tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41508702024-03-12T19:36:34.355-07:00Remembering MomShared memories of our family and
friends of Mom.AquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.comBlogger97125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-29606641886653923262021-07-02T18:06:00.001-07:002021-07-02T18:11:16.047-07:00Cleaned Up Pic of Mom In Her 20's<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglib9UcOaWYeXZUx95yUo_M_c-NmUiiVFr9xZnmj4eZRVGvxgT8btgv7ZHBhhLcICt8LDemcLmQArxrVvWjtcqWGgsN4EOv9x8-U0GRWjPKD8BhwWQOHfdwQkMMJVz9TZSHI208w/s851/Mom-1960s-2-C.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="851" data-original-width="851" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglib9UcOaWYeXZUx95yUo_M_c-NmUiiVFr9xZnmj4eZRVGvxgT8btgv7ZHBhhLcICt8LDemcLmQArxrVvWjtcqWGgsN4EOv9x8-U0GRWjPKD8BhwWQOHfdwQkMMJVz9TZSHI208w/w640-h640/Mom-1960s-2-C.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> This pic of Mom (Judy) would've been taken around 1967 or 1968 I believe.<p></p><p style="text-align: center;">Mom was going through cosmetology school at the time, and would be in that field for 15 years after graduation.</p><p style="text-align: center;">My sister Lori, brother Jeff, and I all grew up in and around "beauty salons," as they were called at the time.</p>AquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0Beloit, WI 53511, USA42.5276281 -89.075249914.217394263821156 -124.2314999 70.837861936178854 -53.9189999tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-22216131745071053602019-11-23T20:08:00.000-08:002019-11-23T20:08:01.225-08:00Happy Birthday Mom!It's been nearly 17 years since Mom left the planet. Here are a few photos of her in her younger days. I kind of like the celebratory mood in each, almost as if she were getting ready to go to her birthday party in each picture, and celebrating with her grandchildren in the last one.<br />
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Click on any picture to view it full-size.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQGqzStC9R87mEqXpyYQQsEXXeGUP4AWiodyKg9HVuGgGQeepGKhp4XHM8OL-stqHlgt9LpvcUC0FQPoMoHwJ4ggnwJnaQBHaBzLyVpRzlfzFK_hBv4i3WGD2MRj9mNZvuEPvfw/s1600/Mom-1950s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1025" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQGqzStC9R87mEqXpyYQQsEXXeGUP4AWiodyKg9HVuGgGQeepGKhp4XHM8OL-stqHlgt9LpvcUC0FQPoMoHwJ4ggnwJnaQBHaBzLyVpRzlfzFK_hBv4i3WGD2MRj9mNZvuEPvfw/s640/Mom-1950s.jpg" width="408" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom in the 1950's</td></tr>
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<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGTNWrveCvbFntk7bE-CAVKC4R2Gn2I1NJBWCgaFMx-Y2K4IG2oXJdVBBE-aqbnAbwJpuCfHvzIktgOtrTGENqsHgMI-59xscAnpfn9EghTOdMlOb_xzY3p7iK8phQ6JO6RuiVEg/s1600/Mom-1960s-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1264" data-original-width="1600" height="504" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGTNWrveCvbFntk7bE-CAVKC4R2Gn2I1NJBWCgaFMx-Y2K4IG2oXJdVBBE-aqbnAbwJpuCfHvzIktgOtrTGENqsHgMI-59xscAnpfn9EghTOdMlOb_xzY3p7iK8phQ6JO6RuiVEg/s640/Mom-1960s-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom, early 1960's</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx1DEnKYkyFz6P-zEHTPhru5joPy1ZH0ztWpV8C3cbIixXruGaLBLzMT9BuwDRTzOE4xbqV_SY7oBQb16gEeass2_jAauCMKZ8-gAUZ6_FE2eVp_D-3O5KNpHTbpFCarwQC_ZD4Q/s1600/Mom-1960s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1082" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx1DEnKYkyFz6P-zEHTPhru5joPy1ZH0ztWpV8C3cbIixXruGaLBLzMT9BuwDRTzOE4xbqV_SY7oBQb16gEeass2_jAauCMKZ8-gAUZ6_FE2eVp_D-3O5KNpHTbpFCarwQC_ZD4Q/s640/Mom-1960s.jpg" width="432" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom, late 1960's</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIlj0L2rayCULQW3peb_8jgkedrT5-eo9QqmTqTnk481IL4bngzxnX9n3ez895JSSsToXznivYvBgL_OVAzIFPsckB5aYsYJzdeP665LhA0RV_XRYASwmyPMIJfRv-EFXEJatEQA/s1600/Mom-Chad-Kassia-Jessica.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1147" data-original-width="1600" height="458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIlj0L2rayCULQW3peb_8jgkedrT5-eo9QqmTqTnk481IL4bngzxnX9n3ez895JSSsToXznivYvBgL_OVAzIFPsckB5aYsYJzdeP665LhA0RV_XRYASwmyPMIJfRv-EFXEJatEQA/s640/Mom-Chad-Kassia-Jessica.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom, early 1990's</td></tr>
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<br />AquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0Beloit, WI 53511, USA42.5276281 -89.07524990000001742.3404891 -89.397973400000012 42.7147671 -88.752526400000022tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-69055375037113738812014-08-09T09:07:00.004-07:002014-08-09T09:07:25.829-07:00Mom from November Twenty-Sixth, 2000<a href="https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/DisabilityGrapeVine/conversations/topics/1765?var=1">https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/DisabilityGrapeVine/conversations/topics/1765?var=1</a><br />
