Tales from the Crypt (minus the creepy skeleton guy)

Dear Lois,
On June 4^th, it had been 3 years, 3 months and 13 days since I've spoken to mom. I had sat in a group reading with a very well know physic, Concetta Bertoldi, but it was a quick reading where – though she did come through – I only had about 90 seconds hearing from her and I didn’t really speak because I was in shock. Many of the things Concetta said during that reading made complete sense, including “Your mother is thanking you for giving her the tea, her lips were dry.” Which, when mom was in hospice, I was giving her, through a straw, sweet tea because her lips were dry.

When Mom passed, I made an appointment with Concetta for personal reading, and I was put on her three year waiting list. Knowing that my entire life was on the internet, I didn’t give Concetta my real name… and I didn’t use my real phone number or email address. I used a Google number that rang to my phone, and I made up an email address on the fly so I could receive my confirmation.

Leading up to this reading, I have been listening to P!nk’s song, Beam Me Up (which she wrote with one of my bosses, Billy Mann). The lines: “Could you beam me up, Give me a minute, I don’t know what I’d say in it”… That’s all I’ve wanted. Just one minute in that parallel universe. Just to talk to her and to ask her questions “I’m tired of being a fighter. I think a minute’s enough. Just beam me up.” But you see… that one minute comes and goes so quickly. I had a hundred and one questions I wanted to ask, but when I was put in that situation, I was speechless. I couldn’t get anything out. Not that my mind went blank... it that I was so overwhelmed, I literally couldn’t get a sound, let alone a word, out of my mouth.

So fast forward three years... Chris and I arrived at Concetta’s house 45 minutes early, so we drove around the neighborhood. Chris was trying to engage me in a conversation – trying to make me laugh. It wasn’t working. I was making a mental and physical list of the things I wanted to come through. Words that would validate it was mom coming through. People that had passed recently so the names would be fresh in my mind. Songs that make me remember her, the name of her perfume.

When we finally drove up to her house and got out of the car, my palms were already drenched and I felt sick to my stomach. Concetta greeted us and I went straight to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face and just tried to focus in on the moment. Concetta remembered us from three years ago. Not the reading itself, but the fact that we had met in the past. She tried to calm me and get me to relax.

She’s just like she is in her group settings and in her books. After a couple deep breathes, I was fine. So I thought.

CONCETTA: Let me tell you how to have fun with this.

What I want to remind you is that these people are deceased and that they will come from your mother’s side and your father side. Anyone can come through and use you as a messenger, so what I want you to do – the best you can - is tell me who you recognize, or how it makes sense.  Okay?
You’re so damn cute.

PAUL: [Laughing] I know.

CONCETTA: What a good looking kid you are. What are you 12?

PAUL: [Lying out my arse] I’m 27.

CONCETTA: God. Give me a break. I remember those years.

PAUL: [laughing while Chris is giving me that look]

CHRIS: Don’t even start.

CONCETTA: Well, good. Enjoy it. It goes by very quickly, honey. Okay. Alright. One second here. [She breathes in deep] What I want you to do, it’s called “announcing one’s self”.
It’s very simple. Just say who you are. Tell them your first and last name.

PAUL: [not following directions and speeding through it] PaulIrwinDudek

CONCETTA: What is it?

PAUL: Paul Irwin-Dudek

CONCETTA: Do I have your permission to listen, please?

PAUL: Yes, absolutely.  [Taking a deep breathe myself and grabbing a Kleenex]
 

CONCETTA: Thank you. [She takes a couple deep breathes through her mouth]. Okay, okay. I have a woman, she’s standing right here. She calls you beloved son. Now, my question is, you’re very young. [In a confused and questioning tone, I think she’s questioning the age I’ve given her] Is your mother still alive?
 

PAUL: No.
 

CONCETTA: [Aha! moment] Wow. She was right then. I almost argued the point. I’m so sorry, my God. I’m so sorry darling. You lost her so young. I almost thought she was your grandmother, because she called you my son.  Sorry. I’m just talking out loud. Um… she thinks you look so much like her.

