The Complicated Relationship of Love

What is Love?

What is Love? In an ideal world, we are supposed to deeply love one another. In fact the word “Sisterhood” has become an action verb in our society, signifying loving relationships closely bonded in love, even without a blood connection. Romantic movies and favorite novels paint pictures of perfection, making us feel inadequate if we have a sibling, parent, or spouse relationship with a less than perfect scenario.

“Love” and “Hate” are intimately linked within the human brain. Although they appear to be polar opposites, scientists studying the physical nature of hate have found that some of the nervous circuits in the brain responsible for it, are the same as those that are used during the feeling of romantic love. These two seemingly opposite four letter words have been responsible for wars fought and relationships gained and severed. The complicated relationship of Love and Hate has been consistently explored in literature and cinema throughout history.

Hate is often considered to be an evil passion that should, in a better world, be tamed, controlled and eradicated. The truth is, relationships are complicated—often with shades of Love and Hate that can directly influence our self esteem—“Who we are,” and “What we become.” According to psychologist, Vicki Stark, author of “My Sister, My Self,” this is especially true of sister relationships.

Sister Relationships

Stark says “Your childhood relationship with your sister or sisters greatly influences your identity as an adult … The quality of that childhood sister relationship is a powerful determining force in your self-esteem. Sister relationships are somewhat like computers. When they work, nothing can bring you more pleasure and make you feel more competent. When they don't, nothing can make you more miserable.”

The lyrics from the 1996 song, “No Matter What,” popularized by the group Boyzone, remind us of the influence those we love and grow up with have on our psychological development. “No matter what they tell us, No matter what they do, No matter what they teach us, What we believe is true.”

As adults, the feelings of Love and Hate formed in the nursery of our lives can still evoke powerful feelings within us. Close sister relationships can arouse feeling of intense emotion that can “push our buttons” as we alternately find one another heavy burdens to bear, as well as treasured gifts from God.

If we are fortunate enough to have a “bonded” sister relationship, our lives can be blessed in a unique way. Bonded sister relationships are desirable because bonded sisters are loved for themselves—just the way they are. There is great satisfaction that comes with being totally accepted for who you are. Stark says that bonded sisters “have so much fun.” They enjoy hanging out together—just being in the same room. And there is a laughter factor—they love to laugh!

Stark further explains that, “The effect of the sister stamp in relationships even crosses generations. At times, it is at the root of mother-daughter conflict … Older sisters, who were given a lot of praise and status in the surrogate mother role growing up, tend to find raising their own children a pleasure. Those who were burdened with too much responsibility and not given adequate support by their parents when they were kids sometimes experience parenting as an unwelcome chore. … Mothers who have trouble controlling their little girls are often women who didn't have very much power in their own childhood families.”

You might find yourself asking, “How can we come from the same family and see the world so differently?” We don’t always share the same political, religious, or moral values as our siblings. Yet often in our society we are expected to agree because of the bond of blood we share. Adult older siblings may feel burdened with their childhood roles where they were expected to set an example, protect and care for their younger siblings—especially when their need for “control” is still very much front and center in their lives. Their younger siblings have grown up and no longer wish to be bullied and manipulated into submission, desiring to have an equal say in family discussions. Younger siblings may also experience hurtful feelings when their opinions are dismissed and ignored as if they were invisible.

Unfortunately, it is difficult for siblings to “agree to disagree,” especially when our siblings behavior hurts our feelings or our pride. So we tend to either respond in anger or to completely withdraw rather than talking about the true source of conflict. The lack of communication then causes of general lack of trust, evoking a vicious cycle that is difficult to navigate.

Sometimes real-life events, beyond the control of parents or children, may stress and destabilize families, sometimes resulting in conflict between sisters (a death in the family, aging parents, or Illness—physical or mental.) According to Vicki Stark, the sibling bond is often strongly influenced by these situations. “Either the kids band together into a tight, cohesive team or they scatter to the winds, each one trying desperately to protect him or herself. … Sisters know which buttons to push to make the other feel guilty. The button-pusher tries to control the relationship by making her sister feel guilty.”

Like in countries at war, we never know when the war of the family will erupt, as life’s twists and turns often unearth buried hostilities. The death of a brother or sister can be a terrible shock to the family unit, causing a meridian of negative feelings—guilt for time not spent, blame for how they died, and even unresolved feelings of childhood jealousy. However, the death of a sibling can also bring families closer together and strengthen their bonds of love. With our siblings we can express our sorrow, anger, and guilt—freely. Our childhood stories and memories are treasured—comforting us with laughter and healing. Our tears are accepted by those who’ve shared our lives and by sharing—our pain is diminished.

