All posts by Teri

Happily Even After

As a wordsmith, I know that one word can change a life or a sentence.

One word. That’s all it takes.

In this case, it took two:

EVEN and EVER.

It all started this past Sunday afternoon while hosting my daughter’s BRIDAL SHOWER.

The day had challenges, but I think it turned out okay, EVEN though the food was COLD,

which was a crying shame because it was yummy.

Just iced-COLD.

But I stayed calm. I didn’t yell or carry on. I stayed positive because it was my daughter’s special day.

Also, my favorite cake was being served: ITALIAN RUM CAKE with vanilla and chocolate pudding, extra Rum flavoring, “dressed” with snow-white whipped cream. (The BAKER used the word “dressed,” and as soon as I heard it, I vowed never to use the word “topped” again.)

When I ordered the cake, I asked the BAKER to adorn it with the couple’s engagement photo and then, underneath the image, to write the words:

HAPPILY EVER AFTER

It’s too long of a story to tell here, but I’ll tell it anyway. When I went to pick up the cake, the BAKER was surrounded by many—too many—undressed cakes, mine included…

I waited patiently for the BAKER to finish “dressing” my cake, and when he shouted twice that I was making him nervous, I twice skulked to my car to while away my precious time.

And because he was late, I was late. So, when the BAKER nervously presented the ITALIAN RUM CAKE to me, camouflaged by a glass display of Italian pastries, I said, “It looks fine,” EVEN though I couldn’t see it.

I’m not making excuses here. I’m just saying.

At the BRIDAL SHOWER, everyone enjoyed introductions, music, and mingling, and seeing my daughter so happy was pure JOY.

JOY.

That’s not a word you’ll hear coming out of my mouth very often.

Okay, not EVER.

But I’ll say it loud and proud. I was experiencing JOY.

And the BRIDAL SHOWER was going better than EVER.

Games were played, prizes were won, and then the COLD food came out.

The PARTY POINT PERSON tried to heat up that COLD food with chafing dish candles, but the air conditioner vent kept blowing out the flames.

Four employees, including the bartender, hovered around the food, investigating the situation, but to no avail; we all ate COLD food.

And because the food was COLD, the PARTY POINT PERSON said she felt bad and would put out more food. I told the PARTY POINT PERSON it wasn’t necessary to put out more food because everyone was full.

And everyone was full because they had already eaten,

COLD food.

I also told the PARTY POINT PERSON that if she were to put out more food, she might want to move the buffet server station away from the air conditioner vent duh. (I didn’t say, “duh,” because of the JOY thing, but I thought it.)

The PARTY POINT PERSON took my station relocation suggestion to heart because she immediately moved the buffet servers to another wall and then put out more food,

which was also COLD.

At that point, I was still determined to fill myself up with JOY, so I feigned serenity and was now totally and utterly dependent upon the ITALIAN RUM CAKE being the best ITALIAN RUM CAKE it could be to make up for the COLD food.

The almost-groom arrived at the BRIDAL SHOWER with a stunning bouquet at 3 pm, and the cake-cutting/photo op was scheduled for 3:30.

When the PARTY POINT PERSON brought out the cake, my daughter and I were aghast at the inscription:

HAPPILY EVEN AFTER

My daughter thought it was hilarious while I stared in horror.

My doctor friend, who was in attendance, promptly grabbed a knife and meticulously performed surgery on the N, turning it into a near-perfect R.

Well, not an R…an r.

!!! Thanks to Dr. Andrea, the ITALIAN RUM CAKE now said:

HAPPILY EVER AFTER

And EVEN though we righted the BAKER’S wrong, the original inscription on the ITALIAN RUM CAKE was a ginormous hit.

It was such a hit that the BRIDAL SHOWER guests took more photos of the botched cake message of:

HAPPILY EVEN AFTER

than photos taken of the soon-to-be-married couple cutting the surgically amended version:

HAPPILY EVER AFTER

!!!

Once the EVEN was punctiliously changed to EVER, the ITALIAN RUM CAKE was couple-cut and served.

FROZEN.

So FROZEN that it was difficult to cut.

And also, I almost broke a tooth on a hard candy pearl that the BAKER had strewn all over the “dressing” of the cake. Those suckers were lethal. That ITALIAN RUM CAKE should have come with a warning:

HAPPILY EVEN AFTER you break a tooth on the hard candy pearls.

Needless to say, there was a lot of ITALIAN RUM CAKE left, so I took it home. And once it thawed, it was fabulously delicious.

Despite the COLD food and the FROZEN ITALIAN RUM CAKE, I think the BRIDAL SHOWER was a success.

But I still haven’t been able to get that darn inscription

HAPPILY EVEN AFTER

out of my head.

I might EVEN like it better than “dressing.”

My Stolen Diaries — Chapter 32: From Rags to Riches

CHAPTER 32

FROM RAGS TO RICHES

June 21, 1967

I graduated from eighth grade today. And on Saturday, Mom’s getting married.