<br />
<br />
The Disability Grapevine<br />
****The Number One Daily Newspaper for People with Disability****<br />
(The Daily Voice Of The Disability People)<br />
Issue # 37-Sunday<br />
****************************************************<br />
Title of Article:<br />
Letter To The Editor-Mike<br />
<br />
Author: <br />
Judy Oberbruner<br />
<br />
Article:<br />
Hi<br />
If there ever was a time to start a movement this is it. This young man <br />
needs an attorney to go at the system tooth and nail. Actually a public plea <br />
would help. Start a Free Mike campaign even if leaflets need to be printed <br />
and plastered all over the country. This sounds like a clear case of system <br />
abuse.<br />
<br />
He won't survive with out that kind of help.<br />
<br />
Call and re call TV, newspapers, celebrities, legislators, governor, any <br />
one you can think of.<br />
<br />
Use any legal means possible.<br />
<br />
I have worked in institutions and know if they have a judges order they can <br />
medicate at will.<br />
<br />
Judy Oberbruner<br />
<br />
AquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-694434541082327452014-01-12T22:41:00.002-08:002014-01-12T22:41:12.325-08:00The Pearl Of Sorrow...<div dir="ltr">
...is a wound that never fully heals,</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
For even if Odin's Raven were to tear it from your beating heart like a bug<br />
and fly away with it,</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
There is still the empty gap in your breast that fills in with the scar<br />
tissue of a love gone missing from your life.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
The Universe is filled with galaxies of love and light fleeing a void.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Dark energy, indeed.</div>
<div dir="ltr">
<br /></div>
<div dir="ltr">
Dan</div>
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AquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-80705448591846430912010-03-12T01:14:00.000-08:002010-03-12T01:14:21.947-08:00Aunt Felicia...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibdyQ7WwOxXjj9AQ0c4_y3YJMNmg6uXQGmJi-UF2XrjFUfy8NculPRQq2kbt2lFvGql360OySROexQHc5w_LKZzjjzrG_Y9zzxdXYkDveT1xyUszzuCBHbaQnlaxbxAAg2KEYkQQ/s1600-h/Felicia-cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibdyQ7WwOxXjj9AQ0c4_y3YJMNmg6uXQGmJi-UF2XrjFUfy8NculPRQq2kbt2lFvGql360OySROexQHc5w_LKZzjjzrG_Y9zzxdXYkDveT1xyUszzuCBHbaQnlaxbxAAg2KEYkQQ/s640/Felicia-cat.jpg" width="467" /></a></div><br />
<br />
I remember Mom found Gramma, her biological mother, and Gramma had adopted another girl later on. This is my Aunt Felicia when she was 15. She is 11 months older than me, so I was about 14 when this pic was taken.<br />
<br />
DanAquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-10671472343419812892009-11-24T01:18:00.001-08:002009-11-24T01:18:30.156-08:00Thinking of Mom tonight. <span style="font-size: x-small;">It would've been her birthday yesterday. I think it would've been 66. She passed on in early 2003. It's hard to believe it's been almost seven years now. </span>AquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-43798232671490122202009-01-21T23:39:00.000-08:002009-01-21T23:41:47.798-08:00I wonder if Kat comes here often or at all any more. She was one of Mom's best friends online for a few years at the end. They were always in cahoots, cooking up some kind of social activism for the disabled online.<br /><br />I hear from Kat every now and then on email, maybe I'll remind her of this site. *Ring, Ring*<br /><br />Something between the two of them.<br /><br />Miss ya Mom. We all think of you often.<br /><br />DanAquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-51087718106087414742009-01-17T02:31:00.001-08:002009-01-17T02:35:38.919-08:00As you can see, I'm re-publishing some of the poetry I wrote at the time of Mom's passing here to the blog. It's getting close to the anniversary of her death, and maybe that's what's brought me to this page for a freshening and updating.<br /><br />In my way, I see this as keeping Mom's memory alive. It's also the only way I can talk to her now.<br /><br />For all of you out there who lost a mother, sister, aunt, or other woman close to you through the evil of breast cancer, my condolences. Mom was only in her late 50's when the disease took her, just a few days after my birthday. That is just too young. It's not right, and it still pisses me off.