DOWNSIZING

What does it mean to downsize? In Jerry’s and my case it means to leave our beautiful, memory filled four bedroom home of the last thirty- five years and move to a two bedroom , two bath apartment in the city of Falls Church where we will be near two of our five children and their amazing families. This has been for us a home of weddings, births of grandchildren, entertaining extended family and friends, being active in our community, and participating in our parish church.

Church is very important to us and for the first few years after moving here we tried various local parishes never quite feeling like we had found our new spiritual home. We even checked in with the diocesan office to see what geographically they were recommending be our parish church. This turned out to be a very conservative church which was okay but not very inspiring. Finally one of our neighbors asked if we had visited St. John Neumann in Reston. We felt instantly at home. This is a church which practices and truly lives up to the concept: ” All are welcome.” We will miss St. John Neumann when we move. We are grateful for the services and activities we have participated in, for the friends we have made. We appreciate the assurance of one of our parish priests who promises he will find his way to Falls Church to maintain our friendship.

Our present house is only a five minute drive from International Country Club which we have belonged to for the last thirty-five years and where we have spent many happy and sometimes frustrating hours honing our golf skills. Golf is a sport that both Jerry and I enjoy and we are fortunate that as we approach our nineties we are still able to play. We only play nine holes at a time now but do play two to three times a week. When we move to Falls Church we will give up our club membership and play at a very convenient public course-Jefferson Park . In an unusual twist Jefferson Park was the original International Country Club. In the late 1960’s Fairfax County bought the Falls Church International Country Club from its members in exchange for the Fairfax County land the present club resides on plus a considerable sum of money. It was a very good deal for the club and for Fairfax County. Jefferson Park which is a well used public course is only a short drive from our new apartment home.

These past few weeks have been full of emotional happenings. We will be moving into our new abode – back to apartment living – on May 10. When we were first married we lived in an apartment in Arlington, Virginia. It allowed me to continue my job as a public health nurse for Arlington County. I loved my job but when I got pregnant and had some days in those first three months when I really wasn’t feeling well, Jerry suggested I step back from work and we move to Maryland. He was working at the Patent Office during the day and going to Catholic University’s law school four nights a week. Living in Maryland, in the Bethesda area, would be much more convenient for him as he juggled work and night law school. And so when our lease was up we found the perfect apartment in Bethesda. Part of the charm of this location was that my brother Pete and his wife Louise were in an apartment building right across the street from where we settled. It was so much fun having them close by.

Our first born, Jerry – named after his father – was born in the Bethesda apartment. When that lease was up we bought our first home, a small three bedroom rambler, in Kensington, Maryland . In the next four years this home was the birthplace of Maura, Joe , Jim and Meg. It was a wonderful house but as the children got bigger, the house got smaller. We started looking for a bigger home and when Meg was about two we bought a new and bigger home in Upper Marlboro, Maryland. It was the home from where the children attended grade school, high school and college.

And then we moved to Virginia to our present home where as I said in starting this blog , we have lived for the past thirty -five . years. It was much more convenient to Jerry’s office. It will be hard to leave this house of such powerful memories but as we approach our nineties, it is time. We are excited to be in Falls Church where two of our married children live . We will be walking distance to the library, to the Community Center, and the Senior Center which offer a number of activities, to a lovely park, to a very fun Farmers’ Market, to some yummy restaurants. And the list goes on.

As we prepare for the big move, Jerry and I like reflecting on the words of an unknown sage, ” You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.”

CHRISTMAS TIME 2024

A picture of my brother Bud. We miss him!!!

Have always loved this season of the year – both the religious aspects and the Santa Clause influen

The religious aspects were dominant in my home in my growing years . My mother was a firm believer in special Advent prayers to honor the birth of Jesus and that religious belief helped to put the right focus on this special holy/holiday time. We shared Christmas dinner with either my father’s family or my mother’s. My parents strove to make the religious aspects of Christmas dominant.

As the youngest in the fanily I was the last to lose my belief in Santa Clause. My parents used to take us to Gertz Department store in Jamaica, Long Island, for our annual visit with Santa. I remember my final visit – guess I was around ten years of age and my Santa belief was a little shaky but I wanted to go. Since my brothers were telling me that Santa was just a nice story but not real – they were not allowed into the store’s North Pole village . They stood behind the fence surrounding the village. And when it became time for me to sit on Santa’s lap my brothers moved to a spot behind the fence where they could hear my conversation with Santa. When he asked me what I wanted for Christmas they started calling out things they wanted. I got an attack of the giggles. Santa was very kind but it was my last childhood visit with him. My Santa belief was gone.