[In the first group reading that I attended months after Mazha past, she came through for less than a minute and the first thing she said was, “Look… we look just alike.” It was something she always said, and my typical response would be, “No we don’t. I’m adopted.” Which legally I am… but that’s another story for another time. Actually, the day that I left Texas to make the move up north, in the car Chris said, “wow, you look just like her.” I gave my typical response, which caught Chris off guard. And for two years he didn’t ask me any questions about my family because he didn’t want to pry. It wasn’t until I passed a car on the road that said, “Honk If You’re Polish” and I did. Chris turned to me and asked me if I knew who my birth parents are, and I had no clue to what he was talking about. Yes… to this day, Chris doesn’t believe a single word I say]

She told me you’re beautiful and she’s telling me ‘I love you, darling, I love you.’ Actually [pointing to Chris] she tells me she loves him to.
 

PAUL: She actually loved him more.
 

CONCETTA: She telling me he’s a wonderful partner, and she’s really happy that you’re loved. And she tells me to say it over and over again, “I’m so happy that you’re loved”.

[She takes a deep breathe]

Can you tell me who Helen is? [She takes another breath and I can’t get a word out. I’m physically speechless. I just shake my head up and down and a steady stream of tears pour from my eyes. Chris is just looking at me because he doesn’t know who Helen can be and why this has me reacting this way]. Can you tell me who… it starts with a “L”. “L-Helen.” I don’t know how to say it.

PAUL: Lois

CONCETTA: Who is Lois?

PAUL: So, (with my voice cracking and the back of my throat burning) Lois Helen Stephens passed away before my mother did. [Chris lets out a gasp and then covers him mouth]. I never met her. [Dear Lois...]

CONCETTA: Well, they are together. Your mother is telling me to tell you that they are together.
[Last night, Chris went to bed early because he wasn’t feeling good. When I went to bed, the sheets and the duvet had been completed confiscated to his side of the bed, so I walked into the hallway closet and grabbed 'Lois'. She had comforted me once again, but this time just hours before she came to visit.]

She said to tell you…she just telling me about her life. She’s with a lot of people. She wanted me to let you know that she was chosen to speak. They always elect a spokesperson and she was chosen. She’s very happy where she is and tells me to tell you that she no longer suffers. Did she have cancer, dear?

PAUL: No.

CONCETTA:  Whatever she had, she shows me that she had dealings with suffering. She tells me that her body… I’m seeing all of her organs shut down one-by-one. Organs… Shut down. Shut down. Shut down. And whatever it was, she’s happy at where she is because she’s no longer suffering. Whatever from I don’t know.

She’s with a lot of other people and they are all talking at the same time. But that’s okay, because she is delighted.

Who is Margaret, or Mary or Marie or “M”? Is there Mary, Mae… something like that?

PAUL: [Shaking my head, no, but I know what she’s wanting to come through. I don’t make a comment because I want her to get this]

CONCETTA: [she takes a deep breathe] Marianne, Marleen… I don’t know.  She might be talking about… there are a lot of people here so, keep in mind, they might be using you as a messenger. They could be talking about someone who is alive. [I make a mental note that I wanted her to come back to this - she needs to come back to this. I know what she's wanting to say.]
 

She’s calling you Paulie. Now, they are saying 'Paulie' because it almost sounds like there is another Paul. Is there another Paul?

PAUL: Yes. [This was something that was on my list that I wrote down to come through in order to validate the reading. In the group reading, I was called Paulie. She never called me Paulie and it wasn’t until we got in the car that night that I knew what she was trying to say. This being repeated only validated the reading more.]
 

CONCETTA: She’s saying, (moving her hands from side to side) “Paul” and then “Paulie”. Who is the other Paul.

PAUL: My grandfather.
 

CONCETTA: He’s Paul and you’re Paulie?

PAUL: Paul E. [Which is how I've signed my name since grade school]
 

CONCETTA: That’s what she’s saying but I interpreted that as Paulie. “I.E.” Paulie. She’s telling me. But she’s standing with Paul, she said.  I didn’t think it was your dad but it’s was a father figure by the way that she said it.

You are such a good son, and she’s telling me that you always were. She’s talking about when you were young kids – how many siblings do you have?
 

PAUL: One

CONCETTA: She talking about when her children were so young, you were so sweet. She showing me images of you. She’s talking about you like you were very skinny and you wouldn’t eat.

PAUL: I am skinny and I’m not eating now.
 