Going Into the Forest

In the Hindu religion it is said that there is a time when people of a certain age “go into the forest.” Having accomplished their life goals of marriage, children and work, they enter a time when new choices are available. As they enter this new forest of life they may decide to reconnect with people lost and to distance themselves from others. However, the first and foremost question on their mind upon entering the forest is, “Who am I?”

As we each enter our own forest of tranquility and renewal, will we be carriers of grief and rage, jealousy, pride, or guilt. It has been suggested that there are parts of the forest where we may leave these feelings. There is also a place in the forest where we may find those who we’ve hurt, or who might have hurt us in the past. The forest becomes a place where we can sit a while and ponder, watching the leaves move in the wind, as we drink a bit from the rushing stream.

Author, Jane Isay, in her book, “Mom Still Likes You Best,” sums up our individual experiences in the forest with the following words of encouragement. “We can all eventually resolve the childhood emotions that families evoke in times of stress … As we leave this place [our forest], we may, if we are very lucky, find what we have been looking for: our better selves, the part of us that can love and forgive, play and dance, mourn and cry, and look up to the heavens with joy!” She further explains, “Nothing worthwhile is easy … and nothing difficult is accomplished to perfection.”

Vicki Stark concludes “It is possible to soften the sister influence, as well as celebrate it!” We can take charge of the hidden dynamics that have shaped our lives!

Finding Forgiveness

Much has been written about healing our relationships through love and forgiveness. Forgiveness is an essential part in finding the light of life. It helps us release the subconscious blocks that hold us back from experiencing the life we were intended to live and enjoy. However, one of the best definitions of forgiveness I’ve heard teaches us that real “Forgiveness” is “Giving up the hope that the past could have been any different.” You let go of that hope, the wish, that you’d had a different parent, sister, or spouse … You let that go, so you can move forward with the grace God has given you.

Three Parts to a Proper Apology



“If you’ve done something wrong in your dealings with another person, it’s as if there’s an infection in your relationship. A good apology is like an antibiotic; a bad apology is like rubbing salt in the wound … Proper apologies have three parts: 1) What I did was wrong. 2) I feel badly that I hurt you. 3) How do I make this better?” ~ Randy Pausch, The Last Lecture

Exercise Your Wrinkles Away!

Calling All Women! Add this to your growing collection of New Year exercise routines. My daughter, Ashley, sent this hilarious video to me. Forget about plastic surgery … Exercise your facial wrinkles away!

The thing that makes this video so funny is not that she is in full workout color coordinated clothing (although that’s funny too), but the real humor is … this is a bonafide, tried and true facial exercise!! Go ahead and try it. You know you want to. It’s funnier if you try it with a friend or watch yourself in the mirror. Bet ya can’t help laughing!

Life Lessons for a New Year!

New Beginnings!

“Ring the bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in.” ~ Anthem Lyrics by Leonard Cohen

These inspirational lyrics by folksinger, songwriter, and poet, Leonard Cohen, in his 1967 song “Anthem,” are a nostalgic reminder that each New Year brings new opportunities and possibilities.

“The birds they sang at the break of day … Start again I heard them say. Don't dwell on what has passed away or what is yet to be.” 
~ Anthem Lyrics by Leonard Cohen

His message for all is … that life isn’t perfect … people aren’t perfect.  It’s the cracks and flaws in each of us that allow us to grow and learn life lessons. Our broken places, once healed, can become strong as we open our hearts and “allow the light to come in.” And with each new lesson we become more Compassionate, Contented, Happy … We discover our True Self-worth—“Who we really are!”

Over fifty years ago, Richard L. Evans, the voice behind “Music and the Spoken Word,” said these pivotal words that still ring true today. “The moment we close the books on one year we open them on another … And no matter how good [or bad] last year was, there is this year now to consider. We have to keep at it, for life is a process, and not a finished product, and there is no moment at which we can say that the picture is completed.”

“Failure, like success, is never final … We all have successes in our past, just as we remember things we wish we had done a little better. But we need not become discouraged about our past mistakes any more than we should become too comfortable with our past accomplishments. Many mistakes can be corrected, just as many successes can be improved. As long as we keep moving forward and keep doing our best, no success or failure is final.” ~ Lloyd D. Newell, “Music and the Spoken Word,” January 2, 2011

‘Twas the Night Before the Morning After

'Twas the Night Before the Morning After

By Dave Barry (The Miami Herald, December 1, 1996)

'Twas the night before Christmas … or Hanukkah or Kwanzaa or whatever religious holiday your particular family unit celebrates at this time of year via mass retail purchases.