<br /><br />DanAquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-17780720903451893512009-01-17T02:29:00.000-08:002009-01-17T02:31:00.659-08:00<h3><span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Rainbows On The Wall:</span></span></h3><p><span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Sitting here watching,<br />Rainbows dance on the wall,<br />Is it an angel,<br />What's making it,<br />I can't see where from,<br />All the words are said,<br />Just waiting on the,<br />Phenobarbital party,<br />If the angels are spinning,<br />'Round and round the ceiling,<br />I wish I saw them clearly,<br />There by the painting,<br />Little Gypsy woman on the wall,<br />There's rainbows all around you,<br />Rainbows on the wall,<br />You went through.<br /><br />AquarianM<br /><br />By: Daniel A. Stafford<br />(C) 02/07/2003<br /></span></span></p><h3><span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Author's Comments</span></span></h3><p><span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Said good bye to Mom today,<br />big hug, she wanted to go to sleep.<br />*************************<br />Mom is gone. She chose complete sedation -<br />unconsciousness until the end. I found a little angel pin<br />in the doorway to her room, and I pegged it into the wall,<br />over her doorway. Just a tiny thing. Maybe it was the<br />answer to this poem.</span></span></p>AquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-85100594593364858412009-01-15T23:22:00.001-08:002009-01-15T23:22:14.362-08:00<h3><span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The Darkest Hour:</span></span></h3><span style="font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica;"><span style="font-size:85%;">What are the words you say,<br />When the one who shaped so much of your life,<br />Lies hurting and you can not help,<br />Have nothing but the arms of love to offer,<br />There in the unseeable black face of good-bye?<br /><br />I know there will be no more words soon,<br />And I wish I could put every word in the universe,<br />Here, now, this minute,<br />In perfect order with perfect heart,<br />Just to make you know I love you,<br />I and many more of us.<br /><br />When you step through the veil,<br />Walk beyond all this broken dream,<br />Sleep, rest, find comfort,<br />Follow your heart's desires,<br />Knowing we will love you all the way.<br /><br />We'll stand by you,<br />Just before the dawn,<br />In the darkest hour.<br /><br />When our own night falls,<br />We shall find you no matter how far,<br />Go without fear and without worry,<br />Into the sunshine.<br /><br />You take all our love with you, Mom.<br /><br />That's what you say.<br /><br />We love you.<br /><br />AquarianM<br /><br />By: Daniel A. Stafford<br />(C) 02/03/2003</span></span>AquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-16969806665431658592009-01-15T04:33:00.001-08:002009-01-15T04:33:36.180-08:00So Now I Can e-mail Mom...This makes it better on certain days. Christmas. Her birthday. Mother's Day. Nono's b-rthday. The anniversary of one of them passing.<p>Dan<p><br>Words are the mind's bridge - its connection to all the universe.<br>Love is the heart's bridge - its connection to all other souls.<br>Loving words can work miracles.AquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-51414740371371005062009-01-15T04:24:00.000-08:002009-01-15T04:25:54.727-08:00Quite a bit of re-work here, but at least now she's got an up-to-date template that I can easily add items to.<br /><br />Going to send a link to Sis 'n Kat so they can post.<br /><br />DanAquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-4358848895464929052009-01-15T04:12:00.000-08:002009-01-15T04:15:13.967-08:00I was just thinking, "It's coming up on six years." (Since Mom passed away.)<br /><br />I can hardly believe it. She was always such a force and presence in my life, it's like she's never really gone. Except when I feel like picking up the phone to call. I have a pretty good idea of what she'd say.<br /><br />Miss ya, Mom. Always will.<br /><br />DanAquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-1111202774304159862005-03-18T19:24:00.000-08:002005-03-18T19:27:48.410-08:00-------- Original Message -------- <br /><br />Subject: Getting to know you<br />Date: Sun, 07 Jan 2001 20:36:12 -0000<br />From: judy o<br />To: Dan<br /><br />Okay, here's what you're supposed to do. Copy, not forward this entire<br />email, and paste it onto a new e-mail that you will send. Change all of<br />answers so that they apply to you. Then, send this to a whole bunch of<br />people you know INCLUDING the person who sent it to you. The theory is that<br />you will learn a lot of little known facts about your friends. Remember to<br />send it<br />back to the person who sent it to you.