CONCETTA: She says it to me like you were a poor eater. They worried about you. That you didn’t eat well. And that she was so concerned that you didn’t eat. She telling me that she remembers when you were little they would have to make special food – not special food – but only the things that you liked. You were so finicky. She saying and showing me that they were so worried.  Like, if you liked toast, they would make you a ton of toast. And that was what she liked. [I didn’t remember this, but did get confirmation from my sister]

She’s telling me you were very… in the neighborhood. You had a lot of friends and the kids all played together. Outside. She showing me images of you as a little kid. A really sweet little kid. And um… pretty. Beautiful. I don’t know how else to say it. Just so adorable. And she shows you… well, you have beautiful skin now, but she’s showing me as a child with milk white skin and even lighter hair that you have now. And she’s saying it like… you know…
 

PAUL: Well, it’s greying now.

CONCETTA: Well, you’re only 27.
 

CHRIS: Paul…

PAUL: Okay, I lied about my age.
 

CONCETTA: You did?!?

CHRIS: [Laughing] He’s almost 40.
 

PAUL: NO, I’m not.

CONCETTA: Oh, my Lord, and I believed you. Well, that’s not fair. And I’m so jealous. You look good. Let me say that. You both are adorable. But you have a baby face. Your father is saying… no, your mother is saying something about your dad. (She takes in a deep breath). Is he still here?
 

PAUL: Yes.

CONCETTA: She shows him to me… she’s trying to tell me something about him. She says to you, “Please have patience with him. He doesn’t always understand everything. And, he tries, but it’s not always perfect.” But she says, “It is what it is,” and he doesn’t always communicate well. He’s not the kind of guy who can talk about his emotions and his thoughts and put them out there –or connect the dots, do you understand?
 

PAUL: Yes.

CONCETTA: She’s telling me to tell you that so you understand. It’s the way he was raised. But she says that she was grateful to him because he was good to her.

Do you have a bother or a sister?

PAUL: Sister.

CONCETTA: Who has the brother?  Bothers? Is it your mother? She’s mentioning the brothers. No, your father… your father has brothers. Have any of them passed?
 

PAUL: No. [She’s correct, mom had no brothers but dad has two]

CONCETTA: Then I don’t know who these brothers are, but she’s telling me they are with HER, the brothers that passed. They’re with HER and I don’t know how they are connected. But they are together. That’s okay…
 

Do you recognize who is Roger or Richard?

PAUL: No.
 

CONCETTA: Raymond? That’s okay… no worries. You’ll get it. He’s passed. Whoever this man is with the “R”. I just want to say it so you can listen back to this. Okay?

And who is… Rose or Ruth. She’s saying it again, but with a female sound. Saying the “R”. Is it Rose or Ruth or Roberta?  Something like that. Okay, these are people you’re related to dear, but I don’t know how it fits together. [Ruth i smy grandmothers middle name... but that's all I have on this so far]

[Concetta takes her hand off the table and with her eyes closed, she brings her hand in front of her faces and smells from the bottom of the palm to the tip of her fingers]

Did you mother smoke cigarettes? I can smell them.

PAUL: Yes. [boy, did she ever]

CONCETTA: She’s telling me she enjoyed smoking. [Smells her hand again].

And who is Ann? An Ann or Anna… a friend of hers. [I shake my head, no]
She says… [Concetta turns her head up, with her eyes closed and asks Mom A question], “A friend of yours, mam?”

Okay, oh my God, sorry… one second. They are all talking at once.

Whose Frank or Fred?  Freddy? Who’s Freddy?

PAUL: Freddy. Her Uncle

CONCETTA: They just brought him home and that’s why there is so many people talking. [He had just passed two weeks prior] There is a huge homecoming celebration. That’s why so many people are speaking. It’s a home coming for this gentleman and that’s why there are so many spirits connected to that? 

PAUL: [Laughing] So, they are speaking to him over there? They weren’t speaking to him here on earth.

CONCETTA: On the other side, yes. [Laughing] I don’t know what the situation is, but on that side it’s unconditional.

[What I realized afterwards, is the Ann, or “Anna” that Concetta was referencing was Freddy’s wife who passed many years ago. She mentioned Anna, and then went right into Freddy, making the connection that they were there together]

She’s talking to me about your life. She definitely is showing me pictures of you growing up. Always being outside… in the woods… you and your sister [We did live on a huge property, next to the lake, that butted up against many acres of woods].