And all through the house … Not a creature was stirring … except Dad, who was stirring his third martini—in a losing effort to remain in a holiday mood, as he attempted to assemble a toy for his 9-year-old son, Bobby. It was a highly complex toy. A toy that Dad did not even begin to grasp the purpose of. A toy that cost more than Dad's first car. A toy that was advertised relentlessly on TV with a little statement in the corner of the TV screen that said “SOME ASSEMBLY REQUIRED.” (Which was like saying that the Titanic sustained “some water damage.”) Because this toy had more parts than the Space Shuttle.

And speaking of space … Dad was now convinced that extraterrestrial life DID indeed exist, because the assembly instructions were clearly written by beings from another galaxy. And these beings insisted on Phillips screwdrivers. And Dad could not find his Phillips screwdriver. In fact, he was wondering who “Phillips” was and why he needed a different kind of screwdriver than everybody else. That was the festive holiday thought that Dad was thinking as he took a slug from his martini and attempted to attach Part 3047-B to Part 3047-C using a steak knife. But other than that, not a creature was stirring in the house.

Although Mom was definitely stirring OUT of the house. Mom was at the Toys “R” Us store. In fact, this was the fifth Toys “R” Us store that Mom had been to that night in her desperate quest to find the one thing that their 5-year-old daughter, Suzy, wanted this holiday season. It was, of course, a Barbie doll. But not just ANY Barbie doll. It had to be the new model, “Abdominals Barbie”—the one who came with her own little pink “stomach muscle” exercise device. It was the hottest Barbie doll of all this holiday season. Every girl age 3 through 12 in the entire United States HAD to have it or her holiday season would be RUINED!

And so of course the Mattel Corporation, which is run by evil trolls from Hades, had manufactured exactly eight units of this doll. And the very last one in the world was in this particular Toys “R” Us. Which means that the odds were against Mom, because on this same festive night thousands of other frantic parents had converged on this same store [kind of like the flesh-eating zombies in the movie “Night of the Living Dead,” only less ethical]. The store was a war zone. Mom had to fight her way into the doll aisle, where, wielding a Tonka Truck like a club, she claimed her prize! And then, trailed by a screaming mob of rival parents, she raced from the store, leaped into her car, and roared out of the parking lot—barely missing the Salvation Army person.

She raced back to the house, burst through the front door, and staggered into the family room, where she found Dad … Actually she found Dad's feet. The rest of Dad was under the sofa. A strange gurgling sound was coming from down there. Dad, now on his fifth martini, was trying to strangle the dog—which, Dad was convinced, had eaten Part 8675-Y.

And just at that very moment … Out on the lawn there arose such a clatter … That Dad let go of the dog. And he and Mom went to the window to see what was the matter.

And what to their wondering eyes should appear … But Santa Claus, yelling the names of reindeer … “Now Dasher! Now, Dancer! Now, Vixen! Now ... Umm ... Now ... Dancer!”

“He already said Dancer,” observed Dad.

“He can't remember them all,” said Mom.

“I think one of them is Pluto,” said Dad.

“Wasn't Pluto the guy who was always fighting with Popeye?” said Mom.

“You're thinking of Bluto,” said Dad.

“Now ... Umm ... Now Flicka!” said Santa.

“Flicka was a horse, that I DO know,” said Mom.

“Do you think the reindeer are wrecking the lawn?” said Dad.

“They're going up on the roof,” said Mom.

“Like heck they are,” said Dad, who had recently spent $875 on shingle repair. But before he could yell at St. Nicholas to stop … Down the chimney the jolly elf came with a plop!

He had a broad face and a round little belly, that shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly. (Which was pretty gross.)

“What's so funny?” asked Dad.

“You two,” said St. Nick. “Why are you getting all upset about toys? The holiday season isn't about material possessions!”

“Do you have kids?” asked Mom.

“Well, no,” said Santa.

“Hah,” said Mom.

“But I am beloved by children the world over,” said Santa.

“Well,” said Dad, “you won't be beloved by our son if I can't assemble this toy.”

“What seems to be the problem?” said Santa, coming over to have a look.

“I'm stuck on Step 824,” said Dad.

“Who wrote these instructions?” asked Santa. “Martians?”

“Apparently,” said Dad.

“I used to be pretty good with tools,” said Santa. “Hand me that steak knife.”

“Sure,” said Dad. “Care for a martini?”

“Heck yes,” said Santa.

