use the elements below to strengthen your prayers and wishes to whomever you worship.
Candles: white to symbolize new beginnings and clearing mental space; turquoise to protect against negativity; blue to calm the stress, chaos in your life
Scents / Aromatherapy: lavender is a purifying scent and helps you relax; chamomile provides tranquility and peace; clove clears the mind; dragon’s blood cleanses negativity---WARNING: don’t use all the scents together. Pick the one you like best.
Things to do: take a bath with bath salts of the scents mentioned above, or make a dream pillow using a combination of dried herbs (or buy one online)

• Buy a dream pillow from Sonoma Lavender Shop
• Make your own dream pillow

Foods:

• Eggs symbolize many things. Seen as elements that bring about healing, protection, and the banishment of curses among other things, make yourself a dish that celebrates the egg (egg noodles with sauce of your choice, eggs over easy symbolize the sun, French toast, egg salad, etc.).
• Or you can try a drink instead: Joy Juice (6 large strawberries [or raspberries/blackberries], 5 crushed ice cubes, ½ a navel orange (peeled), ¼ cup orange juice, 1 tsp. sugar. Directions: Mix in blender until smooth. “Magical” properties: revitalization, health, and happiness (“A Kitchen Witch’s Cookbook” by Patricia Telesco)

Spell: Create your own spell (prayer) and ask for the banishment of stress and for happiness, contentment, and positive/productive energy to replace it.

None of this is evil. It’s merely a way to enhance your praying experience. After all, spells, prayers, and actions are only as good as the intent behind them.

"I'll Get You My Pretty..." - Witch Week, Day 4

Media’s Spell Casting

Stories of witches have terrified people for thousands of years. The 20th and 21st centuries brought with them a new perspective on this long-feared community. Perhaps one of the most significant reasons for this mass breakthrough can be attributed to L. Frank Baum’s character, Glinda, the good witch, in his novel from 1900's, “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.”

From big screen to small screen, scary to silly, below is a collection of a few of my favorite witches through the years.
Enjoy!
(Who are your favorite TV/movie spell casters? Leave a comment with your answer.)

Wizard of Oz (1939)


Trick or Treat – Donald Duck Meets Witch Hazel (1952)


Looney Toons’ - Bewitched Bunny (1954)



Alvin and the Chipmunks – The Witch Doctor (1958)


Sleeping Beauty – Maleficent (1959)


Bewitched (1964 – 1972)
Bewitched - Halloween Party



Scooby Doo, Where Are you? Which Witch is Which? (1969)



Witches (1990)


Hocus Pocus (1993) – Cat Spell


Hocus Pocus (1993) – I Put a Spell on You


Hocus Pocus (1993) – Come Little Children


Sabrina the Teenage Witch (1996 – 2003)


Practical Magic (1998)


Casper Meets Wendy (1998)



Charmed (1998 – 2006)



Scooby Doo and the Witch’s Ghost (1999)


Twitches (2005)



Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince (2009)



All images, clips, and titles are the property of the production companies who own the rights to the movies/shows.

Witch Hunts...Today? - Witch Week, Day 3

Though 1692 marked a tragic year in early American history, it wasn’t the first or last witch hunt that ended in the murder of innocent people. The practice thrives in remote areas of the world including: South Africa, Nigeria, Kenya, Cameroon, Sierra Leon, and Papua New Guinea to name a few.

The accusers haven’t changed—zealous, naïve, uneducated Christians who interpret the bible literally. And the “witches” are still the easiest targets in the community. While some are elderly, the rest of these evil heretics may surprise you.

Children. Most are under ten.

Relying on priests and prophets to keep them safe from the devil’s workings and his followers, poor villagers follow “leaders” claiming to have a gift to identify witches. Children are accused of causing illnesses, death, famine…you name it. The parents pay priests to hire local villagers to beat, torture, or murder the children. The families then have to pay the priests for their family to be redeemed from the wickedness inflicted by the wicked child.

It’s a profitable business for the “priests” who own luxury cars and elaborate homes while their followers can’t scrape together enough money to eat.

The lucky children die. The ones who survive are left with psychological scars that often outweigh the physical disfigurement they’ve endured—being set on fire, whipped, and poisoned. And worst of all, these babies, toddlers, and young children have to deal with the knowledge that their parents abandoned them willingly because they believed a stranger’s lies.

Some charities are trying to intervene and even individuals have opened their homes to rescue these forgotten castoffs at great risk to their own safety.

In addition to the horrible brutality taking place, this generational and community-backed genocide raise problematic concerns. How do you change a faith-based belief that’s so ingrained? What will it take to show the masses that the real evil is standing right in front of their eyes…and, sometimes, in their own reflections?