Well… Happy outings with your father, too, when you were a kid. She’s showing me the water. By the lake, but not the ocean. She showing me happy times there. She’s showing me the woods. She telling me that you were always industrious. You always were able to earn money and you have a creative mind. [I got in trouble in the third grade because I operated a boot-leg candy store on the school grounds. I had a 50-60% mark-up and used my allowance to kick-start my business. Later in high-school, I had a similar operation and in college… well, we will just leave it at that.]  And she was always admiring of that.

And you always thought of her. And that’s the part that she says the most…” Thank you so much because you always thought of me. What I needed.” She is talking about mother’s day gifts. And things you were just so kind about. That you remembered it all. She knows that you remember something to do with a telephone number. I don’t know what that means. But something about a telephone number that you play in your mind. A number.  I’m seeing it as a telephone number, but you play it in your mind like it has some significance. To her and to you. [We had the same telephone number for years, and when she gave up the landline and moved to mobile, I would still call the home number to reach her. When she passed, I would still call the number. I still recall the number in my mind when I’m driving and thing of her]

What is April? Is that a birthday or anniversary?  Is it the month that she past? What is it? She says she passed away on somebodies birthday.

PAUL: Nope.

CONCETTA: Okay. She says she passed away on somebody’s birthday or on somebody’s anniversary or holiday. I don’t know what it is, but she’s showing me – it’s a birthday. [Chris laughs]

CHRIS: Its Kayla’s Birthday. [I was trying to think about someone prior to her passing, but our best friends had their daughter on the one year anniversary of her passing… and prior to Kayla’s birth, I told everyone that Cathy was having a girl – she didn’t know what she was going to have - and she’d be born on February 22.

CONCETTA: Yes, there is something connecting that. She says she knows that you recognize that.
She said to tell you something about William. Who’s William?
[I’m so bad at this game… I shake my head no] It’s Bill. Who is Bill?

PAUL: It’s my uncle.

CONCETTA: Who is David, Donald… Danny? [No clue… the only thing I can think of is as a child we had a family friend, David, that was like my parents other son. He was between the ages of me and my sister and they stayed in contact throughout the years… and the funny thing is, now David and I live just towns apart, even though we both grew up in Texas]

Um... you have cousins that passed away that are over there.  They are young. She telling me you have a young cousin over there that recently passed. Starts with an “R”.

PAUL: I do have a younger cousin that passed. His name is Roger.

CONCETTA: [wanting to slap me, i'm sure] That was “R”, the “Roger” that was coming through earlier. [Um, yes. I see that now. Sitting back and looking at psychic shows I’ve watched on TV it always amazing me that people don’t know their own relatives names… well, look at me – I don’t either].

She’s trying to tell you that they are standing with her, because of the celebration of the homecoming of the uncle that passed. She couldn’t wait for you to get here. You’re in very good health, dear. You’ll have a very long life. She says you’re safe and you’re happy. And she’s very happy about that.

[Turning to Chris]
She knew you. She knew you, she said. And she has her arms around you and wants you to know that.

She showing me travels in your future. She’s telling me you’re travelers. You like to travel.[Chris and I have been to over 16 countries and most of the United States]

I see Florida in the midst.  [Chris laughs, as we just may plans less than two weeks ago to go back to Disney in October].

I know you two had a dog. She shows me a dog. [Chris gets teary eyed, and I haven’t stopped balling since the reading began.] She said the dog could see her and that the dog barked at her. The dog was very well aware of her presence and it’s not your imagination.

She’s saying, “Please know I’m always able to hear you, so when you ask for anything don’t hesitate to ask.” And also she’s telling not to hesitate to ask, but say, “In the name of God, hear my prayer” She’s one with God. She’s loving telling me to tell you how much God loves you and… listen… [we break for a personal story].

She’s making sure to tell you that God is love and God loves all things. She has the answers to the things she’s wondered about. And she wasn’t sure… but now she is, and she’s loving it.  She’s saying, “tell my son he’s in good hands – on this side and the other.”

Who is Doris, or Dorothy, or Deloris? [Oh please… not with the names again]. Do you know who this is? This is a woman who I believe was a good friend of hers. I feel like she’s telling me about the friends of hers that have passed away that are surrounding her and she said… She’s telling me I said her name wrong. [She never said it, but I know where this is going] What did I do? What is your mother’s first name? She said I said it wrong. She wants me to go back to it. I must have said the first initial, but didn’t say her name right.