<br /><br />Person whom answered below: Judy Oberbruner<br /><br />LIVING ARRANGEMENT? Apartment, 2 bedrooms, like it so so<br />with dog Jordan, so so dog lol<br /><br />WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW? Don't Sweat the Small Stuff...and it's all<br />small stuff<br /><br />WHAT'S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? No mouse pad, got old. threw it out, table works<br />ok<br /><br />FAVORITE BOARD GAME? Backgammon<br /><br />FAVORITE MAGAZINE? PC Computing<br /><br />FAVORITE SMELLS? Italian Grocery Store<br /><br />FAVORITE SOUNDS? Quarters in the slot machines when winning, Native American<br />music<br /><br />WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD? Future unknown because of disability<br /><br />WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING? Will<br />I be able to walk well today and where's the coffee<br /><br />ROLLER COASTER, SCARY OR EXCITING? SCARY!<br /><br />HOW MANY RINGS BEFORE YOU ANSWER THE PHONE? Get to it when I can, and how<br />can I afford to get my computer and phone separated<br /><br />FAVORITE FOODS? Fresh fruits and yummy salads, guacamole, ice cream<br /><br />CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA? Vanilla<br /><br />DO YOU LIKE TO DRIVE FAST? No, hate paying tickets to the state, terrible<br />waste of money<br /><br />DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL? No<br /><br />STORMS - COOL OR SCARY? Cool<br /><br />WHAT TYPE WAS YOUR FIRST CAR? 1956 Olds<br /><br />If YOU COULD MEET ONE PERSON DEAD OR ALIVE? Bill Gates<br /><br />FAVORITE ALCOHOLIC DRINK? Gin and tonic w/lime slice<br /><br />WHAT IS YOUR ZODIAC SIGN? On the cusp for Scorpio and Sagittarius<br /><br />DO YOU EAT THE STEMS OF BROCCOLI? Yes<br /><br />IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY JOB YOU WANTED, WHAT WOULD IT BE? Professional Golfer<br /><br />DYE HAIR ANY COLOR? Yes, blond and most of the rest as mood hits me<br /><br />EVER BEEN IN LOVE? Yes, some very serious some not so much<br /><br />EVER HATED ANYONE?? Yes<br /><br />IS THE GLASS HALF EMPTY OR HALF FULL? Half full<br /><br />FAVORITE MOVIES: Not a movie fan<br /><br />ARE YOU A LEFTY OR A RIGHTY? Righty<br /><br />DO YOU TYPE WITH YOUR FINGERS ON THE RIGHT KEYS? No not any more, used to<br />but now soon need to be able to dictate to my computer soon as I can afford<br />Dragon Dictate<br /><br />WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED? Slippers<br /><br />WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE NUMBER? 1000<br /><br />FAVORITE SPORT TO WATCH? Football<br /><br />SAY ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT YOU<br />THIS: New on line friend, Dawn, that I worked with on a great project for<br />awhile. Has a great mind like mine, lol, only much better memory and typing,<br />very capable nice person, into social justice like I am, especially for<br />disabled kids in school, and I prefer adults.<br /><br />MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? I have no idea because I have very diverse friends<br />and family. But first guess, my son Dan.<br /><br />MOST LIKELY NOT TO RESPOND? Will be interesting to find out. Will keep<br />statistics ha ha.<br /><br />Judy OAquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-1104535294754026732004-12-31T15:21:00.000-08:002004-12-31T15:21:34.756-08:00<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">HAPPY NEW YEAR 2005!!!!!</span>AquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-1094916138422396912004-09-11T08:22:00.000-07:002004-09-11T08:22:18.423-07:00<strong>On this day, September 11th, of all days:</strong>
<br />
<br /><em><strong>Turn Away Cold Voices...</strong></em>
<br />
<br />Close your ears,
<br />Listen to the heartbeat of Earth,
<br />Close your ears,
<br />Feel the touch of love and all it's dear worth,
<br />Close your ears and see clear and clean,
<br />Close your heart,
<br />To the siren of the war machine,
<br />Turn away cold voices,
<br />Leave heartache far away in the dark,
<br />Turn away cold voices,
<br />Forget to fan the spark,
<br />Let not the liars tell you,
<br />That death becomes them,
<br />For no heart that beats,
<br />Should by any man's hand end,
<br />Turn away cold voices,
<br />Cause not any river of tears,
<br />Turn away cold voices,
<br />Full of hatred, lies, and unjust fears,
<br />Hold out your hand in kindness,
<br />Together love this Earth,
<br />Turn away cold voices,
<br />And remember the measure of your worth.
<br />
<br />AquarianM
<br />
<br />By: Daniel A. Stafford
<br />(C) 04/24/2002
<br />
<br />
<br /><em><strong>The Thorn Of Crowns:</strong></em>
<br />
<br />One doesn't need to be crucified to die on the inside,
<br />Heavy responsibility is not always easy to bear,
<br />Temptation can blind you at times,
<br />And losing you objectivity can be worse than being blind.