With Mere Germaine gone, Mem is surviving but barely thriving. For whatever reason, the three of us don’t mention her at all. It’s like she never existed. I think we’re all afraid to upset each other, so we keep our treasured feelings and memories of Mere Germaine to ourselves.

Leaving my Bridgeport friends is going to be impossible. I have no idea what another school will be like or if the Westport kids will accept me, and honestly, I’m terrified.

I take for granted that I’m among the most popular girls in school, and according to Chris, I’m the prettiest. Speaking of Chris, he’s still dating Juliette, so we both agreed that we would settle for being close friends, although it’s doubtful that I will ever see him again.

Chris invited me to his after-graduation pool party, but while everyone else was dancing and carrying-on, all I could think about was moving to Westport. Chris played songs like “Let’s Live for Today” and “Seven Rooms of Gloom.” It seemed like every song he played was meant for me. Even though our house in Westport has more than seven rooms, knowing me, I’ll feel gloomy no matter what, at least in the beginning.

We all jumped into Chris’s above-ground and leaking pool, which was too small for even half of us to fit into, so we were squeezed together in the waist-deep water like a bunch of packed sardines. When the song “San Francisco” by Scott McKenzie started to play, I got teary-eyed and shoved my way out of the crammed pool to sit alone, feeling sorry for myself.

I dried off and walked home, thinking about how once Mom and Rob returned from their honeymoon, we’d be moving into his “colonial-revival-style home,” whatever that means. And according to Mom, we’ll be rich. A fancy town, a grandiose house, lots of money—everything Mom always dreamed about, but not me.

Although I’ve spent my entire life sleeping in the same bed as Mem, having a gigantic bedroom to myself can never make up for the fact that I’m leaving behind everything and everyone I love. I won’t be that far, but Mom will never allow me to invite my Bridgeport friends to Westport. And she has made it abundantly clear to Mem that I’m forbidden to return to Bridgeport ever again.

Leaving Mem will be impossible, because I have never lived without her. And once we’re gone, she’ll be left all alone. As someone who grew up coming home to an empty apartment, I know firsthand how lonely this will be for Mem, especially now that Mere Germaine is gone.

I keep going back and forth, trying to figure out how to get out of this Westport move, but it’s a useless exercise. Mom keeps promising me that I’ll make new friends, but I’m not so sure about that.

She thinks our going from rags to riches will make everything perfect, but she doesn’t know anything about me or what makes me happy. Or maybe she knows but doesn’t care.

I’m not looking forward to leaving Bridgeport, but I’ll admit, I am looking forward to being rich, mostly because I’m sick and tired of being poor.

Last night, I prayed that we would be one big happy family once we moved to Westport. That’s what Mom and Rob keep promising me. We’ll also be a family with lots of money, so maybe Mom and Rob are right, and everything will turn out how they expect it to.

I’ll be the female version of Richie Rich, and Mom will play the part of his mother, Regina—but a skinnier, prettier version. Rob can play the part of his father, Richard, but I only care about Mom and me. I sure hope Rob turns out to be a better husband and father than he was a boyfriend.

Stay tuned for Chapter 33: The Westport Wedding

Ancient Garden Discovered Next to Jesus’ Tomb

Yesterday, I read a fascinating article about the landmark excavation of an ancient garden discovered under the floor of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem.

The garden is situated between where Jesus was crucified and his tomb, and described in the Gospel of John, reminding me of why both holidays—Passover and Easter—are inexorably entwined in biblical history.

Millions worldwide will soon gather with their friends and families to celebrate Passover and Easter, and they have much more in common than the Last Supper: Both holidays are about the dead rising to new life.

The two hallowed religious holidays are a time of reflection, sorrow, freedom, renewal, and redemption, and are both considered a time for cleansing.

Passover and Easter commemorate life-altering religious events but also represent victory over death and freedom—freedom from Egyptian slavery in Passover and freedom from original sin in Easter.

The seasonal overlap between Passover and Easter is no accident, and they are forever and intimately linked. Until the fourth century, Easter’s date was based on the Jewish calendar and the date of Passover. However, in 325 CE, church leaders decided to create a way to date Easter independent of Jewish influence.

Moses is considered the miracle-working leader chosen by God to free the Israelites from Egyptian slavery. Jesus is considered the miracle-working son of God, chosen to save his followers from spiritual slavery.

Recent archaeological excavations under the Church of the Holy Sepulchre floor in the Christian Quarter of the Old City of Jerusalem revealed the 2,000-year-old garden that mirrors the description of the area between the site of Jesus’ crucifixion and his tomb in the Gospel of John.

John 19:19-20:

“Now in the place where he was crucified there was a garden; and in the garden a new sepulcher, wherein was never man yet laid. There laid they Jesus.”

According to Christian belief, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre sits on the spot where Jesus was crucified (known as Calvary) and on his tomb, also named the Holy Sepulchre.

The three religious communities that manage the church, the Orthodox Patriarchate, the Armenian Patriarchate, and the Custody of the Holy Land, were replacing the building’s floor when they uncovered the unprecedented historical discovery.

