Christmas cards, a tradition that is slowly fading away. I've kept all those ever sent to me. It's difficult to throw away a holy card. Some are not holy but funny, with reindeer and Santa or snowy scenes. They come from different countries and from family and friends. I've noticed that I'm set and don't need to buy new boxed sets for a while. After the holidays, I used to scour the shelves for great deals and bought several different types. Now comes that time where I need to physically make myself sit down with the address book and my yearly list that I've kept on Word. It changes every year. I tend to write less on each card rather than more. We used to get updates from family. A sheet of news at times with pictures since we lived far from one another. Now with the internet, we're in touch more often.
That's my question this year. Why have we stopped sending cards? Are they too time-consuming? Have we no time? What has taken up our time? I remember how we placed each card that came by mail on the mantel. We were warmed by the greeting and knew that good wishes went both ways. Is a wish on Facebook the same? I don't think so. Far from it. A pretty picture, a few words and suddenly all have been covered.
And what about stamps? Holiday stamps. Long lines at the post office. How many of us still go to the post office in town? Bills are paid online or on an app. We rarely send cards to anyone. has it become such a chore? Is there a way we can bring it back? the lovely lettering, the hot wax stamp to seal it, the stationary, who remembers getting letters and cards this way. Imagine using a nib and dipping it into ink and writing down your thoughts to another by candlelight. Okay, maybe I've stepped too far back. But let's not lose this. A card can be a special gift. We can learn to be simple and make cookies as a gift for family or a scarf. I was watching a show from Alaska where a family made each other gifts for the holidays. Warm gloves from beaver fur and moose leather. Imagine that. Let's get back to the basics. Send cards for New Year's, for Valentines...start a movement!! It all starts with you.
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
Christmas Tree and Decorations Over the Years
Since my birthday falls 10 days before Christmas Day, I've always had an affinity for the month of December culminating with New Years Eve/Day that ushers in a new beginning. It's a time of recollection, family, traditions, customs and food. Every Christmas is different beginning with my earliest memories that were filmed by my father. I'm sitting under a large real tree that's towering over me in my Grandmother's porch. The porch is not heated but it is enclosed. We lived with my grandmother for 6 years before moving to our house a few blocks away. The tree is decorated and I'm wearing mittens. I reach to touch the ornaments and make them sway. The long rope of tinsel is also fascinating. My cheeks are as red as my snowsuit. My father also shot footage of me walking through the snow in the backyard in my red snowsuit and white boots. There's also a longer movie starring my Mom, my brother and me in the park after a snowstorm. We're taking turns falling over as my Mom scrambles to keep us upright. It always makes me laugh as I twirl and fall on purpose. I'm older but we clearly enjoyed the snow and Christmas.
I remember celebrating and believing in St. Nicholas and not Santa. I remember getting a sled that was propped up in the livingroom. When we were a little older, we'd go to visit St. Nicholas who used to arrive with his angels at St. John's. Somehow we always got exactly what we wished for. We'd go up on stage as He called our name. It was a magical and fun time. And then I remember several of my early birthdays as they were filmed by my father. If were were wearing long sleeves, it was my birthday and when we were tan it was my brother's. The cake in front of us was baked by Grandmother and we usually sat together and blew out the candles, hugged and kissed and ate our pieces of cake. Some of the presents caught on film, we also played with immediately. I put Baby Crawl Along in the rocking chair. The Fisher Price Farm animals were passed around and the barn made a mooing sound when the doors were opened. Another present that brought tears to my eyes as I didn't know how it worked was the doll Velvet. She was a blonde wearing a purple dress. Her hair length could be altered with the knob on her lower back. You'd turn it and it got short or long. Mom had to show me how to do this and I was frustrated.
Over the years we always had a real tree. They were sold in town at the Dairy Queen parking lot. I remember going to buy light one time in either Channel or Rickel's on Rt.22 in Union with my father and they were almost sold out. We never gave gifts to each other for Christmas under the tree. Christmas was a holy holiday. Mom prepared the meatless meal for dinner on Christmas Eve. This was in keeping with traditional Ukrainian Christmas. There were 12 different foods that were served. Usually we almost had 12. When we got older my father insisted on kutya. Mom fried the fish, there were pierogies, borscht along with dough mushroom filled "ears" floating in it. Grandma fried the donuts with a cherry inside each one called pampushky at home and they were nice and warm.