<br />
<br />The sepia tones of old photographs can't hold you at night.
<br />
<br />Never forget those times you cried,
<br />And how they came about,
<br />Remember the times you smiled,
<br />And what gave those smiles birth.
<br />
<br />Everyone has those moments in greater or lesser degree.
<br />
<br />Even if you are King of the World,
<br />You can't eat diamonds and emeralds,
<br />And fast cars and jets can carry away,
<br />Just as easily as to.
<br />
<br />You could be haunted even on yacht at sea under forever stars.
<br />
<br />Think about it,
<br />Will the world truly have been better for you having walked it,
<br />Even just one little bit,
<br />The sum answers of that question alone are set in stone.
<br />
<br />The true bits of gold carried by men.
<br />
<br />When power comes upon you,
<br />And you've walked the the halls of rulers,
<br />Lying with a rattle in your throat,
<br />As the angels gather round you,
<br />
<br />Was the life you wore torn useless by the Thorn of Crowns?
<br />
<br />AquarianM
<br />
<br />By: Daniel A. Stafford
<br />(C) 03/15/2004
<br />
<br />Author's Comments:
<br />I think most people will understand.
<br />
<br />
<br /><em><strong>Return My Colors:</strong></em>
<br />
<br />I saw them waving in the breeze,
<br />Those threads and dyes of freedom,
<br />Pursuit of life, of liberty, of happiness,
<br />Red of courage,
<br />White of purity,
<br />Blue of truth,
<br />They stand for freedom,
<br />They do not belong,
<br />Upon the collars of intolerance,
<br />Upon the poles where heads hang,
<br />In the circle of a lake of tears,
<br />In the halls where our lives are pried open,
<br />Like a clamshell overfed on statute pages.
<br />
<br />I want my colors back.
<br />
<br />I want those colors to bring tears,
<br />Because they mean a home where one is soveriegn,
<br />Upon the lands we've worked to earn,
<br />Where spies are some dark shadows across oceans,
<br />Or figments in story books,
<br />And no one is disappeared without a trace,
<br />Just upon the say-so of fear's hounds.
<br />
<br />I want my colors back,
<br />To wear with pride,
<br />Because they represent a place of good hearts,
<br />And live as you are.
<br />
<br />AquarianM
<br />
<br />By: Daniel A. Stafford
<br />(C) 08/28/2003
<br />
<br />Author's Comments:
<br />Our rights and liberties are critical to the character and identity of this country. There is no place on Earth like this place was just two and a half years ago. I want that place back, and the colors that go with it.
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><em><strong>Walking The Needle:</strong></em>
<br />
<br />We all must face a darkness today,
<br />As a world and as a nation,
<br />For the man-made shadow cast yesterday,
<br />And that just a cumulation of many all over the world,
<br />And as our hearts are torn with rage and grief,
<br />We must remember that we are moral beings,
<br />And that wanton retaliation is no such thing as moral,
<br />And we must remember that violence only breeds violence,
<br />And insanity does not bring death to life,
<br />For how many bombs have been thrown in truth by whom?
<br />
<br />We all must face a darkness today,
<br />As a person and as a human being,
<br />For the manmade shadow we contemplate casting today,
<br />And that just an addition to those all over the world,
<br />And as our hearts are torn with rage and grief,
<br />We must remember that we are moral beings,
<br />And that much of what races in our minds is not,
<br />For long after we extend our hands in violence,
<br />We will remember that we were amoral beings,
<br />And ultimately the cost is a ticker tape of blood spots,
<br />And shadows upon more souls.
<br />
<br />We all must face a darkness today,
<br />And wonder how to bring back the Sun,
<br />And in no way can I poor poet that I am,
<br />Give out the definitive answer,
<br />For I must face a darkness today,
<br />Staring at the fires within my own heart,
<br />And perhaps that is a good place for each of us to start.
<br />
<br />AquarianM
<br />
<br />By: Daniel A. Stafford
<br />(C) 09/12/2001
<br />
<br />
<br /><em><strong>By Candle Lit Tears:</strong></em>
<br />
<br />You see a soft yellow glow everywhere now,
<br />Millions of points of gentle light at night,
<br />All over this vast land with a common heartbeat,
<br />And the faces may change but not so the tears,
<br />You will know if you look and see,
<br />Down from up above where you are now,
<br />Your gift is remembered well,
<br />The one you didn't know you would give,
<br />As you left for your work and errands on that fateful day,
<br />But you will know it if you look,
<br />Not by the words of angels or historians,
<br />Though those may come your way,
<br />No, you will know it if you look,
<br />By the rivers of candle lit tears.
<br />
<br />AquarianM
<br />
<br />By: Daniel A. Stafford
<br />(C) 09/17/2001
<br />
<br />Words are the mind's bridge - it's connection to all the universe.