PAUL: Go back to the “M”.

CONCETTA: That’s what she said… I said it wrong. “Thanks honey… I know I did… what is it?” I don’t know… Meredith? Mary? She’s telling me I’m saying it wrong.  I’m asking her why she’s not telling me her name and she’s responding to me with “you mis-said it”. 

What is it? You have to tell me because I’m just not getting it?

PAUL: Mazha

CONCETTA: I would have never gotten that. NEVER. How do you say it?

PAUL: [I can’t get it out. I’m chocking on my own breath and tears] Masz-ha

CONCETTA: Okay. So that’s what it is. What background it that?

PAUL: It’s not… we made it up. We called her that.

CONCETTA: What was her given name?

PAUL: Joyce

CONCETTA: But it’s the M name that she wanted me to say.

And who is Ed?  There is someone named Ed there. When you get back, know that your family is a part of this and listen to this and ask your family. [Okay, family reading this... who is Ed? What I have learned is my grandfather, Paul, was also 'Paul E." His middle name is Ed. Not sure if that is the meaning behind this, but it's what I've gotten so far.]

You have things that belong to her that she knows you treasure. And she’s telling me “They’ve saved things of mine, Concetta” she’s said. She’s showing me dishes or kitchen stuff. I’m not understanding it. She telling me your sister took things that belonged to her and she loves that. She loves that your sister is reminded of her. She wants you to tell your sister that she loves her. “Send my love to her” she’s saying.

Who’s Carol?

PAUL: Her sister.

CONCETTA: She has the connection to Bill, or William. She’s acknowledging that. [She’s right. Mom;s sister Carol (deseased) was married to William/Bill] She sends her love.

She’s telling me to tell you to tell everyone that I know that they prayed for me that they loved me and that where she is, is a miracle. Its home. It’s a miracle. She doesn’t want you to worry about her anymore. She can hear every word when you speak and she’s still involved in your life and she’s protecting you.

From when you were this big (making the ‘knee high’ sign) , you loved animals. Kittens, dogs… anything with four-legs and fur – you were amazing. And gentle (Concetta cups her hands).

She talks about your father. He’s not having an easy time. She says to please understand that he does quirky things because he’s… not able to talk about his loneliness. So whatever he’s doing, she’s telling you not to worry about it. He’s doing this in order to survive.

She used to love to laugh – especially with the both of you. She was an easy laugher, too.

If you gave her a cup of coffee… and a cigarette, she’d be happy. She loved them both.  [Simone confirmed that when she was younger, before I came along, she used to live on coffee. By the time I came along, that was replaced by sweet tea]

She loves that she’s no longer in pain. What was going on with her body, honey?

PAUL: She had ALS.

CONCETTA: No wonder… she showed me her body breaking downs. I saw her legs. [Another item I wrote down prior to arriving at Concettas. I wanted her to reference her legs]  I know she telling me that she can now dance and run, and she loves telling that to you.

And I love telling you that there is a miracle coming if these politicians would get out of the way with what they can come up with in the area of stem-cell research. So vote wisely. She’s telling me there is a miracle coming, and no one will suffer the way that she did. She wants me to tell you that, and that she can do anything now.

Okay, so she’s trying to tell me some dates. January / February. What is it? Is that when she passed?

PAUL: Yes [February 22^nd]

CONCETTA: She telling me that that’s when her crossing was. [She looks up] “Thanks honey!”
She wants you to know you have a long life. You’ll be here a long time and you’re very healthy. [So, Chris is going before me… I knew it. And with DOMA being recently struck down, I get full death benefits.]

Things are going very well for you. Are you on the computer a lot of the time? She showing me you on the computer and she blows on your neck. She goes like this to you [dusting off her shoulder, and touching her neck]. She tries very hard to get your attention and to show you signs to let you know that she’s with you. And that she surrounds you. She has brought butterflies and it’s not your imagination. She now that she’s said it, you will start seeing it. It’s that, or something with wings. She showing something and just know that it’s not a coincidence.