Even when we moved away, we came home for Christmas Eve or Day. We'd help with the tree and the meal. There were no pampushky after Grandma passed but there were cookies, the kind she used to make mostly circles, diamonds, moons and some had holes on top, two cookies tall with marmalade in the middle. And her apple crumb pie or apricot marmalade pie. She was always the expert cook and her Ukrainian dishes were delicious. My mother and I did learn how to make several recipes. I've made studenetz for Christmas day and remember Mom keeping it and the borscht on the porch as the fridge was usually full. The smell of the holidays was always intoxicating. The tree, the baked goods. So inviting and cozy.
Christmas changed after my parents passed. I spend Christmas Day with Johnny's family. We gather together at his sister's house for ham. Christmas Eve is usually spent up the street with just us and his parents and aunt. We exchange presents and watch a movie and have Chinese food. This is far from the traditions I was part of. His parents and sister don't go to church. I remember Christmas Eve Mass at St. John's...it was also called Midnight Mass. We'd line up as a family or sometimes my father and I would be the lone wolves who would venture out so late. Christmas carols would be sung by the choir. There was also a Christmas Concert presented by the school children a week before. It would be frigid and the church would be decorated with Christmas trees, poinsettia's and the creche...the stable where Jesus was born in the town of Bethlehem.
I was fortunate to visit Bethlehem during a trip I signed up for in high school in London. We traveled to Israel and Egypt during the holidays. Bethlehem for Christmas and Cairo for New Year's in 1982. A trip that remains etched in my mind. The landscape and routes taken were unbelievable. We walked where Jesus did in Jerusalem, among the hills of olive trees, the small fishing villages and the town of Bethlehem. We scaled the steps up to Masada and rode on camels near the pyramids of Giza. Truly magical. A Christmas I spent away from family as they celebrated in London.
Now we've downsized. The tree is small but the creche remains large. It was made by John Smishko from Hillside who lived next door to my grandmother. The figurines are from the 50's as well but I've added several different versions that stand amid the large wooden stable. It's truly a lovely gesture that he bestowed for our family. I remember being in his house where I noticed the painting of the Last Supper on his wall. He was a religious man and later a widower as well. They lived in harmony.
That's what Christmas means for me...spreading joy and love and beauty as Jesus did to those that will accept it from us. Every day ought to be lived that way and Christmas is a reminder to carry us through the year. To remain strong in our faith and behold the child that God gave to lead us to life ever after in heaven. No matter where you are, who you're with, please celebrate Christmas within your heart. It's a candle that burns in my heart through all these years and will continue until I can once again share it with family again in heaven. Bless you.
I remember celebrating and believing in St. Nicholas and not Santa. I remember getting a sled that was propped up in the livingroom. When we were a little older, we'd go to visit St. Nicholas who used to arrive with his angels at St. John's. Somehow we always got exactly what we wished for. We'd go up on stage as He called our name. It was a magical and fun time. And then I remember several of my early birthdays as they were filmed by my father. If were were wearing long sleeves, it was my birthday and when we were tan it was my brother's. The cake in front of us was baked by Grandmother and we usually sat together and blew out the candles, hugged and kissed and ate our pieces of cake. Some of the presents caught on film, we also played with immediately. I put Baby Crawl Along in the rocking chair. The Fisher Price Farm animals were passed around and the barn made a mooing sound when the doors were opened. Another present that brought tears to my eyes as I didn't know how it worked was the doll Velvet. She was a blonde wearing a purple dress. Her hair length could be altered with the knob on her lower back. You'd turn it and it got short or long. Mom had to show me how to do this and I was frustrated.
Over the years we always had a real tree. They were sold in town at the Dairy Queen parking lot. I remember going to buy light one time in either Channel or Rickel's on Rt.22 in Union with my father and they were almost sold out. We never gave gifts to each other for Christmas under the tree. Christmas was a holy holiday. Mom prepared the meatless meal for dinner on Christmas Eve. This was in keeping with traditional Ukrainian Christmas. There were 12 different foods that were served. Usually we almost had 12. When we got older my father insisted on kutya. Mom fried the fish, there were pierogies, borscht along with dough mushroom filled "ears" floating in it. Grandma fried the donuts with a cherry inside each one called pampushky at home and they were nice and warm.
Even when we moved away, we came home for Christmas Eve or Day. We'd help with the tree and the meal. There were no pampushky after Grandma passed but there were cookies, the kind she used to make mostly circles, diamonds, moons and some had holes on top, two cookies tall with marmalade in the middle. And her apple crumb pie or apricot marmalade pie. She was always the expert cook and her Ukrainian dishes were delicious. My mother and I did learn how to make several recipes. I've made studenetz for Christmas day and remember Mom keeping it and the borscht on the porch as the fridge was usually full. The smell of the holidays was always intoxicating. The tree, the baked goods. So inviting and cozy.