<br />Love is the heart's bridge - it's connection to all other souls.
<br />Loving words can work miracles.
<br />
<br /><strong>There will be no further posts today in remembrance of the people and cherished intangible treasures that were damaged on this day in 2001.</strong>
<br />AquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-1094311440389991812004-09-04T08:24:00.000-07:002004-09-04T08:24:00.390-07:00We were thinking of you today...Mom,<br /><br />Kat went and found your old Yahoo! profile - still online after these <br />near two years. Amazing, isn't it? Anyway, we all love and miss you. <br />Justin has started high school this week. Bet you'd be proud. Good news <br />from Tiff, too. New job, EMT & nursing training in the works, all great <br />stuff.<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />Dan<br />AquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-1092647863362949332004-08-16T02:13:00.000-07:002004-08-16T02:17:43.363-07:00<strong>My Other Country:</strong>
<br />
<br />Do you remember Mom?
<br />Do you remember how Nono and Noni were?
<br />They left home and went to a new country.
<br />They married there in that other country.
<br />They found someone to trust as much as they loved,
<br />Loyalty was as high on their list as love,
<br />And they found their other country.
<br />It wasn't Tuscany or Sicily,
<br />Not Quarratta or Messina,
<br />Just Beloit Wisconsin USA,
<br />That little church of the angels,
<br />Saint Paul's church where they said those vows,
<br />Where you were baptized and had first communion,
<br />Where you and Dad were married,
<br />Where Lori and I were baptized,
<br />Where there were angels on the ceiling.
<br />I walked my Baby down the street tonight,
<br />Around the block wobbly,
<br />Too much wine for her and just enough for me,
<br />I made her feel loved and safe like she deserves,
<br />Saw her off to bed after she was ready for the room to stop spinning,
<br />And realized I was in my other country.
<br />You knew because you gave us your bed back in our early days.
<br />Could you have picked any other way to wake us up and blow our minds?
<br />I think Nono and Lori were mad at each other back when,
<br />Neither realizing they were angry because of love,
<br />Because they were moving over territory no one understands,
<br />Each loving the other and thinking they were wrong,
<br />But underneath the anger was the roots of love.
<br />Maybe they'll know when both are in Heaven some day.
<br />I smoked a cigar out in the garage tonight,
<br />Sent the incense up to Heaven where Nono would smell it,
<br />Hoping he would bring all of you down to visit,
<br />My Quarratta and Messina and Beloit,
<br />The country I knew and grew up in,
<br />My Yates Avenue crowd.
<br />Noni went off in '70,
<br />Nono while I was away in boot camp in '79,
<br />And you Mom,
<br />It's going to be two years this February 11th,
<br />Just three days after my birthday.
<br />I've found my other country and she's beautiful and loving and loyal,
<br />But I can't go home and visit my mother like Nono did,
<br />So I picked three stars up in Heaven,
<br />One for each of you and glorious,
<br />You're at the center of Casseopia the Princess,
<br />Noni and Nono are at the center of Cygnus the Swan,
<br />And I can look up at night in the Summer,
<br />Even though cigar smoke will never float that high,
<br />I can feel you there like the undertone of my Universe,
<br />You in bobby socks popping bubble gum and bold,
<br />Noni reading the paper while the sugu simmers on the stove,
<br />Nono having a cigar there with me,
<br />Lori and Jeff and I,
<br />We're in our other country now,
<br />Even though it was the one we were born in,
<br />In the end all that ever made anywhere home,
<br />That was simply the love we've always known.
<br />
<br />AquarianM
<br />
<br />By: Daniel A. Stafford
<br />(C) 08/16/2004
<br />
<br />Author's Comments:
<br />Some place somewhere in between night and home and Heaven. It doesn't matter where that is.