And so he went to work. And after a while Mom and Dad, exhausted, went to bed, leaving old St. Nick in the family room. He said some pretty unsaintly words, but he eventually got Bobby's toy assembled. And although he spent so much time that he was unable to visit the rest of the little boys and girls in North America … not to mention South America, Europe, Asia, and Africa, this particular household had a very happy Christmas morning indeed.

Suzy came downstairs and saw Abdominals Barbie, and Bobby came downstairs and saw his incredibly complex toy, which he broke in under four minutes—a new holiday record. But it was still a festive day … Especially when Mom and Dad told the fantastic story of their late-night visitor—which, at first, the kids did not believe. In fact, even Mom and Dad were not 100 percent sure it had happened … Until Dad got out the ladder. And one by one they climbed up to the roof. And there they saw it ... As real as life ... A Holiday Miracle ... Reindeer poop! (And $1,097.36 worth of shingle damage.)

Merry Christmas!!

Magical Monkeys and Milk Chocolate Christmas

Growing up in my family, Christmas was always a celebrated event. My parents were children when the Great Depression began in late 1929, so they both grew up understanding what it meant to be poor. Their families worked hard, but with large families and difficult economic conditions, there was little money to spend on fancy toys and pretty dresses that children often dream about. However, they had their families, and in their love they were happy and contented.

My mother doesn’t remember feeling poor, because everyone they knew was in the same financial condition. They grew their own food, and traded for things they did not have. Mother grew up in the warmth of a loving family. Perhaps because of her meager possessions as a child, or perhaps just because she loved the happy memories of Christmas morning, warm coal stoves, and oranges and peppermint candy … my mother always worked hard to make Christmas an extra special day for each of her children.

I remember my mother hand flocking her own Christmas tree with our old canister vacuum—white clouds of fluffy snow filling the carport, as she sprayed the green branches of our freshly cut Christmas tree. While most of the neighborhood decorated their Christmas trees with traditional colored twinkle lights, candy canes, and silver icicles … Mom was a trend setter and liked modern, designer trees with big red and purple balls, soft white lights, and coordinated wrapping paper. She’d paint Christmas scenes on the front window and hang twinkle lights around it. And there was the Christmas sewing. Throughout December, Mom’s Singer sewing machine could be heard late into the night, long after we were asleep. On Christmas morning there would be new pajamas, Christmas dresses, and doll clothes, skillfully made with her two hands.

Dad used to tease mother and bark in a loud, gruff voice, “Christmas … Humbug,” with a twinkle in his eye. But he’d work hard for extra money to give mom for the shopping, and we knew he enjoyed Christmas as much as we did.

As the big day got closer he’d jokingly question my mother, “Is Santa bringing anything special to Linda?”

They had a communication code in front of the children because Christmas secrets and surprises were part of the anticipation of the long awaited day. Mother would reply, “Yes dear, Santa is bringing her a D … O … L … L,” spelling the letters of my secret gift.

“A what?” Dad would say. And then it would suddenly click in his head what she’d spelled out, and he’d blurt out loud, “Oh, … a doll!”

“Milt!” my mother would exclaim shaking her head and hoping I hadn’t heard. They were like a hysterical comedy team of players and I loved the dance between them.

On one particular Christmas I wanted a monkey. I imagined having a “real” live monkey—a blackish-brown, furry, clothes wearing chimpanzee—like in the popular 1965 Disney movie, “The Monkey’s Uncle,” (with Tommy Kirk and Annette Funicello), that created the hit song by the same name. I was a young naive teenager, as well as an Annette Funicello fan, and having a pet monkey around sounded like a blast. After all, it worked for Annette. 

The monkey was the main item on my Christmas wish list. My mother pointed out how impractical having a real monkey around the house would be and the improbability of ever sharing our home with such a smelly animal. I understood, but kept it on my list just in case ole’ “Santa” had a change of heart.

Right before Christmas, Dad came home with a package of two-inch “milk chocolate” Santa’s—colorfully wrapped in foil Santa suits. My younger brother and I were wide-eyed and curious. Chocolate candy was rare in our home. Were they for us?

The next morning we discovered the mouth watering Santa’s had been placed on specific presents under the tree, identifying Dad’s gifts to each of us. We were so excited! I could hardly wait to find out what Dad’s special gift to me would be. We knew our parents were the real Santa’s, of course, and that mom did the majority of the Christmas shopping. So to have a special gift marked just from Dad, was a thrill we hadn’t expected. I counted the days until Christmas.