I smell a cologne or perfume. I believe it’s something that you identify with her as well.  She says that the perfume… when you spray it you say her name. [The one thing I took of hers for Kensington is her favorite perfume which smells like Japanese Cherry Blossoms. When I spray it on her, I tell her she smells just like her Mazha]

She used to like to make you something to eat, if you wanted something, when she could do it. What do you want? At the end of her life everything started to shut down. Not everybody was there. Who wasn’t there? Who was missing? [Her sister Lisa came down after the fact, while her other two sisters, Carol and Paulette lived local] I know she’s telling me, “don’t worry”, she just wants them to know – I didn’t want anyone to be hurt by my leaving.

She was very grateful to be let go. [Simone, Chris and I all had seperate conversations with her  - against our fathers wishes, letting her know it was okay for her to go. That she didn’t need to suffer anymore]

Very grateful and more grateful to know that she didn’t die and that she walked into this amazing light, surrounded by so many. And that every time someone comes home, there is an amazing homecoming. And they take them in.

You are very popular at work. I don’t know what you do, but you have a lot of friends and tons of people respect you. She shows me that you are very loved by those that surround you. You have a great network. She says that. Your friends… your co-workers… what have you. She’s showing me very large groups. You travel around and people know your name and the welcome you in. [I do… I travel to our Walks or Events, where there can be anywhere from 1,000 or 30,000 individuals, and I’m announced from the stage before I speak to all of our participants]

And in the future you have some dreams that come true. [We will see]

Personally, I think it has to do where you live. She’s showing me a residence change… but it really is happy for you. [Chris and I are living in our current location on a temporary basis. While we still have our house in the Poconos, we moved so I could be closer to work in NYC. Now, I have a 12 minute commute to the Empire State Building, but we know the apartment that we currently live in is only ‘home’ for two years.]

And you’re dreaming about her. Because she says she knows that you know she visits you when you’re sleeping. And that you wake up and you only remember little bits and pieces of it. [True, very true]

So please understand that it’s not your imagination. There are many layers of sleep; Theta, Delta, Beta… all these lower stages that we are fluctuating between all the time. When we sleep, they speak to us when we get into the lower layers. And when we start to really understand that we’re having this conversation, that’s when the other layers begin to wake us up. And then when we get to the layers above, it makes it seem like it’s a dream sequence. So that’s why you’re only remembering pieces of it. I want you to understand that your mother is talking to you. And you do have long sit downs with her. “I just want you to know,” she says, “I think you’re beautiful and I love you. I love you so much.” [Turning to Chris] And she says that to you too, as well my dear. [I swear he gave her a large sum of money when she was still here in order for her to say that. I always knew they had a secret alliance together]

She’s a good woman. She had a good life and she’s not complaining, about anything. She’s telling me that the only thing that there is, is that there is a great lesson in life and whatever came from her dealing with what she dealt with; her greatest joy is having the family that cared about her. And now she’s telling me that it’s all done now, and she had the answers to so many questions that she had… and she loves telling you that.

Another thing that I want to mention and I don’t know how it all falls into play, and I don’t know where… but do you guys have kids, because she talks about your children?

PAUL: [Shaking my head yes]

CONCETTA: I didn’t know how to put it all together, because she showing me kids.  How many do you have?

PAUL: [eeking out a single word] One.

CONCETTA: There will be a second. I just want to let you know because they’re talking about it… You have a daughter. And they are talking about another child, and I don’t know how this falls into play. You daughter is extremely bright and extremely adorable and she’s crazy about yous. And she tries to play the one against the other one, so just be aware of it. [Does Concetta have a video camera in our house?]

She knows your weaknesses and she knows yours. It doesn’t mean that she’s a bad kid; it just means that she’s a smart kid. And she’s not big… she’s a little one. She’s adorable and she’s crazy about yous and you’re doing a great job, your mother said. And it’s like I see these photographs of you, her, him and the dog. That’s just adorable. Such a sweet family and your mother is loving it, just loving it because you finally got the happiness you deserve and that you fought for in your life. [It’s funny that Concetta said the word, “fought” because Chris and I have been huge advocates for marriage equally. One would think the entire LGBT community it, but they are not. We marched in the first Human Rights Campaign in DC in 2000, alongside Ellen and at the time Anne Heche. We fought for equal health/employment benefits from one - at the time –of the largest companies in the world, and I started Inclusion Action Teams within my last job and was the organizations advocate and face of the LGBT Community. We’ve also been fighting to have our marriage recognized by the Federal Government] And she wants you to know that it will continue.

