We are soooo much alike....

Pictured in this picture is the cast of the Godfather..... As pictured here are:

Michael Corleone(youngest brother-most responsible and caring), Vito Corleone (the father), Sonny Corleone (oldest brother-hot tempered, thought of no one but himself) and Fredo Corleone (middle brother- really the black sheep due to his ignorance.)

I am Italian. More so, I am Sicilian which means I take my familia ties VERY serious. My father and I love the trilogy of the Godfather. No, not because we have any mafioso ties, but simply because we can relate. Let me break this down for you.........

I am the youngest. My name is Michelle (or Michael as we refer to me in my family) and I am and always have been the glue that holds my family together. (The roles of my brothers have been switched) Next in line is the middle son, Steve (or Sonny). He is such an ass hole. He is married, has two YOUNG daughters and lives his life for himself ONLY. Then there is my oldest brother Ron. (we call him Fredo) as he is such a simple man. Very naive. Very much NOT a part of the family businesses...........

Now, if you know anything about the Godfather movies the roles of each child is VERY well layed out for each character....... This story alone is about my Sonny (Steve).

My mother died- he went hunting in Georgia because he "had to be with God". Leaving me (the youngest) to plan and pay for the funeral of our mother. When he came back for the funeral, he had the nerve to tell me the song choices were too emotional for him and his wife and I wasn't allowed to use the list of songs I chose. At that point I didn't care as he high tailed it out of town and didn't help.

That is not a build out for this story, just a point on his selfish ways........

As you watch the trilogy, you see the relation between Michael and Sonny at its highest. Sonny feels it is his calling to protect Michael from the world that he is not allowed to be a part of. Sonny does it well, until ultimately Michael is forced into the lifestyle he never wanted, to clean up his brothers messes, as he is the only one with any compassion, common sense or sense of loyalty to anyone other than himself. Throughout the entire trilogy, Michael is forced to do things he doesn't want to solely to protect what his father had created. (That Sonny's selfishness had put in danger so many times)

Yesterday was Easter Sunday. I had invited my brother and his family over for breakfast and he refused to come. He always refuses to come. He is so selfish that he takes no part in our family events unless he feels there is something in it for him. I won't tell you about the conversation we had between church and my house over the phone. Suffice it to say he must have felt bad because he did make it a point to come over with his oldest daughter to do baskets between our kids. ( I am gonna start crying as this next part is burned into my head. I do not think I will ever forget seeing it) I can't remember what all I saw, or what all happened. I am finding out though that more of what I thought was not actual reality. That is the hardest pill to swallow.

I walked by him, he fell down (not because I walked by him just really BAD timing), he hit his head, he had a seizure.He had no clue as to who any of us were or where he was or what he remembered. The ambulance came and took him away....... He got better, had had another seizure. He cant move. He is told to allow the staff at the hospital to put a nicotine patch on him, since he shouldn't get out of bed to go smoke. He refuses. He is told to stay in his bed. He gets up to go to the bathroom. He is scared to go to sleep as he has little seizures in his sleep. He gets pissy because of what is happening to him. He gets angry and yells at me and his wife as we tell him to stay in bed. His friend comes to see him. He gets out of bed and goes down stairs and has a cigarette. HE HAS BEEN THROUGH SOMETHING TRAUMATIC AND FEELS ENTITLED. He is an ass.

In the movie, the first one to die is Sonny. Because he is hot headed and doesn't listen to anyone. Hence he gets ambushed and killed MUCH before his time. I am afraid for my Sonny. He WILL be the first to die. I already miss him..........

Today Vito called Michael and told him to fix Sonny as he feels he no longer can. Michael simply replied that Sonny doesn't care so he no longer does either. Vito is left heart broken.........

The only thing I don't have that Michael had in the movie was a strong poker face. He never allowed his emotions to get the best of him......... I always do.

I got proof yet again, yesterday, that God does in fact exist. He had not been at my house 3 minutes when this all happened. Had he left his house 5 minutes later than he did, he would have gotten into a car accident. Possibly hurting himself, his daughter or someone else. He was at my house. Our father was there. He wasn't at home somewhere out in the back yard where he usually spends his time, or away from people. He was with people who took care of him right then and there. But the worst thing about all of this is while he was being treated in the emergency room, he had a second episode. He doesn't remember any of either of them. He doesn't care about the fact that we are all traumatized by the vision of someone we love going through all of that and us not being to help him. It was, and still is far worse is my head as I play it over and over again trying to figure it out, than it actually ended up being. (aside from the seizures....)

He doesn't remember any of it, so technically, he doesn't care. He will go back to doing what he does, how he does it without any consideration for those of us around here that will never forget. We will have to watch him die because he is too selfish to change.

Please don't get me wrong. He is my favorite person on the face of the earth. We are closer than white on rice. I love him very much but hate him very much at the same time.

I was hoping that in writing this, I could release it and have closure to the situation. One can only hope it works...........

Until next time (please be praying for my brother and his family)

-M

Would YOU?

