Mannheim Steamroller’s Silent Night (Music and Video) A Beautiful Gift

Here is a video of a beautiful piece of music that everyone should listen to.  It is Mannheim Steamroller’s Silent Night.  If you haven’t heard this by now, let me warn you, you will be moved.  It is like the music just evokes the whole feeling of what Christmas is really all about.  It is haunting and it  just wells up inside you.

I first heard this back in the 80’s when the group was just starting to be heard on the radio around Christmastime.  My brother had the Christmas cd, made a cassette tape copy for me, and I  have played it ever since that Christmas every year.  I just recently bought the cd so I could have a better copy, and I absolutely love it.

Another reason this is so beautiful to me is that I remember playing this as I was making wreaths for gifts down in my basement one year.  It was late at night, I was by myself,  and this angelic music started playing. Even though I had heard it many times before, it had a different meaning for me at that very moment.

My mother had passed away that March and I was depressed to say the least, and this music just reminded me of heaven.  The violin here sounds like it is crying and it is so moving throughout, especially at the very end with the sounds of the wind and the baby piano.  It was as if I was a child all over again and I was missing my mommy.  I cried like a baby.  Every time I hear this, I feel that all over again. But it is so beautiful, and the music just fades away into happy soft, sleigh bells that bring back hope.  That’s when I picture my mother happy in heaven and I’m suddenly comforted.

That’s what this music means to me.  But please listen and see what it brings back in memories for you. It is a little slow in the beginning, but it’s perfect because it sets the whole mood.  The violin starts around 2:00.  I hope you enjoy this beautiful gift. 🙂


The Forgotten Ones (Another Reblog)

Here is another popular reblog.  I feel it is appropriate right now because of Halloween approaching and the whole cemetery thing.  I hope you enjoy this.  It really makes you think.

The Forgotten Ones In Autumn

The Forgotten Ones

The view from my second – story  bedroom window is a humbling one.  It reminds me how precious life is everyday.  The view is of a simple cemetery, not quite historical, but dated, none-the-less.

I don’t mind the cemetery at all.  Our house is separated from the cemetery by a stockade fence, a steep slope and railroad tracks that sit down below. These tracks are not for an Amtrak, but for an occasional slow-moving train transferring goods.  I  take comfort in the fact that know no one will ever build over there, and as neighbors to us,  they never make a fuss.  The geese fly low overhead and it is very peaceful.

The  view to me is comforting, almost like an old friend, now.  The same stones greet me every morning when I open up my blinds.  Sometimes the view can look rather eerie when there is a low fog rolling in, and then sometimes, it can look overwhelmingly beautiful, like just after a snowstorm.

There are times I have been depressed and sat on my bed feeling hopeless about a situation, and then through teary eyes, I’ll glance over at the solemn view,  and my mind starts reeling.  Someday that will be me, nothing more than a name on a stone.  Who will remember me?  The things I liked, the friends I knew. The things I’ve done?  Will it all have mattered?  Did I make a difference?  An impression?  Then suddenly,  my current problem doesn’t seem so important after all.  That could be me over there.

Those stones sit there everyday and I see no one.  Not one visitor.  Maybe on a very, rare occasion, I’ll see a lone person sitting on a stone having lunch like they are sitting with an old friend, or a car will sit there and someone may get out and wander.  I mostly see joggers and walkers, and the occasional person walking their dog, only to have it relieve itself on a stone.  Now. that’s a memory I wish not to have when I am gone.

The church in the distance rings out the time at 9:00, 12:00 and 6:00, and I think to myself,  how odd that is , especially for those in the cemetery who don’t care about the time anymore. And the stones sit there day after day, alone in the rain…in the snow…surrounded in leaves…and then sometimes, the miniature flags come out, like for Memorial Day. It looks slightly alive for awhile.

I wonder when the cemetery was first new, how many family members must have come to visit here.  Year after year, with flowers and small gifts.  I can picture groups of families, probably crying and hanging on to each other. Ill bet it was very busy for a long time… and then it just slowly got forgotten. People got older and passed on, moved away or something.  The visiting stops and the stones just sit there and look like they are waiting. Waiting for someone to  just remember them. The people there.  They were here once, talking and laughing.  They had families and memories and pasts.  How sad.  I don’t want this to be me someday, but I guess it will be inevitable.