Even before the erection of the church, the land had a long and storied history. At the time of Jesus, it was a quarry with a dual purpose as a burial site.

Around 313 CE, approximately 285 years after Jesus’ crucifixion, Constantine the Great, the first emperor to convert to Christianity, tore down the pagan temple to Venus to determine if beneath it was indeed the venerated and rumored location of Jesus’ tomb. When the limestone cave was discovered, Constantine deemed it the Holy Sepulchre of Jesus. He excavated around the tomb in the area that now constitutes the current church rotunda.

He also discovered several other tombs, including one for Joseph Arimathea, who assumed responsibility for the body, preparation, and burial of Jesus.

According to Matthew 27:57-60, Joseph asked Pontius Pilate for Jesus’ body to ensure he wouldn’t be left on the cross overnight, which was prohibited under ancient Jewish law.

When Pontius Pilate agreed, Jesus was buried in an unused man-made cave belonging to Joseph, who had prepared and intended it as a tomb for himself.

Matthew 27:57-60

 “Now when evening had come, there came a rich man from Arimathea named Joseph, who himself had also become a disciple of Jesus.  This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then Pilate commanded the body to be given to him.  When Joseph had taken the body, he wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, and laid it in his new tomb which he had hewn out of the rock; and he rolled a large stone against the door of the tomb, and departed.”

Once Jesus’ tomb was excavated, Constantine ordered the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which is now considered the holiest place in all of Christendom, to be built upon it. Around the same time that the church was under construction, Constantine abolished crucifixion and declared Sunday (the day of Jesus’ resurrection) an official day of rest, closing down markets and public offices.

Since its erection in the fourth century, the church has endured hundreds of years of destruction and restoration. The Persians set the church on fire in the seventh century, and it was attacked again by Caliph al-Hakim, a Shia Arab Muslim, in 1009. In the twelfth century, under Crusader rule, the church underwent significant restoration. The Crusaders, primarily Western European Christians, rebuilt the church after conquering Jerusalem in 1099, giving the building its current appearance.

The archeological excavation team has uncovered a treasure trove of thousands of artifacts dating back to the fourth century, including part of the original structure built by Constantine, coins minted under Constantine (337-361 CE), and coins minted under Valens, the Roman emperor from 364-378 CE.

Easter and Passover, like Christianity and Judaism, are forever linked by a history that began in ancient Jerusalem.

The history of the spot where the Church of the Holy Sepulchre stands is tantamount to the importance and religious significance of not only the history of Jerusalem and the ancient Jews but also the history of Jesus’ final hours—from his crucifixion to his burial to his ascension.

Kintsugi: The Art of Repair


NOTE: [For those of you who know me, in addition to writing and blogging, I love working on DIY projects. A friend recently suggested that when I blog about them, I include links to the various materials I use, which is why I included Amazon links in my post below.]   

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I forgot to put away my favorite pair of Grecian Goddess planters this winter. And with the snow and cold, Goddess Number One was damaged beyond repair and had to be thrown away.

Although cracked in several places, Goddess Number Two looked like she had a fixable chance. And anyway, I was up for the challenge of fixing something other than myself.

As I photographed her in all her brokenness, I was reminded of the Japanese art of Kintsugi, where broken pottery is repaired with lacquer mixed with a powder of precious metals like gold, silver, or platinum.

What I like best about Kintsugi is that there is no attempt to hide the damage—instead, the disfigurement is highlighted and illuminated, thus embracing the flawed and imperfect.

The repair concept is that damage, breaks, knocks, and shattering—to which all things are susceptible—are fixable if we give them the time and energy they deserve. Highlighting the cracks and repairs becomes part of the object’s life and story despite its broken and damaged state.

The process of Kintsugi ultimately creates an even more exquisite piece of art than before it broke.

As I prepared my Goddess planter for repair, I decided to name her μόνος (monos), which means “only” or “alone” in Greek.

 With no lacquer or precious metals on hand, I mixed E6000 craft adhesive glue with some silver oil paint and began carefully mending Monos one crack at a time.

Some cracks required pouring a boatload of the adhesive mixture into gaping, precariously-close-to-crumbling crevices, while others were hairline and barely visible.

From my experience with Goddess Number One, I knew the unsuspecting hairline cracks were responsible for her disintegrating demise. So, I took great care in repairing Monos, addressing as many of her flawed issues as possible.

Midway through the process, I realized I should have used the smallest in my paintbrush set. Had I done so, Monos would have been way prettier.

As a perfectionist, I thought: Urgh. I messed up Monos using the wrong brush, and now I’ve ruined my chance at fixing/beautifying her. Should I toss her out like the other one?

I attempted to toss her out twice. And in the process of moving her around, even more of her face crumbled off, making my repair more difficult than if I had just left her sitting there untouched.

In the end, I decided to keep her. Who am I to be the judge or jury of  beauty? Plus, I reminded myself that fixing doesn’t always result in a beautiful outcome.