<br />AquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-1090478954995860812004-07-21T23:39:00.000-07:002004-07-21T23:49:15.000-07:00Mom - in a place and time and dimension where you can feel this, know that Gabryella will need the whispers of your strong spirit. I wish you were here on this Earth to help her along, I pray that you will guide her in her dreams. It still shocks me when I go to pick up the phone, I can't bring myself to delete you from speed dial, I still think to call you and falter when I realize I can't. I hope and pray that you have broken through the barriers that you knew with Noni & Nono - every day I sit out by our garage with my cigar and feel the three of you there, Nono has a cigar by my side, Noni reads the paper shaking her head but smiling, you sitting on the side of my pickup popping bubble gum with a pony tail and bobby socks popping bubble gum. Some times I long for four year old days watching Elvis and eating spinache. That's what hits me every time he sings, that or Ed sullivan in Noni & Nono's living room. I'm not sure if Lori & Jeff remember but I go back there every time. Love always to all of you,
<br />
<br />DanAquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-1090450873293247062004-07-21T16:00:00.000-07:002004-07-21T16:02:25.216-07:00Hope you know your a great grandma now. I know your watching. We sure miss you. Love you mom
<br />
<br />Lorihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01716979582005910893noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-1066204521886754502003-10-15T00:55:00.000-07:002003-10-15T01:09:10.946-07:00Nono used to let me help fill the humidifier behind the furnace and change the filters. Funny how they had a showerhead coming out of the unfinished ceiling down there so the bathtub would stay nice. I remember there was a meat grinder on Nono's work bench too down there, the kind you crank by hand, and that Noni would sometimes use it to grind beef for meatballs or chicken livers for the sugu. Bet you thought I'd forgot, hmm? And all the canning we used to do in that house when we lived there with Noni later? Remember that, Mom? Noni used to have a garden back there too, I think. I know she used a clothesline out there and that ringer washer forever. Clothespins were fascinating, especially when she started getting the ones with springs. Noni also had the old Singer sewing machine. She was great at sewing. I remember she told me one time she used to work at the old Freeman Shoe plant - not the one out in the industrial park along the interstate, the one before that that was a smaller brick place down Yates a few blocks. I think that was the same place your storage unit was when you had the construction company. I remember a zillion times watching the flywheel spin on that old treadle powered sewing machine. It was a really nice one, too, in great condition. Noni kept it perfect. Do you know if she made Johnny for me? I can't remember. She used to make those funny turtles that the bath soap went into, too. Those were neat. They were usually red or green and made out of some thin sponge material. Lots of times if I was really a mess she would have me take a bath in that concrete wash basin down there in the basement. I remember that, too. I remember all the details of the furniture, like the red chair with Berber fabric on it that she sat in a lot that had the carved wood handles, and the round table with the drawer in it made out of wood they sat in front of the bay window. There was some kind of foot stool, too. It had a leather top and metal wire hoops for legs. Nono would always sit by the round table reading the newspaper in the mornings after his stroke, with the huge magnifying glass. I also remember when the crab apple tree he planted for Noni right in front of the bay window was planted. It seemed just like a little stick, but it grew taller than me by the time we finally moved away for the last time. I remember watching Felix the Cat at their house a zillion times, too, or playing with my friend Jimmy Wallace down the street until they would call me in. I bet you were at work then. I sure know you did enough of that in your life. You know, that memory about Nono'sd stroke just reminded me how they always drove Ford Falcons, and how Noni would have to drive because Nono's eye closed after his stroke. I remember the trips to Monroe and the steam locomotive in the park there, or out to Johnny's farm and the way Johnny's wife always gave us milk fresh from the cows, or picking strawberries in the springtime with Noni and sometimes you were off work and got to go too. AquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-1066203560924030572003-10-15T00:39:00.000-07:002003-10-15T00:39:20.563-07:00Noni is behind my love of percolators, too. I watched her perk the coffee many an early morning.AquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-1066203496098742772003-10-15T00:38:00.000-07:002003-10-15T00:38:15.753-07:00Mom, I just figured out that the birthday cake in that picture of Nono, Noni, and Jeff has two pink candles on it. Being dated September of 1966, that would make it Lori Ann's 2nd birthday party. Thought she might like to know that.
<br />
<br />Love,
<br />
<br />DanAquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-1066202131683855972003-10-15T00:15:00.000-07:002003-10-15T00:15:31.660-07:00Some things I should mention:
<br />
<br />Nono is why I love sitting in front of my garage with the radio on smoking cigars in the summer. He also is why I use a three head Norelco electric razor to this day to shave with. I was given one of his old ones when I was thirteen, started using it when I was 17, and used it until it fell apart when I was over thirty. I think it must have been nearly thirty itself. Because of Nono, I saw Muhammed Ali fight as it happened many times. Nono is why I respect a man who is a solid worker.
<br />
<br />Noni is why it near brings tears to my eyes to cook pasta, why I can't look at a rolling pin without thinking of made completely from scratch ravioli, why ironing always makes me feel at peace when I do it, even though it's not often.
<br />
<br />Both of them are why I love listening to Elvis, why I think Christmas demands lights, why I know there is magic in the world. It's there because people have something called love.
<br />
<br />Despite all the mistakes they made, Mom made, and WE made and make, that is one thing all of us know deep down. AquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4150870.post-1066201209133737542003-10-15T00:00:00.000-07:002003-10-15T00:04:10.513-07:00I put some of these pictures up at my desk at work so that I'd always remember my people. Noni & her mama were from Medina in Sicily, Nono was un Tuscano from Quarratta in Italia. Both emigrated to the United States in the 1920's and wound up settling in Beloit, WI as there was work and a large population of Italian Immigrants there. Noni's mother and her brother, Uncle Ross Gerizzo both came over as well.
