As you might know if you read my last post: I could write a book or several books about my mother and her background. The funny part is that she loved me so fiercely that I often feel her presence with me. For example: we shouldn’t have a pug, yet we do. The pug followed me in a decade ago from the mailbox to our home. We traced the owner and he handed the papers over to us. My husband had always wanted a pug. I was ambivalent until I realized how loyal he is: our pug. What are the odds?

When I have had a particularly challenging position, something has always come through for the best for me. I remember one year before my dad left the City of New York, he had a boss who was very ugly to him. He told my mom about it and something horrible happened to that boss. There was no way anyone was responsible as it was fate or karma but my father used to muse that my mother’s thoughts were deep. So, I feel she is looking out for me.

I am not sure all would believe her stories of growing up but I have no doubts they were true. She was also in Manhattan at an exciting time and was part of NBC Studio, “Seventeen Magazine.” I think those were great times to be living in the city. I believe things have changed and changed, not for the best. All of my family has left the City of New York, but often I read of the firefighters, policeman and whenever I see an Irish name, I root for them, thinking of my grandfather.

He didn’t pass away penniless. He had a small estate in East Hampton. Most likely his greatest estate was his stories of Manhattan and working. Like I said, the stories were strange but I have no reason to doubt them. I can only believe in karma and the fact that my mom taught me how to be streetwise in a strange way. When we visited the City and stayed in my grandmother’s apartment, she would point out people and situations that were good and not so good. In a way, I realized years later she taught me to trust my instincts and watch out for myself and for those around me.

I believe my father wanted to get away from my mom’s family as they were a strong influence and my dad did not always see things the same way. He wanted the best for us, so he took myself and my brothers to the Borscht Belt: the Catskills. Years later, I would try to trace my father’s family finding the phone number of a relative who was a retired detective living still in New York City. He asked me a million questions of how I had his phone number. I think my mom’s family and my father’s family were very different but that is another story. And one, I remember. My mother’s greatest lesson to me was to have grace. We can’t always control the situations we find ourselves in but we can try with grace to move forward. And sometimes, karma happens to those who wrong us because the world can be a very small place.

And that is why I like to write fiction! Memories and stories are never lost. Thanks for listening.