Sources:
CNN
The Observer /guardian.co.uk
Suite101.com – anthropology
Suite101.com – paganism/wicca

Remembering 1692 - Witch Week, Day 2

The Hysteria of 1692

Imagine:
• choosing the unknown wilderness of a relatively new territory over the deplorable living conditions of another country for a chance of practicing a faith without being persecuted
• having never-ending property disputes with your neighbor
• following a faith which believes your fate is predetermined by God and spending your life trying to figure it out by living a severe, pious life to please your Maker
• being a woman in a rigid patriarchal society who is expected to tend to the house and children in virtual, submissive silence
• having little to no education and explaining the weird and unknown through superstitions believed by almost everyone around you
• enduring one of the worst droughts ever which produced very meager crops for the residents of Salem Village—many of whom were farmers
• being interrogated, tried, and convicted for a crime you know you didn’t commit and no one will come forward to defend you for fear of being implicated
• believing the devil and evil witches were very real malignant characters lurking in your small town biding their time to turn the unsuspecting into one of their wicked followers
• standing in your innocence beneath the gallows staring into the eyes of your virtuous Christian “friends and neighbors” who eagerly await your death as a means to rid the town from the devil’s evil clutches

It all started on a cold, dreary winter day. Tituba, a slave from Barbados working for Salem Village’s minister, entertained the Reverend Parris’s nine-year-old daughter, Elizabeth, and her eleven-year-old cousin, Abigail. While Elizabeth’s parents spent the harsh Massachusetts’ winter visiting members of the parish, Tituba recounted intriguing stories of voodoo to the young girls. Containing titillating details, the group soon grew to about a dozen children and young women who were completely captivated by Tituba’s tales, which covered subjects and experiences considered taboo by the Puritan belief system.

While there is no evidence, it is believed that Tituba demonstrated her skills in voodoo and hypnosis on her audience because Elizabeth and Abigail developed post-hypnotic reactions such as staring blindly into space followed by fits of seizures. The local doctor couldn’t diagnose the girls’ symptoms and attributed them to being cast under a witch’s spell.

Reverend Parris badgered the girls demanding to know who inflicted this hysteria upon them and they reluctantly named Tituba along with two of the village’s least popular women. The women were questioned repeatedly and kept proclaiming their innocence. Tituba, figuring she’d just tell the magistrates what they wanted to hear, eventually “confessed” to being a witch having been tormented by the other two women along with a strange man from Boston and two other unidentifiable women from the community.

With the idea that witchcraft was spreading like wildfire throughout their tiny community, the magistrates and villagers alike became suspicious of everyone. The girls began naming new women and the accusations expanded from the poor and lowly parishioners of Salem Village to men and women of means including a former minister of the village and a wealthy merchant. The youngest to be jailed was four; the eldest, 71, was hanged.

Wide-spread panic turned to finger pointing where neighbors with land disputes or jealous tendencies came to “realize” that the reason others were acting strangely or un-neighborly must have been because they were witches. Those who dared defend the witches cast suspicion on themselves and often ended up in jail as well.

The girls became celebrities of sorts and other towns invited them to visit to weed out the evil there too. Eventually, the girls’ accusations grew absurd when they named prominent people, including the governor’s wife. The governor who had tried to stay clear of the proceedings interceded and disbanded the court which examined and sentenced the accused. He also suspended the executions of those remaining in jail at the zealous hands of the Lt. Governor who insisted they were guilty and had every intention of carrying out their hangings.

The facts:
• An unsteady political climate influenced the towns in America as the change in English sovereignty over the decades impacted how government was handled on this side of the pond.
• 1692 saw one of the worst droughts in Massachusetts’ history until that point. Naïve in their understanding of nature, the people easily made the connection that somehow God was displeased with them or the devil was interfering.
• 13 young women and girls accused hundreds of people of torturing them to join the devil’s forces.
• 19 men and women were hanged; 1 was pressed to death to ‘press the truth from him.’ Giles Cory’s final words were “More weight.”
• Those who “confessed” being witches were not executed because they recognized the evil of their ways and God would ultimately have to forgive them.
• After the trials ended, Tituba claimed that Reverend Parris beat her into confessing her witch cohorts and that her accusations were purely a result of his actions. Parris refused to bail Tituba from jail until she recanted the accusation. She refused and eventually a wealthy Virginian purchased her.
• None of those executed were convicted of their crimes with actual evidence. The afflicted girls claimed the witches’ specters were assaulting them. (A specter was supposedly a witch’s ghost or spirit sent forth by the devil to attack the girls.) The admissibility of spectral evidence was banned by an executive order, which the Salem Village magistrates directly disobeyed.
• One judge and the jurors apologized to the victims and their families for the proceedings and outcomes.
• Only one of the thirteen original “afflicted” girls apologized publicly.
• In addition to the initial group of girls, other villagers began accusing their neighbors. Motives ranged from turning attention away from themselves and feeling as though they played an important part in this event to getting revenge for “wrongs” committed against them or their families.