So, one day, I’ve promised to buy a rose or two.  I’ll walk through the plots and read the names and imagine the lives of the ones that lie there. I’ll place  a rose on top of a stone, stand back and smile… and maybe, I will even say a prayer.

Then, I will say

to myself, “No, you are not forgotten…not today”.

The Forgotten Ones In Winter

Starry, Starry Night / Vincent Van Gogh Video (via Cherylmcnulty’s Blog)

Reblogging this post. I had forgotten this one until the other day. Nice memories of this song and I love the artist, or shold I say “artists”, Don McLean and Vincent Van Gogh.:) Enjoy…again.

I went searching for the perfect video to this beautiful song which I loved when I first heard it in the 70's.  Being an artist, I really appreciated the lyrics and what  Don McLean was trying to say about Vincent Van Gogh.  So much emotion, that it makes me wish I knew more about these artists from that era.  So much passion,  you just can  feel  it when you look at their work.  This was their life! My dad even loved this song, and I always thou … Read More

via Cherylmcnulty's Blog

Today Was A Tough One

Today, it was exactly a week ago that my pup, Maxi passed away.  I was home by myself , which is a rarity.  I had time to think and reminisce and…clean up.  To put away the little things, the last remembrances of him. It was not easy.

First,  I took his box of goodies from under the  counter (assorted half-chewed bones, balls, his leash and muzzle) and cleaned it out.  He used to paw at this box when he wanted to entertain himself or want a bone of some sort, even until about the last day, he  still wanted a bone from that box!  I threw out all the disgusting bones and kept the last things I remember him playing with.  The bone he had half hanging out of his mouth like a cigarette:)…always makes me smile. I kept that.  The brushes he loved the girls brushing him with when he had a skin condition that kept him scratching constantly-I kept those too.

Then there was his dog dish…that was tough.  I cleaned it out one last time and dusted it off, filled the bowl on one side with water to see it one last time (silly!), and since it was too big to put in his box, I figured I would  just bag it all together.  I cannot throw out the dish.

Then – the  side yard.  The fenced off section for him to “go” in.  I raked it all clean, and pulled out every weed and overgrown blade of grass and after that, I lay down grass seed…everywhere.  He had killed every living blade of grass in that area (except for the weeds, of course. they live through everything) Even though I felt like this was the last step, I had  thought how neat it would be to see green grass growing there again.

That was that.  It was all done.

I just have the crate in the basement that he loved and slept in every night.   When I opened it’s door every morning,  he would be quivering with excitement to just eat,  and I would hold the door and  say, “Ready, set,…go!”  He’d scamper so fast up those basement steps just to get his breakfast that was waiting for him.

Also, I had ordered a stone last night online with a pawprint, his name, and dates, and I will place it on the side yard where he frequented, only now in the Spring, instead of dead branches and brown blades, it will have flowers and be  “pea”  green!!!  And I will think of him.

I will put together a book about how he first came to us, a picture book with his photos, and I will have a photo on our table sitting among the kids portraits from school, and he will have his stone in the garden.

Then…I think maybe, then…I can start leaving this all behind me and just go on.  He was a big part of our lives and grew up with the kids, he was a big part of their childhood.  He will always be remembered.

Maxi walking away with hawaiian flowers on his neck and chew toy

The gentleman


Goodbye Max

Max being cute

Max with my daughter Caitlin

Ready for Fall


Loved to be held

Waiting...again. Is it for me?

This is probably the hardest post I will ever write.  My dog Max, our min- pin of 11 years, had to be put down Wednesday from complications from diabetes.  He was a tough guy, and looked like he had 9 lives, always coming back from a set back.  He was tired.

We knew it was time and he let us hug him endlessly before he was put down.  That part was just so hard. I can’t get it out of my mind.  He just lay there on the vet table with his head between his paws as if to say, “I’m ready”…but we weren’t.

Enough of that.  He was a great, smart dog and if I were ever to get another, it would be another min-pin, most definitely.  He was part clown, I’m sure.  They told us when we got him he would not be a lap dog…wrong!  He loved being held. He had energy I would kill for!  And as far as a watch dog…the best!  We will never forget him.  He was my first pet that I ever picked out, and I trained him myself.  He was easy at that too!