I just got back from the Good Friday service at my church. Today is the MOST emotional day of the YEAR for me. I cry like a baby all through out the worship part and then spend the rest of the time wiping my eyes from the aftermath of my tears in hopes that I don't look like Alice Cooper while in church.

With today being what it is- let me ask you....... Have you ever thought about what it FELT like for Jesus to go through everything he went through? Both the emotional and physical pain he endured? How did he handle the last few weeks or days KNOWING he was about to die a terrible death? How did he survive the days leading up knowing one of his closest friends would betray him? Not to mention the flogging, beating and mocking. The ripping of his skin. The weight of the cross on the gravel road all the way up the hill to where he would be murdered. What about the feeling of the nails going through his appendages? That alone is a pain I see when I think about it, and yes, sometimes I can imagine how much it hurt.

Are you THAT obedient to your parents? Let alone to the actual will of God?

The following is a song I wrote when I was in a rock christian band in high school (actually the band existed only in my mind- it never became a reality- but I did write this at age 17). I feel it is completely pertinent to this weekend.

"I shed this blood for you" by Fortress (or rather Michelle Rossi)

Uncaringly they toss a garment across his weakened form

as his blood pressure fell deathly low, the crowd began to swarm

They forced him to carry his cross up the hill, as his face they punched and smacked

While the splinters of the criss cross beam dug deep into his back

From the lack of sleep and dehydration, his tongue began to swell

And weakened by his loss of blood, the prophet teacher fell

When he did, some blood splattered on a man named Simon Shoe

As he bent to wipe it off, the prophet looked and said

"Simon - I shed this blood for you"

**This blood can save the soul, heal the sick, mend the heart. This blood can give you access to the very throne of God. It can go the distance through the pain to where you are. This blood I shed for you, the blood of the lamb.

Violently they grabbed his arms as they tightly strapped each wrist

with the hellish looks of an army soldier-whip clinched in his fist.

Laced with chips of bone they beat him hard, from his shoulders to his feet.

It sliced right through his olive skin just like razors through a sheet.

Countless times the blood splattered as each inhumane lash was given

and several times his knees gave way as his flesh just hung like rivets

then surprisingly he turned his head though the words he used was few.

The soldiers faces all turned pale when he said "I shed this blood for you"

**This blood can save the soul, heal the sick, mend the heart. This blood can give you access to the very throne of God. It can go the distance through the pain to where you are. This blood I shed for you, the blood of the lamb.

Then they pounded spikes into his wrists bursting arteries and veins

And as they dropped the cross into the hole they dug his body convulsed with pain

Through anguish and torment that never a soul shall find

He tilted his head toward heaven and full control of his mind

With more love than any human ever heard before from that time or since

He made a statement that to this day makes the strongest skeptic wince

He cried "Father God forgive them for they know not what they do"

And he gave his life for the lost in sin he said "I give this blood for you"

**This blood can save the soul, heal the sick, mend the heart. This blood can give you access to the very throne of God. It can go the distance through the pain to where you are. This blood I shed for you, the blood of the lamb.

When your lost and alone, and your mind is confused

He shed his blood for you

When you feel you've been hurt or abused...

He shed his blood for you.

I hope you liked my song.

til next time

-M

With tears in my eyes........

With tears in my eyes........ I write this. Knowing that I could NOT write it tomorrow.

Tomorrow is Good Friday. The day Jesus Christ was crucified and killed. We always sit through our lives wondering how a God that is merciful could allow us such pain as we go through ( disease, famine, job loss, home foreclosure- whatever the case is right now) but please bear in mind that we are brought THROUGH all our strives that God brings us to. He has not left us. And for all the complaining we do, we need to step back and remember that nothing, NOTHING, we go through is as much as Jesus did on the day he was murdered. Nothing.

Although we find our own storms to be simply a source of pain, maybe we should step back and look at it differently. Maybe our tumultuous time is meant to be a calling, or a saving grace- for someone else. Maybe even someone we don't know. My mother died about 3 and a half years ago. When she did, we weren't speaking. I have to live with this every day, for the rest of my life. I am only telling you this because once I came through my own pain of her death, I can view it differently. I miss her very much, but I have found such a peace in her death that I never knew could exist. I have also found God. I am just sorry she never got to know this me.

I look at things totally differently then I did while she was alive. I can now look at things through another set of eyes in hopes that whatever I say to someone can help them. I am not simply giving advice that SOUNDS good, but that IS good. I am not a selfish person. I am not indulgent in much of anything any longer. I know that whatever my day to day brings me, my God will get me through it in the end. Just as he did his son.

Whatever you are going through, I implore you to hand it over to God. Allow him to give you a peace that you so deserve. There is nothing more glorious. He died for you.... He loves you. We don't deserve it, but it is truth.

Whatever cross your walking with this weekend, know that it will be ok. This weekend dates back to Jesus' death- and His Rising. I hope you all have a wonderful Easter. Please take from it more than colored eggs and chocolate bunnies.

til next time

-M

Seriously- a tournament?