The result:
As with most driving forces behind any major change, the tragedy in Salem inspired the creation of our “innocent until proven guilty” system.

Sources:
The Witchcraft Hysteria of 1692 (Old Saltbox Publishing)
Salem Witch Trials, Documentary (The History Channel)

Witch Way - Witch Week, Day 1

What would Halloween be without witches? The Hollywood evolution of the witch has made them ugly, glamorous, sexy, and just downright intriguing. It’s no wonder that witches are the number one costume on October 31st.

What I find interesting is that over the course of the last century perceptions of witches changed drastically thanks in large part to the romanticizing of them through literature and media. European “witches” were still being executed well into the 18th century and witch hunts still exist today in remote areas. For hundreds of years, fear, ignorance, religious fanaticism and conflict have led to the murder of about 50,000 to several million people.*

Thanks to the shift in public opinion, today’s witches—many of whom prefer to be called Wiccans—enjoy religious protection by some governments.

Why would governments protect these “evil” people? They’ve fought a long uphill battle to show their practices, though not mainstream, are not about boiling bat’s blood, collecting eye of newt, and killing children to keep them young and beautiful. One prevalent misconception is that witches are Satanists. These are two separate “faiths” of sorts with witches living harmoniously in nature with a pagan pantheon while satanic worshippers reject God and His rules and take a more hedonistic approach to the here and now.

Today’s Wiccans try to live at one with nature using herbs and plants in conjunction with the moon’s phases and four seasons. True Wiccans abide by one main tenet: Harm None. Their belief in a Karma driven system of sorts means that whatever you put out into the world via your words and actions will come back to you.

Did evil witches ever exist? Probably. If stories from around the world are to be believed, then, yes, there were women and men who killed and tortured others for their gain. Are there any misguided witches today? Most likely. Just as there are good and bad people of any faith, so too there are ones practicing some alternate form of Wicca.

As we enter the witches’ high “holy” season to celebrate the end of the harvest and cycle of life (winter leads to spring planting which leads to summer growth and the fall harvest), remember there’s more to witches than their Harry Potter incarnations. Real witches may not be able to fly, but their very real hocus pocus honors their ancestors and celebrates the beauty and purpose of each season.

* Worldwide documentation varies on the exact figure as many more people died in prison awaiting trials than those who were actually executed and oftentimes, executions in remote areas weren't documented at all.

How Many Light Bulbs Does it Take to Make a Difference

The fall chill is in the air. Baseball playoffs, football season, Halloween and Thanksgiving are upon us. But there’s another side to the cool weather and candy gorging season. The days are getting shorter and that means lights are burning longer.

Unless you’ve been hiding in a cave for the past five years, you’ve probably noticed the push to replace regular incandescent light bulbs with compact fluorescent lamps (CFLs). This isn’t just another money-making scheme from manufacturers and electric companies. There’s a practical side to this switch which benefits you (and your wallet), the environment, and our future.

I’m no tree hugger, but I’ve seen the light (pun intended). Last year, I replaced about 50% of my 60 watt incandescent light bulbs with 15 watt or less CFLs. The light output remained the same, meaning I didn’t have to sacrifice the quality of light just because I was choosing a more eco-friendly option. The best part—I knocked about $50 off of my energy bill each month!

Thanks to my background working at a lighting company, I’ve had the opportunity to learn about lighting options first hand. Although consumer CFLs have existed for well over a decade, today’s quality CFLs are making a grand entrance at a retail level and holding their own against the archaic technology of incandescent light bulbs.

CFL Snap Shot
• Save up to 75% in energy costs; means more $ in your pocket (up to $30 over the life of the CFL)
• CFLs last up to ten times longer than regular light bulbs. Think about it: instead of changing light bulbs every few months, you only need to replace them once every few years. This also means spending less time and money buying wasteful incandescent light bulbs.
• Reduction in energy consumption means less energy needs to be generated at power plants which reduces carbon and mercury emissions.
• Available in many shapes and sizes—For those who still don’t like the swirly ice cream cone look of traditional CFLs, today’s styles come in household shapes like globes, decs and As (the ones you stick in your chandeliers and table/floor lamps)
• According to the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), each CFL prevents more than 450 lbs of greenhouse gas emissions.

