Day 17 of 17 Days of the High Holy Month: It's the Irish Way

When I began this project, it was out of a sense of sadness over the 25 year anniversary of my mother’s passing. Yet in completing these 17 videos, the storytelling in each one has brought joy and reminded me of the great value family, friendship and traditions. I hope you enjoy this finalvideo that perfectly exemplifies all of those things.

Day 16 of 17 High Holy Month: Experiencing Buffalo’s Valley "Old Neighborhood" Parade Lineup

Since I was born in Buffalo, NY and have lived most my life here, I thought it was time to experience my hometown’s Valley “Old Neighborhood” Patrick’s Day Parade. It is a shortened version of the city’s traditional St. Pat’s Parade and takes place in the First Ward—the cradle of Irish culture and heritage in the Queen City.

For some reason I thought this parade was a long-running Buffalo tradition. However, today while meandering through the pre-parade lineup, and chatting with organizers and participants, I learned this year marks the 25th anniversary of the event. Which means it began the same year my mother passed.

And so this video project comes full circle…..

Day 14 of the 17 Days of the High Holy Month: The Irish Song

In 1999, my daughter and I visited the Emerald Isle on a quest to try and discover members of our family. While there we managed to take part in a walking pub tour in Dublin, It was there I learned this song that I’ve since performed in theaters for many-a-year.

This is a recording of it that was part of a virtual “live mic” performance.
Enjoy!

High Holy Month Project Payoff

Whenever I tackle a project like the 17 Days of the High Holy Month, I spend time wondering if I should, if I can, if anyone will care.

While I am only two days into the creation of these videos, responses to this project---celebrating the High Holy Month and honoring my mother---have already banished all doubts.

It all began yesterday after sending out my newsletter. In it I included information about my 17 Days project, along with an advance view of Day #1's video.

Within hours, I received an email response from a woman whose name I did not recognize. Opening and reading I was thrilled to discover that the sender was the youngest member of the Walsh Family, who had lived next door to my family during my teen years in Kenmore.

This woman was about five years old when we first met---a delicate sprite with beautiful blond curls and the greenest of eyes. And when we met, she introduced herself succinctly and distinctively.

"My name is Mary Katherine Walsh Katherine."

I found great joy in this sweet child's independent nature and for all the years we were neighbors, I called her by that name, exactly as she deigned.

Swirling memories of our families enveloped me as I read through her email. It had been 50-plus years since we had seen or spoken to each other. I had so many questions and soon began crafting a reply---of course beginning my note with the salutation she had always clearly demanded!

I shared bits and pieces of my life and asked questions about hers. I asked how she had come to my newsletter mailing list, as I was sure our paths had not crossed for many years.

As I sent my email on its way, I found myself wishing for a response. And was most grateful when my wish was granted.

Mary's reply was lengthy and filled with stories about her family and memories about mine. She noted that she had heard me in a radio interview a few years ago and she found comfort in the familiar sound of my voice. Then she shared memories that fully honored the intent of my High Holy Month Project.

"While looking through family photos recently, I came across a photo of your mom singing with my family at my wedding! Your mom was always there for my brothers and sisters, and me. She came to our rescue on more than one occasion and I hope she knew how much we appreciated her. I remember her as having a sharp wit and a cool head in a crisis, of which we seemed to have many, while growing up next door to you."

My mother passed 24 years ago this month. Her family of parents and seven brothers and sisters have also passed. There are very few people alive who can share their experiences---their memories--- of my mother. But when it happens, those stories are the best gift anyone could give to me.

Fifteen days to go.....and I look forward to every experience those days will bring.

In Honor and Memory

Like everyone connected through the internet, I get a lot of e-mails. In fact every day I sort through a host of funny pictures, ribald jokes, and forwarded chain letters that I read, enjoy, and summarily delete.

However, every once in a while I receive an e-mail of significance—a collection of words important enough to compel me to share them with the cyberspace community. Which is exactly what I did on a sunny Tuesday morning in September, 2001.

A friend of mine had sent along a thought-provoking e-mail, entitled, “Some Thoughts for a Happy Day.” The theme of the composition focused on the need to “seize the moment and live life to the fullest.”

I read the essay and re-read it, in so doing realizing the electronic transmission perfectly matched my own personal life philosophy. Further, the words provided me with a valuable reminder that life is short, we need to play hard and enjoy. So, I decided to tap into my lengthy list of e-mail addresses and forward the correspondence to family and friends. In the process I re-titled it, “Life as it Should be Lived”.

In one of those serendipitous life moments, as I hit my computer’s “send” button to put my group mailing on its merry way, the phone rang. It was my husband urging me to turn on the television.