Cornhole is a lawn game in which players take turns pitching cornhole bags—cotton duck bags filled with feed corn—at a raised platform with a hole in the far end. These platforms are usually made with plywood or occasionally plastic, and are often decorated. A corn bag in the hole scores 3 points, while one on the platform scores 1 point. Play continues until a player reaches the score of 21.

This being said my brother is all about the game. Its a great past time where he and his beer drinking buddies bet and play.

He called me Thursday afternoon and asked me if I owned a sewing machine because he needed to get new bags as he went to his shed to pull his out for the tournament Friday, but rats had eaten through the bags..... OH CRAP!

I told him I could arrange for the new ones to be filled to exactly the weight they needed to be and he could be made ready! He goes to the feed store and buys a bag of corn. He goes to Dicks sporting goods and buys new bags. He goes to Walgreen's and buys a measuring cup. He then proceeds to come here to where I have arranged a MEET between him and the seamstress to get together for this epic disaster he has laying on his shoulders.

He comes to my store and starts measuring out the corn needed to an exact kernel.

He then proceeds to let me know that my friend needs to simply have red thread and blue thread and a seam puller..........and that his competition is Friday and he needs them back asap.

Now anyone with half a brain could tell you needed red and blue thread as the bags were , well um, blue and red. AND if he wanted them opened and filled , well then yeah you sort of need a way to open them. AHH I MUST NOW INVENT SOMETHING TO OPEN SEAMS.... Oh wait, such a thing exists...........

Anyway the meets happens and my friend picks up his bean bags (its about 3 pm now) We told him we would call him when they were done........ but reassured him that he would have them in time for the tournament. He then starts getting antsy telling us we may need to come up with game plan #2...... why was it gonna take so long blah blah freaking BLAH!!!!

I get a phone call from Steve at 5:32 that night "Are they done?"

"Um, no Steve. I will call you once I hear from Robyn." and we hang up. Not two minutes later I get a call from Robyn "Um, about these bags....." she says. "The one that had a hole in it I tried to fix. But it didn't look good so I re opened the bag and was gonna do a sew on inside of it. When I put the iron on the material (that he had told her was a cotton) it shrunk. I have to go to the material store to get new material for him."

She did. She got what she needed and made these bags miraculously for him so very quickly. She then calls me at maybe 7pm and told me his bags were ready. I called him and had him go get them from her.

I spoke to him this morning....... He got them, used them for practice and have already broken one...... ALL THAT and now he still doesn't have good and proper bags to play with. MEN!

My moral to this cornhole of a story is- If you know you have something to do, don't wait til the last minute to check your stuff out that you need for it. Shit happened- ALL THE TIME. There is no proper balance to this universe...... you need to prepare rather than wait. Before hand. GRRRRRRRR

So, Steve, for tonites tournament of CORNHOLE- this buds for you.

til next time

XO XO

-m

I want to meet this guy....

This is really a cute story. If you like this sort of thing. I pass a car wash to get to work. One day I noticed that out in front of the building, by where the vacuum and air hoses are, there was this little old man polishing his bicycle. I giggled about it then and it makes me smile every time I pass this place as he is there EVERY morning. He takes his bike ride for either something to do, or for some doctor recommended exercise- either way he is at the car wash EVERY morning by 8 a.m.

He takes such good care of this bike too..... I can't see any specific bags in his basket to tell me what he is off to do or where he has been before. I do look to see if I can. What is funny though, is that this just started about 2 weeks ago as I have passed this placed quite a few times a day every day for the last 3 years and have never noticed him before.

It takes me back to a time when I was a little girl. My family and I used to visit my grandparents who lived the next town over from us every Sunday. We would spend ALL day there and for a 10 year old , it became quite monotonous and mundane. My grandfathers girlfriend had allowed me to dig out her old beach bike from the shed to ride around while I was there on Sundays. I did.

The first time I dug it out, it was such an ordeal. It was way in the back and covered in all sorts of stuff. Once I got it out I wasn't even sure it was really a bike. It was so bent up and rusty. I brought my father out to inspect it and advise me as to what all I needed ti make it an actual specimen of a bike. I learned a lot that summer. I took the wheels off and propped this bike upside down and went to work on it. I removed the chain that was all rusty, sanded down the base of the bike, de-oxidised the chrome, re painted what I had sanded down. I got a new seat to replace the one that was previously on it and a pretty basket for the front.

It took me 2 months of Sundays to fix it up to where I could ride it. And did I ever do so. I rode that bike all over the neighborhood. Up to the park and back with my brother. All over the place. I could get on that bike for HOURS and simply enjoy the la la la's in my head and the same old houses I had looked at over and over again. It didn't matter as this was my way to escape into my own little world for a while. And I MADE IT. All by myself....... WHAT needed to be done was supervised by my father but the actual chore of making this bike ready to ride was all me...........

I enjoy seeing that little old guy and his bike every morning. Maybe one day I will bring him a cup of coffee and go talk to him.

We shall see..................................

Til next time

XO XO

-M