Choosing the right CFL for Your Home
• Color – Most people prefer the soft glow of incandescent lights. The color creates a warm, inviting atmosphere. If you want the same appeal with the benefits of energy savings, look for CFLs that are 2700 Kelvin (K) which is the soft white equivalent of light color. If you prefer the appearance of natural daylight, find CFLs at 6500K. Most retailers are carrying a wider assortment of color temperatures these days to ensure you find the light that’s right for you and your home.
• Shape – Personally I don’t get why people still don’t like the cute design of mini-twist CFLs. If you prefer more traditional styles, you’re in luck. Check out your local home center or hardware store for a variety of options to meet the needs of any household application.

Things to Know about CFLs
• Dimmable CFLs – Due to CFL circuitry, the lamps don’t operate well with dimmable fixtures which end up limiting the lamps’ life. Look for CFLs marked specifically as “dimmable.”
• Outdoor Use – We all know water and electricity don’t mix. If you want to save money outdoors too, use a CFL marked specifically for “outdoor use” and place it in an enclosed fixture (no exposed light bulbs!).
• Mercury Content – All CFLs contain a small amount of mercury (just enough to cover the tip of a ball point pen actually). Still, handle CFLs with care. If they happen to break, open your windows and doors to ventilate the area. Be sure to properly clean the space and dispose of mercury appropriately. Click here for clean up details from the EPA.

When CFLs Just Don’t Work with Your Lighting Needs
• Chandeliers / Dimmable Fixtures – If a fixture limits light bulbs to a maximum wattage of 60 watts, that doesn’t mean you need to use a 60 watt lamp. Because I couldn’t find dimmable candelabra based CFLs, I replaced all of my chandelier lights with 15 to 20 watt decorative incandescent light bulbs. Sure, the output isn’t as bright as it was before, but nine lamps still provide plenty of ambient light for dinner time.
• Bath bars with multiple sockets – Who said you need to have light bulbs in every socket? It may be aesthetically pleasing, but not necessary. For example, my hall bath has a three light bath bar which uses 100 watt halogens. You could land a plane in there with the amount of light that’s being produced. The middle socket now uses an 80 watt halogen and we’ve left the other two empty. Waste not, want not.

Old habits die hard. After all, the incandescent light bulb is over 100 years old. However, if we could move from typewriters to laptops, record players to iPods, and hard wire phones to cells, what’s keeping us from killing the (old) lights and using the newest technology available?

Come on! It’s time to take the next step in lighting technology. As the EPA/DOE says, “Change a light, change the world.” It really is that easy.

Haunted by the Ghost of My Fat Self

Exhilaration.
That’s what I feel when I flip through clothing racks and realize I have to look for size 4s and 6s now instead of 12s and 14s.

I buy smaller clothes. I wear smaller clothes. So, why do I still think I look fat?

“Fat” is a highly subjective term. I remember “hating” waif-looking girls who complained they were “huge.” All of us have different thresholds for what weight feels healthy or not. While I’ve dropped about 50 pounds over the past few years, I still feel and see “fat.”

Perhaps it’s because I had expectations of what my body would look like as a size four. Then again, I’ve had two kids. Pregnancy does some weird things to one’s body, some of which will never change no matter how much I diet and exercise.

What’s ironic is that I didn’t feel or see “fat” until I made it a point to get into shape.

Despite this, I feel better, have more energy, and I’m happier than I’ve ever been. So, what does this internal, psychological warfare boil down to?

Expectations and reality.

I won’t do anything stupid or drastic because of my skewed perceptions. I vow to continue pursuing a healthy lifestyle while realizing my limitations and knowing that it’s better to eat and exercise in moderation than forbidding certain foods and overdoing workouts.

For now, I keep telling my “fat” ghost she doesn’t scare me anymore. But do I really believe that? Maybe she’s haunting me because I’m afraid she’ll return.

Welcoming Autumn

Hands down, this is my favorite time of the year. The weather cools (though, as I’m writing this, it’s nearing 90 degrees), the leaves change color, and the scent of the harvest and smoky chimney fires linger in the air.

It’s the autumnal equinox—12 hours of day, 12 hours of night. Only twice a year do we find this balance between light and dark. The first marks the rebirth of nature after winter’s sleep; the second signifies nature’s abundant growth and harvest thanks to the summer sun.

For countless millennia our ancestors celebrated the solstices and their midway points, the vernal and autumnal equinoxes. Evidence of this lies in their ancient structures which align with the sun precisely at the shortest, longest, and equal days of sunlight (check out Stonehenge and Machu Pichu). While modern man’s connection to nature has dissipated in that we rely on our clocks and farmers for time and food, we can still find that long gone connection. It’s as simple as going for a hike, walking along a beach, or sitting in a grassy field.