In my student nurse days at Cornell I remember well the first Christmas that I had to work in the hospital. I so loved this time of yeaI could not imagine missing my family celebration. Well, much to my surprise, it turned out to be a very special celebration. It was a gift to care for those who were hospitalized – especially those who had no one to visit with them.

For many of our married years my brother Pete and his wife Louise and Jerry and I joined together to celebrate this special time. We took turns traveling to Long Island. It was a blessing when my parents in their retirement years moved to Maryland to be nearer to us and to Pete and Louise. And since Jerry was an only child we were always blessed in being able to share the holidays with his parents.

When he returned from his missionary years in Chile, my priestly brother Bud, also known as Uncle Bud or Father Joe, resumed his place as an important part of our family lives. Whether he was teaching at Gonzaga High School or running a retreat house in Virginia he always found time for his family. A special gift from Bud was the many home masses that he said for us. I particularly found his Christmas masses very powerful. When our family and Pete and Louise’s family and our parents all gathered together for a Christmas home mass I ceased to wonder if we were doing an effective job of focusing on the true meaning of Christmas. As I said in a previous blog, in 2022, Bud holds a special place in all our lives. We miss him.

Our children – our five and Pete and Lou’s four – have always been close – which is very special. We kept up the tradition to gather for Christmas with them for many years. Sometimes – with a little parental help – the children would put on a Nativity pageant which added the right emphasis for our gatherings. When we no longer had a child young enough to represent Baby Jesus the gatherings morphed into Christmas sing-a-longs. These were such happy gatherings but as the children got older, our sing-a-long participants increased to forty plus attendees. But when Covid struck we had to bring the sing-a-longs to a close.

This year we are hosting two special gatherings at our home. We will have about twenty seven of our nuclear family for Christmas dinner. It might sound like an intimidating number but everyone pitches in. Atar has sent out the signup sheet for what folks want to bring for dinner and the sheet is filling up nicely. Three days later we are hosting a party honoring the marriage of Amy and Jeremy. We are very blessed and we know it.

MY GOLF ADDICTION

International Country Club

Don’t know how old I was – maybe 6 or 7 – when I first learned that the strange brown bag in our home basement which housed somethings called golf clubs actually belonged to my Mom and Dad. Golf was a foreign language to me so I was amazed when I found out it was a sport that my parents had occasionally indulged in during their dating years. To the best of my knowledge my parents never golfed again once they married and had children. I think the reason was, in those post depression years of the 1930’s, a combination of the time involved, the cost, and parenting a young family.

Fast forward thirty plus years to when Jerry and I were starting our family. Birthing five children in six and three quarter years did not leave much opportunity for a time consuming sport like golf. As the children moved beyond the baby stage Jerry would occasionally play with friends and sometimes I would too. But for me it was the fun of doing an outside activity with my husband rather than any attraction I felt for golf. Golf courses are usually in settings which show case the beauty of nature. Little did I realize that the seeds of my golf addiction were starting to take root.

Now fast forward to the 1980’s – we were empty nesters – except when the children were home from college. Our five children all started and completed undergraduate school in the decade of the 80’s. I branched out a little in my golf, not only playing with Jerry but also joining a women’s group at our local golf club. It was strictly a social activity for me – I wanted to play with Jerry and I wanted to play with friends. The fact that I shot in the 70’s and 80’s for nine holes didn’t bother me a bit. It was a delightful social time and also I don’t think I realized how bad my golf scores really were.

Now fast forward again -this time to the 1990’s. We had moved to Century Oak , a new community being built in Fairfax, in Northern Virginia. Somewhere in this time period I began to start caring about my golf scores and just my game in general. We joined a near by country club, International CC. And I joined their 18 hole Ladies Group. And I took golf lessons. And my game improved. The scores I used to have for 9 holes of golf were now the scores I wanted when playing 18 holes. I have never quite reached that goal, my best for 18, so far, being 102 on a challenging course like International.

Now in our late 80’s we basically play two times per week and sometimes three, and we specialize in 9 hole golf. A bit of arthritis dictates the amount of golf we can play. It is a special treat when we play today with our children and/or our grandchildren. And there are so many happy memories of golfing with my brothers Bud and Pete, and with dear old friends and with my precious goddaughter, Margaret.

Most golf courses show off the beauty of nature and ours is no exception. So even if your golf game is misbehaving it is so enjoyable to just soak in the beauty of the course. In these political times I can well relate to the words of Billy Graham about golf: “A golf course is an island of peace in a world often full of confusion and turmoil.”