Anyway, the part that hits me the most, now, is the quiet.   I can’t get used to it.  I keep expecting him to pounce on me while I lay sleeping on the couch, to tell me to take him out and put him into the basement where his bed was. The quiet is what is killing me the most.  When the postman comes, and the Chem Lawn guy comes, and we come home from jobs and school…the quiet gets you!

His dish is still sitting on the floor, and something is holding me back from putting it away. Am I crazy!  I try telling myself that he’s better off and without pain and in a better place, but I want him with me!  I will try to be less selfish, and I have to go on, but Max..we love you always!  You were the best and you won’t be forgotten, ever.  Until we meet again…<3

Here is a video for “Rainbow Bridge”

Please watch.. and have a tissue ready.:(

The video was disabled…you have to click again on where it says “watch it on you tube”.

Time In A Bottle/Jim Croce Music Video

I found this video and this song, which I love.    i just had to share it. It says so much.

I have been feeling a little down lately, and yes, it has to do with time. I just started this new job and it’s been tough trying to settle in with trying to figure out my schedule and fit everything else in as well. I will get there.  I can’t let my dream go of being an artist, that would kill me. I hope to have a post titled “The Dream” which I am writing, up soon.  It’s almost like a goodbye to the dream I’ve been working on for so long.  But I could never really say goodbye:(.

Anyway,I looked this song up and found this video of Jim Croce with his son and wife, and it’s so sad  that he died so young and left them behind.  He was a great artist.  Enjoy…and really listen to the words.

Mother’s Day 1993

A Mother’s Heart

This is from a journal entry that I wrote after my mother passed away in March of 1993.  As I look back, it seems I did alot of writing to deal with the pain I had been feeling at that time.  It was very therapeutic.  This was the first Mother’s Day after she had passed away and it was hard not going to see her at her house, but instead I had to take a trip to the cemetery.  This is how I remember this day…

Mother’s Day 1993

This morning John,Patrick (2),Caitlin(7 mos) and I, decided we’d visit the cemetery where you live now.  We bought pretty mums for you, yellow like the sun. They were bright and reminded me of you.

It was strange, not picking out a card for you.  I wanted to so badly.  It was so sad. I thought of you often today.  Memories of your smile and your voice went through my mind.

We packed the kids in the van and started off.

I felt strange and I didn’t know what to expect…to see your name on a marker today, instead of your smiling face.  This was going to be very difficult for me,  and I knew it.

On the way, we passed by the exit we would have taken to go to your house.  I would have much preferred the house, but we just sped on.

After about 25 minutes, we pulled into the cemetery grounds.  Although the ride was quiet, it was also nice as it was a beautiful, sunny day.

We went off to the left and went up a small hill…and there it was…your new home.  It was open and trees were set back behind you.  There was no grass as it was a  brand new plot, with the bare earth freshly smoothed over.  John got out to look among the many markers on the just-cleared earth.

We left the kids in the car at first, and I walked alone to your marker…right in the middle of the clearing, next to a woman named “MacNamara”.  I joked to John that  this woman was Irish, also, and that you were probably talking her head off!

It was so beautiful and peaceful with the sun beating down.  The warm breeze and birds singing.  It was so nice, and I swear I felt your presence there.  It was also strange to see  the first new spikes of grass shooting up amongst the dry dirt.  It was actually too hard to imagine it all grassy.  Someday, it will be.

John brought Patrick out of the car while I spoke  to you privately.  Patrick  quickly came running over and said, “Hi Gramma!  I love you!”  I’m sure you smiled.  Then after Patrick walked off with John, something told me to get Caitlin..  I knew you would’ve liked to have seen her. I brought her over and I could almost imagine you saying,”Wow, how big she’s gotten!”

She looks so much like you,  Ma.  It gives me hope and something to go on.

John tied the pretty mums to your marker.  It looked so pretty amongst all those bare markers. It looked as if you had life now.  The only sunny spot on the hill…my mom!

I said what I had to and said we’d be back. “Say hello to everyone up there for me. Guide me in all I do.  I love  you!”

Then we packed everyone up and slowly left for home.  It was an extremely quiet trip back to say the least, but I felt good inside that I had done what I did. It was a Mother’s Day I will remember forever.

I miss you.

I love you.

Happy Mother’s Day!<3

My mom in healthier, happier days with her usual welcoming smile.