Personally, I love feeling the warm sun bake my face and the cool energy of the moon’s night time gaze, but I connect best through food. Yes, this is no surprise to those of you who’ve been reading my blog, but today’s celebration goes beyond my joy of eating. Many foods are symbolic (i.e. pumpkins, apples, etc.). Incorporating seasonal flavors into autumn dishes provides a sense of balance between me and nature.

So, to celebrate the autumnal equinox, I’m treating my family to the following (somewhat healthy) dinner: grilled pork with homemade apple-cranberry sauce, corn on the cob, green beans, honey-drizzled cornbread, and pumpkin pie. Each ingredient is not only representative of fall but also of certain correspondences to life’s elements. Listed below are the symbolic associations of the foods and herbs going into our dinner this evening:
• Apples – peace, love, health, wise choices, insight
• Cinnamon - spirituality, success, healing, power, protection, love
• Corn – the land, cycles
• Cranberries – security, protection
• Honey – sweet things in life, happiness
• Salt & Pepper – grounding, cleansing, purification, protection
• Wine – celebration, joy, honoring positive actions

Like the balance between day and night, tonight we'll think about the past six months and determine how our lives and choices succeeded or failed the balancing act among family, work, and self. And to mark the occasion, we’ll enjoy the fruits of Mother Earth and the official kickoff to the new season.

Happy Fall, Y’all!

Mother's Guilt

A healthy dose of mother’s guilt keeps me on my toes. Instead of feeling complacent with the time and activities I spend with my kids, the guilt inspires me to come up with new ways of interacting with them.

Mother’s guilt comes in many shapes and sizes. Am I under feeding the kids? Are they getting too much junk food and TV? Should I encourage them to make more friends? Am I pushing them too hard to be athletes, pick activities, be responsible? Do they have enough kid time? Are they over/under stimulated? He sneezed and coughed twice in row, is it time to see the doctor? Are my habits going to lead them into OCD [e.g. asking if they’ve washed their hands regularly—then again, I have boys. They need to be reminded.]? Do I spend enough time with them?

For me personally, it’s the time issue. My daily balancing act on life’s precipitous tightrope is divided by my full time job, two kids, husband, and writing books. I’m plagued by worries of my children seeking counseling 20 years from now explaining to their psychiatrists, “Well, if only mommy would’ve spent more time with me…”

Managing one child was easy. Every spare minute was focused on his needs. At one week old, I’d prop him in my lap and read to him. By two months old, he’d sit for 20 to 30 minutes smacking the pages as I read, effectively telling me which stories he wanted to hear again by complaining until I turned to the ones he wanted. I took him to Gymboree, kids activities in town, and enrolled him in toddler sports. He knew his ABCs and how to count by the time he started preschool. During holidays, he’d help decorate and bake. And I felt like a failure, because, despite the time we had together, more often than not, he came second to my job.

Then baby number two came along.

Having thought I was a bad parent before, now I was the worst parent ever. Baby number one sacrificed mommy time because of baby number two’s more urgent needs and Mommy’s lack of energy. Baby number two never got the reading time alone or the mommy and baby activities around town. Mommy-time focused on doing errands and chores together.

Baby number two started preschool today. He knows most of his alphabet thanks to his big brother and he can count to ten. Not too shabby, but I wonder what he’d be capable of if I would’ve spent more time with him in his first three years.

When I was a teenager, I was determined to be a successful career woman, wife, and mom. I wanted it all. I got it all. The juggling of priorities and sacrifices of each goal were things I didn’t anticipate. It’s easy to say and believe that family comes first. It should come first. Everything we say and do as parents shapes our children’s futures. What kind of message are we sending if we’re too busy to spend time with them? I don’t want my children pushing my grandchildren away because of their jobs or hobbies.

Still, there’s a fine line between wanting to be the “perfect” parent and losing ourselves in “mommyhood.”

When I became a parent, I gave up everything that defined me at the time. Concerts. Date nights. Trips. Reading. Arts & crafts. Sure I missed these things, but my kids far outweighed the sense of loss.

The years melted into one another and each season seemed to whirl by faster. One day I crashed into the wall of reality. I was “wife,” “mommy,” and “employee.” “Andrea” was gone.

In living for everyone else and striving to do my best for my husband, kids, and job, I stopped doing anything for me. I equated “me” time and money spent on myself with selfishness and ended up being only half the person I wanted to be for everyone. I was no more than the titles.