” IF IT IS TUESDAY IT MUST BE BELGIUM” AND WHEN PLANS GET INTERRUPTED

*TRIP HIGHLI*GHT – AUDIENCE WITH POPE JOHN XXIII

This post started out as a continuation of the previous one giving more details of my trip to Europe with nine friends in 1959. We were part of a preplanned tour that offered a number of options. There was the option to start off the tour by flying to Europe, but knowing how busy we were going to be with the end of our senior year at Cornell’s nursing school, plus the marriage of two close friends, plus prepping for and taking the RN exam – all before we left – we felt travel by ship would provide the rest we needed as we prepared ourselves to conquer Western Europe.

My writing plans got side tracked when I made an unexpected trip to the emergency room of our local hospital. That was two Saturdays ago. I spent that night and most of Sunday in the hospital. It was an attack of atrial fibrillation. Some folks when they get Afib don’t even know they have it and it is only in making a doctor visit for some other reason that it is discovered. I fall into the group that knows immediately that something is wrong and an emergency room visit is imperative. This was my second attack – the first was six months ago. It followed an amazing and very special five day visit in New York with our son Jerry , his wife Teresa, granddaughter Lilly , and other wonderful friends and family members. This most recent attack also came on without warning, when I was feeling great.

The unexpectedness of both these attacks was a reminder to appreciate the uniqueness and gifts of each day. Who knows what is around the corner? Reflect on the past – but don’t dwell on the past; enjoy the present, ; and plan with curiosity and hope for the future – being well aware that future plans may be rudely interrupted.

The trip to Europe was a blast. But maybe in retrospect a bit much following our very demanding senior year at Cornell. Perhaps we all would have been better off just going to the beach and vegging out and catching up on missed sleep. I say that now , some sixty one years later, but I don’t think anyone could have convinced us to do differently back then. We thought the world was ours to embrace and meet head on.

It was an amazing trip, and since it was a tour, we didn’t have to worry about making arrangements. I can’t remember now how many countries we covered – I think it was nine but it may have been eleven. A jam packed travel itinerary was very popular back then, hence the saying, ” If it is Tuesday it must be Belgium.” Sometimes we moved so quickly between countries it was a bit hard to be sure what country we were in. Two of the countries we visited were San Marino and Monaco. Small countries – I am not sure that we spent a whole day in each but when the tour company was promoting its itinerary, it included all the countries whose borders we crossed. The number of countries visited was supposedly a big selling point. We were the youngest members of the tour and though we socialized with everyone, we were our own self contained group.

Though some of the trip with the passage of time has become a blur – two countries stand out – France and Italy. I loved Rome, and its surroundings, and its history for the ages. And with my Catholic roots there was so much to draw me in. John XXIII was Pope at that time and as part of the tour we got to have an audience with him. – along with several hundred other tourists. Since it was summer time the Pope was at his summer residence, Castle Gandolfo in a town of the same name about 16 miles from Rome located on the Alban Hills overlooking Lake Albano . I remember it as a beautiful area. We were ushered into the papal residence to a reception hall which easily fit the excited tourists. No one was more excited than me. I truly felt that John XXIII was God’s representative on earth. I hoped that I could get close enough to him. l need not have worried. There was a roped off pathway through the hall. Shortly the Pope arrived and traversed this pathway. I think I was no more that five feet from him as he slowly walked by blessing and smiling at the assembled throng. It was for me a very powerful spiritual moment.

Our time in Paris is another potent memory. The Cathedral of Notre Dame, the Louvre, the Follies Bergere, shopping, etc. These all were very memorable. But my sweetest Paris memory is of a cablegram that I got from my parents. Though we all strove to forget the RN exam we had taken prior to starting on our European adventure, as it got closer to the time for results to come out, we had a hard time totally banishing exam thoughts from our minds. We all felt pretty good about the exam but there was the added pressure that Cornell grads had a history of acing the exam and we didn’t want to change that trajectory. Once we checked into to our Parisian hotel there was a little wait as our rooms became available. To pass the time I was walking around with a friend checking out the lobby. Suddenly I heard a bellboy calling out my name – saying there was a cablegram for me. My parents had followed our trip by the itinerary and maps but they had made no attempt to contact me. It was from them. I was concerned there was something wrong. And then I realized the cablegram was addressed to Margaret McCloskey RN. That was my Dad’s touch. It was so special to get my RN exam results in that way.

These past days of doctor visits, hospital visits, blood tests and golf playing have gone by quickly. And they have put an emphasis on my spiritual life. I have been thinking of those moments when I have truly felt God’s presence. One of those powerful times, as I have said, was the audience with John XXIII in 1959. In reflecting on this blog I find the following John XXIII quote to be very meaningful, ” If God created shadows it was to better emphasize the light.”