<br />
<br />Noni's mother is buried in the cemetery out on Colley Road in Beloit, and when I was very little we would go every week and trim the grass 'round her headstone and put out flowers. She died before I was born, at age 65 of leukemia.
<br />
<br />Noni & Nono are buried side by side in the cemetery out on Shopier Road next to Our Lady of The Assumption Catholic school and church. So is Uncle Ross.
<br />
<br />Noni died of leukemia at 65 also. I was eight years old when she died. We were living in Nebraska, 500 miles away. Mom drove all the way back as fast as she could, but Noni was gone before we could get there. That was the first time I'd ever seen my mother cry. Noni & Mom hasd often had a very antagonistic relationship, to put it mildly, but I think they had healed much of it after Mom was an adult. I know Noni was an AWESOME grandmother. She was absolutely incredible in the kitchen. I can not stress that one point enough, cooking was her art and she was a master at it. Her spagetti sauce (Sugu in Italian) would go on the stove to simmer at 6:00 in the morning, and be there until it was time for dinner. Everything she ever touched in that kitchen at 1740 Yates Avenue turned to absolute gold. Lori is the one who should post all the recipies, but no one could ever duplicate her craft. She spoiled us all rotten, too. There are so many things I remember about her, the way she would iron in the basement and listen to Mario Lanza on one of those old suitcase record players. The way she grew fresh spices under the kitchen window in the flower beds along the house. The way she would make biscotti, the big snowflake flat cookies in an iron like a press. She would always knit scarves and mittens and hats and afghans and baby booties for people. She loved the soap operas, and also the old Divorce Court. She was quite capable of giving a dose of razor sharp tongue to any adult she didn't agree with, but she treated us children wonderfully.
<br />
<br />Uncle Ross is buried in the same cemetery as Nono & Noni. He died before I was born. Mom and Nono both told me he had a heart attack watching the "Friday night fights" - boxing. The same thing happened to Nono in 1979 while I was away in basic training for the Air Force.
<br />
<br />Nono was always a worker when I was very little. He worked at Fairbanks Morse for 44 years. (Now owned by Colt Industries.) I remember how Noni would drive down in the afternoon to pick him up, and I would run down the sidewalk in front of Fairbanks and he would pick me up and whirl me around. Sometimes Noni would go to the Old Fashioned Bakery across the street from Fairbanks on Park Avenue before he got out of work, and she would buy Jelly Bismarcs, my favorite. The lady who ran the shop would always give me a free sugar cookie. Sometimes Nono and Noni would go to Frank the Tailor's place. He was an Italian tailor who made really nice clothes for gentlemen. (Frank moved back to Italy when I was in my early teens.) Other times they would go to the Italian grocery store in Rockford and the delivery men would roll out huge wheels of Parmesian cheese. Italian grocery stores, the real thing, they are WONDERFUL places. The smells and all the foods... At any rate, Nono was a quiet man mostly, given his choice. He loved smoking cigars in the summer, outside with the garage door open and the baseball game on a little clock radio on the shelf. If you look at the full size picture of him and his mother here, he has a lit cigar in his left hand. He and I would watch all the westerns on Friday nights unless there was boxing on. Often Nono, Noni, and I would watch the Ed Sullivan show together. I saw Elvis's 1968 comeback special with them, and one of his appearances on Ed Sullivan. I also saw the Beatles on Ed Sullivan with them when the Beatles were a new phenomenon. I think I was three or four. We also watched Flip Wilson and Red Skelton, the old Dick VanDyke show, and the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. Nono had lots of neat old tools in the garage, and he would work on things and teach me little bits. He taught me how to ride a bike without training wheels. I used the same method to teach my son. Nono had a little tiny dog later in his life, long after Noni passed away. Her name was precious, and she was half Pekinese and half Poodle. The two of them were inseparable. Nono would also always have a glass of wine with dinner. Every night. Not several glasses, at most two. It was part of dinner. We would have hard salami and gallon jugs of Gallo red table wine down in the wine cellar, and we'd always have to go fill his little wine decanter before dinner. He had his moments, he would get mad at us as teenagers and say bad things to us, but it was always alright in the end. People just have limits and sometimes even when your really love someone alot they get to you and you have to vent, but we always knew in the end how it really was. I think Nono was Mom's favorite person on Earth.
<br />
<br />Mom, I know this place is supposed to be about you, but the memory of you is incomplete without the memory of these two. Ypour adopted parents and you had your difficulties, I know, but I remember you telling me that they made up for it as grandparents, and I know you meant Noni. Now that you are all together up there in Heaven, I hope that the two of you can share the love that transcends this place, this school we all came to. I may very well write of them in bits and pieces here, because they are a part of your story as much as any of us are. These are things that deserve not to be lost.
<br />
<br />Love,
<br />
<br />DanAquarianMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14627216435587842196noreply@blogger.com0