Once I started writing again last year, I rediscovered my passion. I feel alive. Whether anyone else thinks my book is good or just plain sucks is irrelevant. It gave me the creative outlet I missed for over a decade. Even if the books never see the light of day, I know what I was able to accomplish. I’m a happier person for having completed something I’ve always wanted to do. As a result, I’m a better wife, mom, and employee.

The balancing act continues to teeter. Now that I’ve added a new hobby to my daily routine, I’ve had to carve time from an already insane schedule. I’ve given up sleeping. (I can rest when I’m dead.) I’m trying to include my kids in some of my everyday tasks more often. Cooking dinner, cleaning, or dancing/exercising together might not be great bonding experiences, but they teach responsibility and give us a chance to talk about our day’s events. My new goal is to reinstate Mommy & Me reading every night with each child. I wonder who they’ll pick: Mommy or the TV…

The mother’s guilt keeps pushing me to achieve my goals so my kids can learn from my example: don’t give up on your dreams, you can have it all. You just need to make it happen.

Blood is Thicker than Water

I recently watched “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” and it’s made me a bit homesick. If you’ve seen the movie, then you’ve met my family. Just substitute ‘Hungarian’ for ‘Greek’ and that’s us.

They’re loud, in your business, and argumentative. They’ll feed you until you explode and if you don’t explode, they’ll be offended that you didn’t enjoy whatever meal was prepared. The man is the head of the house, but (unbeknownst to the man) the woman runs the show. They have something to say about everything and they’re “always” right.

Nationalism runs strong. All Hungarians must be proud of their heritage (I endured a horrific Hungarian school on weekends for far longer than I ever wanted). And Hungarians are responsible for great feats of mankind. (George Pataki [NY Governor], Franz Liszt [composer/pianist], Performers—Drew Barrymore, Mariska Hargitay, Jamie Lee Curtis, Tony Curtis, Harry Houdini, Freddie Prinze Jr., Rachel Weisz, Bela Lugosi, Goldie Hawn, Paul Newman, Zsazsa Gabor; Peter Esterhazy [writer]; Bela Karolyi [Gymnastics coach]; Business—Calvin Klein, Estee Lauder; Scientists/Inventors—Szilard & Teller [physicists part of team responsible for development of atomic bond (personally, I’m not too proud of this achievement)], Mihaly Somogyi [chemist who developed 1st child insulin treatment in US], Erno Rubik [sculptor and inventor of the Rubik’s cube]. The list is endless…

Unlike those above, my family isn’t famous (though my dad did design and develop food production/packaging machines for Godiva, Pepperidge Farm, and Palmer—what can I say? I’m proud of his accomplishments). Like many Hungarians, they certainly have their eccentricities and are hot headed (to say the least). Despite it all, one thing is for sure. They have hearts of gold. Arguments, hurt feelings, and “talking loudly” are just part of who we are and what we do. Most importantly, we love each other unconditionally—no matter what. After all, we’re family.

Source: Most Famous Hungarians

Remembering 9/11

Remember When…
• Life was free and fearless.
• Loved ones could kiss you goodbye or greet you at an airport gate.
• Baby formula and jars of food, water bottles, cosmetics, manicure kits, and shampoo were just innocent carry-ons for any flight.
• Your only fear of flying was of flying itself.
• The New York city skyline stood tall, proud, and complete as a symbol for America’s past, present, and future.
• A drive into any major city was filled only with thoughts of business, entertainment, or leisure, instead of wondering whether or not you’d make it out alive that day.
• Crazy ideologies terrorized nameless, faceless people half a world away.
• Capitalism and democracy were just a way of life, not a reason for war.
• We expected the government, CIA, and FBI to keep us safe on US soil at all times, at all costs.
• Freedom of speech and freedom of religion were assumed.

Never Forget…
• Before the dust settled on 9/11, every American—Democrats, Republicans, Independents—stood side-by-side as brothers and sisters united by this day’s tragedies. Regardless of our own political alliances and religious beliefs, we are still one nation fighting to keep the freedoms our forefathers secured for our country.
• The men, women, and children’s lives that were lost the day our eyes opened to evil, maniacal presences lurking just outside Lady Liberty’s open arms.
• The firemen/women, police officers, soldiers and all those who serve today and those who have died in the line of duty to protect us and the freedoms we take for granted every day.

Most importantly…We are proud and lucky to be Americans.
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. To secure these rights governments are instituted among men, deriving their just power from the consent of the governed…” (Declaration of Independence, Thomas Jefferson, 1776)

We’ve Come a Long Way (Well, Some of Us…)

Imagine being lashed for wearing inappropriate clothes. And not just any clothes. The horrible, indecent, and truly repulsive…pants?