On the long awaited day there were stockings hanging on the fireplace—filled with candy and small toys. There were wrapped presents galore and several opened Santa gifts, waiting to be discovered under the tree. I looked around curiously for my monkey and wasn’t surprised to find him missing-in-action among the hall of Santa gifts. It was a glorious Christmas morning full of surprises and shouts of joy. I saved the best for last—my gift from Dad, wanting to savor the chocolate Santa and whatever the contents of my gift would be. Much to my surprise, attached to the present was a note written in Dad’s scribbled hand, explaining Santa could not bring my monkey, but hoped the gift would take it’s place. I ripped off the wrapping paper—revealing a huge, furry, blackish-brown, thumb sucking, stuffed, toy monkey—wearing rubber white tennis shoes. I was in love—with the monkey for sure, but mostly I was filled with love for my Dad and his desire to fill the wishes of my young impressionable heart.

Now, as I prepare for Christmas for my own family, I try to create the memorable traditions of my youth—the designer Christmas tree and coordinated wrapping paper, Christmas lights, and Christmas surprises. It’s not about the money or material possessions … It’s about the magical feeling … creating a special day and being with those you love on “His” special day. I like to fill the stockings with small toys and special trinkets—like my mother did. And I try to find the Christmas magic—with that one special surprise under the tree … Like that “Magical Monkey and Milk Chocolate Christmas” so long ago.

The Twelve Gifts of Christmas

"On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me … A partridge in a pear tree!"  

Some early traditions believe that this famous Christmas song was used as a “teaching tool” to instruct young people in various denominations of the Christian faith. It was written in England for young Catholics in the days when it was illegal to practice or teach the Catholic Faith. It contains hidden symbolism intended to help children remember lessons of faith. Instead of referring to an earthly suitor, the “true love” mentioned in the song really refers to God. The “me” who receives the presents is symbolic of every baptized person. Even without the symbolic connotation, the song is a playful piece that loses none of its appeal when taken at face value.

1. A Partridge in a Pear Tree: The partridge in the pear tree represents Jesus on the cross. The bird imagery can also be seen as symbolic of Christ’s teaching “as hen doth gather her brood under her wings.” ~ Luke 13:34

2. Two Turtle Doves: The two turtledoves represent the Old Testament and the New Testament.

3. Three French Hens: The three French hens symbolize the members of the Godhead: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Alternately, they represent the three virtues: Faith, Hope, and Charity (or Love). ~ 1 Corinthians 13:13

4. Four Colly Birds: The four colly birds (“colly” is an old word for black) stand for the four Evangelists—Mathew, Mark, Luke, and John—or the four Gospels they wrote.

5. Five Golden Rings: The five gold rings correspond to the first five books of the gospel, sometimes referred to as the Pentateuch.

6. Six Geese A Laying: The six geese a-laying refer to the six days of the creation. ~ Genesis 1:31; Exodus 20:11

7. Seven Swans A Swimming: The seven swans a-swimming suggest the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit (Romans 12:6-8). Alternately, the seven swans represent the seven sacraments recognized by some faith traditions.

8. Eight Maids A Milking: The eight maids a-milking signify the eight Beatitudes from Christ’s Sermon on the Mount. ~ Matthew 5:3-10

9. Nine Ladies Dancing: The nine ladies dancing embody the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit. ~ Galatians 5:22-23

10. Ten Lords A Leaping: The ten lord’s a-leaping denote the Ten Commandments. ~ Exodus 20: 3-17

11. Eleven Pipers Piping: The eleven pipers piping represent the eleven faithful disciples. ~ Luke 6:13-16; Acts 1:26

12. Twelve Drummers Drumming: The twelve drummers drumming are symbolic of the twelve doctrines in the Apostles Creed: Belief in the Father, Belief in the Son, Virgin Birth, Atonement, His Ministry after Death, His Ascension to Heaven, His Role as Judge, Belief in the Holy Ghost, Belief in the Church, Forgiveness of Sin, Resurrection, and Eternal Life. ~ Excerpts taken from the Mormon Tabernacle Choir 2009 Newsletter

“Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.” ~ Norman Vincent Peale

What is a Little Boy?

They make you laugh, they make you cry. You marvel at their antics while they drive you crazy! You worry about them—yet you can’t resist loving the little boys in your life.

As a mother, YOUR little boy is always your "favorite" little boy of all!



A Little Boy is—TRUTH with dirt on his face,


BEAUTY with a cut on his finger,


WISDOM with bubble gum in his hair,


AND HOPE of the future with a frog in his pocket!


~ Author Unknown

“A little boy is the only thing God can use to make a man.” 

~ Author Unknown


Happy Birthday Cordale!