Christmas changed after my parents passed. I spend Christmas Day with Johnny's family. We gather together at his sister's house for ham. Christmas Eve is usually spent up the street with just us and his parents and aunt. We exchange presents and watch a movie and have Chinese food. This is far from the traditions I was part of. His parents and sister don't go to church. I remember Christmas Eve Mass at St. John's...it was also called Midnight Mass. We'd line up as a family or sometimes my father and I would be the lone wolves who would venture out so late. Christmas carols would be sung by the choir. There was also a Christmas Concert presented by the school children a week before. It would be frigid and the church would be decorated with Christmas trees, poinsettia's and the creche...the stable where Jesus was born in the town of Bethlehem.
I was fortunate to visit Bethlehem during a trip I signed up for in high school in London. We traveled to Israel and Egypt during the holidays. Bethlehem for Christmas and Cairo for New Year's in 1982. A trip that remains etched in my mind. The landscape and routes taken were unbelievable. We walked where Jesus did in Jerusalem, among the hills of olive trees, the small fishing villages and the town of Bethlehem. We scaled the steps up to Masada and rode on camels near the pyramids of Giza. Truly magical. A Christmas I spent away from family as they celebrated in London.
Now we've downsized. The tree is small but the creche remains large. It was made by John Smishko from Hillside who lived next door to my grandmother. The figurines are from the 50's as well but I've added several different versions that stand amid the large wooden stable. It's truly a lovely gesture that he bestowed for our family. I remember being in his house where I noticed the painting of the Last Supper on his wall. He was a religious man and later a widower as well. They lived in harmony.
That's what Christmas means for me...spreading joy and love and beauty as Jesus did to those that will accept it from us. Every day ought to be lived that way and Christmas is a reminder to carry us through the year. To remain strong in our faith and behold the child that God gave to lead us to life ever after in heaven. No matter where you are, who you're with, please celebrate Christmas within your heart. It's a candle that burns in my heart through all these years and will continue until I can once again share it with family again in heaven. Bless you.
Friday, December 1, 2017
Removing My Lipoma
First you need to know what is a lipoma. It's a growing blob of fat cells in the body. It can occur anywhere in the body at any time in life. Some become visible as a bump that you notice when examining your body. It's a bump that grows under the skin. When I say grows, I mean GROWS. My lipoma, when removed measured 6 inches in diameter, the size of a donut. When I finally met with the surgeon who had laproscopically removed my gall bladder to remove my lipoma, he was amazed by the size. He took a picture and sent it to me after he removed it.
I first noticed it, my lipoma, several years ago. It showed up on mammograms as something protruding from the chest wall. No one took any interest in it. Then I felt it protrude above my right breast when I flexed a certain muscle. The protrusion became larger and larger and whenever I had massages in the area I would tell them about the lipoma. I knew what a lipoma was by now and I knew it was getting larger. I knew that it needed to be removed. I was hesitating because it wasn't cancerous. Most aren't, just a glob of fat. Another surgery was imminent. Yet, it wasn't covered as a necessary surgery. Unlike my lumpectomy or gall bladder removal, this surgery was not considered necessary. Argh.
On May 1, 2017, my surgeon marked a purple X as I lay in the hospital talking to the anesthesiologist. I came out of surgery after 2 hours, trembling but glad that the ordeal was over and I was fine. Heavily bandaged but fine. Arrived home with 12 Percosets, the least amount needed. I would not see my lipoma until I went to the surgeon to check my stitches. It was difficult to remove the dressing. After several attempts and sitting back on the bed when I felt whoozy, I was finally able to see the purple X. That meant the scar was somewhere else. It was long and lower. The lipoma was in-between the chest wall and the ribs. They managed to push/pull it out through that incision on the side of my right breast. Wow. Surgeons are amazing and skilled.
I healed well. No infections and was able to move my arm even after surgery. I made sure not to lift weights at the gym for a fews weeks but then I was back to normal. And my bras fit better! It felt good to lose that donut. I showed the picture of it to friends who could handle seeing it. It's amazing what can be growing in your body. When getting tests before surgery, I joked with the ultrasound tech whether it had a heartbeat, was it a boy or girl. I was in good spirits and glad it was removed before it grew any larger. I'm not in the running for growing the largest one. They say it can grow back or grow somewhere else. Or that could be it. My one and only. You never know what life will be like but you. FYI, they did test the cells and it was non-cancerous, benign. Whew. Bit that bullet. No chemo and radiation after this one. Yippee!!
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