Eleven women were recently arrested, tried, and found guilty of breaking a vague Islamic law in Sudan which regulates women’s attire. Ten pleaded guilty to wearing pants and were whipped for their punishment.

One, a former UN reporter, stood her ground and fought the system arguing the law does not clearly prohibit women’s pants. She was still found guilty, but spared 40 lashes. Instead she’s heading to jail, because she refuses to pay the fine of $209 as a matter of principal.

Pants. Pants?

Women have long fought against rules set in place by patriarchal societies. Living in America, it’s easy to take our freedoms for granted and forget the basic rights some women are still fighting for around the world.

I admire Lubna Hussein’s courage to fight the system. I wonder if I’d be brave enough to do the same if confronted with such a fundamental right. Then again, would I be too indoctrinated by a system which encompasses politics, religion, and social regulations to see the injustice? Would I fight for freedom or would I believe these women got what they deserved? I certainly hope I’d stand on the side of freedom and equality. Still, I wonder…

Source: Sudanese woman fined for wearing trousers

Soldier Person: Reflections on WWII from Behind Enemy Lines

Today marks the 70th anniversary of the start of World War II when Germany attacked Poland at Westerplatte. To this day, WWII marks a tragic era for the entire world. Considering the losses faced by nations and families, there were no winners.

(Before I go any further, I want to state emphatically that Hitler was a madman and his ideology and plans have no place in our world. He needed to be stopped and, thankfully, the allies were able to bring about the war’s end. And to all the service men and women who’ve protected our freedoms over the centuries…Thank You!)

Studying World War II through the eyes of American history books was an experience I’ll never forget. We learned about the triumphant allies and evil enemies. Classmates spoke proudly of their grandparents, aunts and uncles who served the allied forces honorably. Classes would recount America’s heroic efforts to avenge attacks and stop the war to end all wars.

But history books are just printed facts on a page. They capture no feelings. They say only what the writer wants you to know when there’s so much more to be said. No matter which side they’re on, nations and soldiers are people too; they're not all mindless, soulless brutes.

Concentrating on hiding my guilt-ridden secret, I hoped no one would ask about my family’s past. While I was born in America to immigrant parents who are proud Americans, I couldn’t turn my back on my family’s history. You see, there’s more to the good guys versus bad guys WWII story. It’s not a clear cut case of black and white. My ancestors were inextricably caught in the many shades of grey somewhere in between.

70 years ago today marked the beginning of a series of events that destroyed both sides of my family.

Hungary in 1939 was a tumultuous place. Over the prior thousand years, the country had grown extensively both politically and culturally and subsequently been conquered by countless invaders. With Hitler positioned to the northwest and the ever present Russian threat to the northeast, Hungary was literally caught between a rock and a hard place. When Hitler gave them an ultimatum (join us or we destroy you), the Hungarian politicians were left with little choice. They wanted to salvage whatever they could of their country and its inhabitants. As a member of the “enemy” forces, the people and soldiers were at the mercy of Hitler’s whims.

With the ever-changing eastern borders, my grandmother's father (on my mom's side) was forced into serving with the Romanian army. It didn’t matter that he had four young children and a very young wife who he was abandoning for the war effort. Hitler needed bodies. The men were drafted. They went. The alternative for those who refused: imprisonment, torture, and, possibly, death. Oh, did I mention, the punishment extended to their family members as well. So, to protect his wife and children, he served unwillingly for a cause with which he vehemently disagreed. Although he eventually returned home, the horrors his children faced without his presence and protection shaped their futures.

Although he was proud to be a Hungarian soldier, my mom's dad and his brothers didn’t agree with Hitler’s agenda or Hungary’s position in the matter either. Nonetheless, as active soldiers, all of the brothers were shipped to the eastern front. Only two returned.

Though the circumstances varied across the country and from family to family, my dad’s family fared far worse. My grandmother was one of three sons and three daughters from an educated, middle class family in Vasvar. She gave up her comfortable life to marry my grandfather who worked as a railroad officer across the country. (He survived the front lines in the army at only 17 during the first World War.) Still, they lived a comfortable middle-class existence and had five children before WWII. When the war hit, my uncles, who were already soldiers or of serving age, were forced to fight against the allies. Despite their stance against the war, they had no choice but to do as they were commanded.

Decades after the war ended, the blood of their friends could not be washed from their hands. Memories of herding their childhood playmates, classmates, their families, and coworkers onto railcars to be shipped to death camps haunted my uncles and grandfather until the day they died.