Within moments, my mind was reeling as I watched the incredulous turn of events play out in New York, in Washington, and across a grassy field in Pennsylvania.

Conflicting emotions of fear, anger, sorrow, and compassion pulsed through my body, while the relentless journalist’s queries of who, what, when, where and why tortured my writer’s brain.

The last time I’d visited the Big Apple I went to the World Trade Center. I sat at the restaurant in the rooftop Windows on the World Restaurant and felt as if I was, truly, sitting on top of the world. It was a memorable evening forever captured in a group picture I have hanging on my office wall.

Yet on that sunny September day, in a matter of moments, that picture and the people in it were al that remained of that magical evening.

Moving my glance from that celebratory photo to the devastating reality unfolding before me on TV, I felt suddenly isolated. I wanted, no needed, to reach out and touch another human being— to assure myself that no matter how shattering this incomprehensible event might be, my family and my friends were still alive and well—that my sense of normalcy was somehow going to survive.

At about that same moment, e-mail messages began filling my inbox, all referencing the same subject—”Life as It Should Be Lived.” The sender’s names reflected many of the family and friends to whom I had written, only moments earlier.

As I opened their notes, a flood of grief and fear filled my computer screen, along with phrases that spoke of the value of family, the importance of friendship.

At the same time, my phone began ringing—my husband, my daughter, my sister-in-law, my friends, fellow writers, people from New York to California— calling one after another, all responding to the same need to reach out and ensure the stability of their lives.

We talked until our senses and sensibilities were somewhat soothed, then said loving good-byes, promising to talk more often and get together soon.

As I refocused on the day’s terrible events still unfolding, I once more returned to the e-mail that had so innocently started my morning. I read it yet again, this time with a new focus and understanding, lingering over the final line that read:

“If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call, what would you say and why are you waiting?”

For the countless numbers in those four airplanes, three office buildings and random city streets, that question is now irrelevant.

For the rest of us, perhaps of greater import than the question is how we shall decide to answer

2001 “A Life Well Lived” by Christina M. Abt. Excerpt from Heart and Soul The Best of Years of My Op-Ed Life 2016

I May Be Old But...

These days I have a saying that I use with my kids and grandkids quite often. “I may be old, but I’m not dead!”
Too graphic?

Maybe, but it definitely drives home my point. While I might be on the far end of the human age spectrum, I’ve got a lot of life, joy, and love left in me. That’s one of the reasons I wrote Money or Love.

As the book tagline details, this novel is about internet dating from the far side of 40. What the story reveals is a blend of real life online dating experiences — -good, bad and dangerous — -along with a heart-warming tale of womenfriends, family, and our never-ending need for love…on every level, at any age.

In writing this book, I drew from my own internet dating experiences, invested time interviewing people about their online dating endeavors, and researched online dating sites. Then I blended it all together in a light-hearted storyline that I hoped would encourage people to look for love at any age, while also being safely aware of the pitfalls of virtual dating.

Recently, the producers of the reality TV shows, The Bachelor and The Bachelorette, announced that this fall they will launch the first The Golden Bachelor Show featuring 71-year old Gerry Turner as the GQ star.

I say it’s about time they turned the spotlight on the boomer generation. We may be older, but we’re not dead! (see…it grows on you!)

I imagine this show will follow The Bachelor/Bachelorette pattern of exotic locations, extravagant dining, and over the top activities. However, I’m pretty sure the relationships among the chosen group of 65-and-over-women, and Mr Turner may be just a bit different from the other shows.

The truth is, reaching this golden-age-range changes the dating game. No doubt, many of us are still looking for love, but our needs, desires, and wants are now defined by different viewpoints.

We’re not looking to marry and start a family. We don’t need to establish professional identities and careers. And we definitely are not in the market for someone to redefine our lives, and how we live them.

Actually, we’re looking to go back to our youth. Not physically, but in the simple ways which, as kids, we made friends and built relationships. Talking, laughing, sharing foods defined as not good for us, listening to music, riding bikes, playing games, and having sleepovers.

All of which brings me to two quotes by the illustrious Katherine Hepburn that pretty much sum up this post.

“I often wonder whether men and women really suit each other. Perhaps they should live next door and just visit now and then.”

“Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get — only with what you are expecting to give — which is everything.”

To Gerry Turner and the bevy of 65-plus women who will worship at his Golden Bachelor altar this fall, I wish you all the best of luck in finding love.

To the rest of America’s Golden Agers, I wish you the desire…and the stamina…to keep looking for love. After all, we may be older, but….yeah….you know.