After the war ended and Hungary’s borders were remapped yet again, my dad’s family was given 24 hours to move back to the country otherwise they would be considered Yugoslavian citizens. So deep was their tie to their homeland, that they packed what they could carry and crossed the borders with their children. The comforts they once enjoyed became faded memories. Under communist rule, my grandparents died impoverished. Their children struggled for every crust of bread and every accomplishment; some made it, some did not.

It’s easy to say the honorable thing for both families would’ve been to stand up for what they believed and fight against the oppressive regimes leading them into unpardonable actions. Having lived a fairly easy life in a country that lets me speak my mind, I can’t even begin to imagine the challenges my ancestors faced. Their choices amounted to picking between the lesser of evils. Fight with a regime at the expense of countless innocents or oppose the regime and forfeit both your life and that of your families. In a time when the idea of the “greater good” was muddled with conflicting ideologies, they protected what was within their very limited power. They chose their families.

Choosing the honorable path is never easy and many have lost their lives in the process. In this one case, I’m selfishly glad my families did what they had to in order to survive. If they didn’t, I wouldn’t have been given the greatest gift ever.

Life.

Life: A Momentary Blip in Time

A breath. A kiss. A taste. A tear. Feeling one minute, void the next.

I read a phenomenal (and highly disturbing) blog post today which poignantly captured the delicate balance between life and death.

Every day that we don’t think about mundane things like breathing, loving, and just being, we take life for granted. You can be going about your daily routine, running to the grocery store, taking the kids to soccer practice, when without any warning your time may be up.

Throughout my life I’ve always worried about death—never so much about what waits on the other side, but losing someone we love here. When I became a parent, the fear multiplied a hundred fold. I agonize over keeping my kids safe from themselves and from others. I worry about them when I drop them off at school or watch them play a sport. I hope for their sake that my time won’t come until they’re adults and able to live without me. Though it’s not a sadistic or oppressing part of my daily thoughts, death is ever-present thanks to experiences like my car accident which could’ve been a lot worse and a little girl in our neighborhood who was struck and killed by a drunk driver as she crossed the street a few months ago.

After rereading my manuscript over the weekend, death is preying heavily on my mind. Though “Eternity is not Enough” touches on many topics, the unavoidable idea of death shapes the entire series and even grabs the reader in the preface.

The vampire storyline pushes the basis for the plot into paranormal fiction; however, the theme of losing those you love is something which everyone can understand. Ultimately, the lesson learned (in both my fictional and real worlds) is that we’re all at the mercy of fate and, one way or another, life goes on.

Life is precious. Life is fleeting. Make every moment count.

Diet Secret #2 - Everything in Moderation

That’s what my mom used to say. It rings truer now than ever before. Why? Because dieting stinks. Perhaps if I would’ve lived according to this philosophy, I wouldn’t find myself in this current predicament.

I never had to worry about what I ate. With a fairly high metabolism and involvement in cheerleading and ballet, I got plenty of exercise as a child and teenager. Of course, that all changed after I had kids.

It’s been nearly a year since I began dieting seriously for the first time in my life. Diets and exercise routines never lasted before; I inevitably gained back the weight. The toughest part of this past year was adjusting my food intake.

As I’ve said before, I love food. I’d nearly lick my plate clean because as my dad says, “Eat while it’s fresh.” A great sentiment, but unhealthy.

Learning to listen to the inner voice which whispers, “I’m full,” has been a matter of rewiring my brain. I don’t need a second helping of pasta. Though it tastes like heaven, I don’t need a huge slice of chocolate cake. Hell, I don’t need to even fill my dinner plate the first time around.

Everything in moderation—had I actually learned this years ago, it wouldn’t be such a tough adjustment now. The good thing is that it’s never too late to learn this lesson (or any lesson for that matter).

The first three months of the diet were the hardest especially considering they straddled Halloween (candy!), Thanksgiving (turkey, pie…Mmmm), and Christmas/New Years (an endless abundance of food, cookies, pastries, and sparkling wine). This baptism by fire of sorts forced me to determine what I needed to eat, not wanted to eat.

‘Eat to live, not live to eat’ is my motto now. I’ve managed to minimize relapses by giving into my sweet tooth everyday. I avoid packing on pounds because I make healthier choices throughout the day and I’ve replaced after-dinner treats with fat free/low fat brownies, yogurt with granola, fat free/low fat ice cream, and berries with a sprinkle of sugar or dollop of fat free whipped cream. Sure it would be ideal to eliminate the unnecessary sweets all together, but nothing would break my diet faster than being forbidden from them.

I take each day one at a time. The struggle with eating wisely has lessened over the months, but sometimes nothing satiates the cravings more than giving into them (loaded nachos, Mmmm). At least now I can stop from eating a whole plateful. Five chips are more than enough. After all, too much of a good thing isn’t good at all.