Your daughter is a mix between the two of you. They show her to be really cute and, just a mix. She has your personality traits and yours. [Concetta starts laughing] They show her much like this [Showing us her crossed fingers] How old is she?

PAUL: Four

CONCETTA: Yeah… they show her like this. And if you forgive me, a little spoiled.

PAUL: Hmm…

CONCETTA: But, whatever… they say she’s very happy and that’s all that matters. She’s a very happy little girl and there is no question that they show a vision that is sweet and loving and bright and successful for her.

You mother is saying that. “when you need me, just call me, I’ll be there. It’s not a coincidence, it’s the truth.” And she’s asking you to send her love to everyone. She’s getting lower, dear. Please ask me any questions that you may have.

PAUL: I know that Kensington has been with us forever. Um… I’m just wondering how she’s been connected to us.

CONCETTA: She’s known you many different lives. It’s not a coincidence that she’s in your lives now. She’s known you many different life times. If you’ve done any readings on book that talk about past lives – I’ve done so much research on this, and I know it anyway – but I’m always amazed at it. If you listen to children, it’s ‘out of the mouths of babes’. [Personal story cut] [I have read many of these books, as well as all of Concetta's books. Concetta talked about spirit guide but doesn’t go into it much, whereas other books talk about how the spirits are connected – See Many Lives, Many Masters – I was hoping for Concetta to give us some insight, but she’s not that type of medium or physic].

PAUL: The last time we had a group reading, she mentioned something about a fruit bowl. We’ve tried to figure out what she was saying, and we have no clue.

CONCETTA: She’s actually laughing…  She has a sense of humor. She’s laughing as I ask her, “What about the fruit bowl?”  It’s a fruit bowl. I don’t know… all I know is she’s saying that you have things that belong to her and she loves being in your home.

She’s showing me photographs of her in your house… She’s showing me things that you use every day. Stuff.  Something in the kitchen. Do you have dishes of hers? She’s showing my cutlery. She’s showing me the kitchen.

PAUL: Her urn is in the kitchen. On the counter next to the knives.

CONCETTA: What is it that he has, dear? She’s showing me little do-dads… little tchotchkes. From the kitchen. Do you have any of those things? She’s showing me these things… you may not have them, but you loved them. She’s want me to mention these. Honey, I’m seeing these little things in the kitchen. And then she’s showing me photographs. So, it has to be something with the small do-dads. [I wasn’t getting it, but once I got back in the car, I looked at my list that I wrote and I felt like a complete idiot. I wrote, “Tobasco”. I used this word for validation. Mom had literally hundreds of different tobasco bottles decorating the kitchen, as well as tobacco pot-holders, salt and pepper shakers, pictures and other ‘do-dads and tchotchkes”. She also used this as her password for some of her email accounts. I was looking for Concetta to use the word “Tobasco” and not what they actually were]  

I know she’s talking to your daughter. You daughter knows her. She is talking with her. She has conversations with her. And you daughter is being protected by her. She loves that little girl. That’s sweet. That’s so sweet. I’m so happy for you.

Is your daughter, I’m just curious, is she a mixed race? But she’s white.

CHRIS: Blonde hair, blue eyes.

CONCETTA: Oh Maron. You’re going to have your hands full in the future [referencing that she too is blonde and blue eyed] They show her to be just like you and just like you… a mix. That’s why I’m asking if she’s mixed raced. Your mother is showing me you and you. She has so many things. So many expressions on her face. Your mom is mentioning it. She’s just really fun. Your mother is talking about it and in love with her. [Mom was/is one of her biggest fans. She loved Kensington so much and was just so elated every time I would update the blog and add additional pictures. She got the biggest kick when we would be in the store together and a stranger would walk up to us and say, “Oh she’s so cute” and seeing that she had blond hair and blue eyes, and we didn’t, they would say, “She must look just like her mommy.” Her response would be, “she looks just like her daddies.”]

Your daughter has pointed at her and tried to tell you that she’s there. It’s not your imagination. Whatever it is, your mother is telling you that she’s not dead. She’s in the air that you breathe. She’s in the AIR. A.I.R.  Always In Reach. And she’s very grateful for the way that you love her and remember her. There you go. I hope this was good for you. You are so welcomed. You both – because of the way that she is saying it – are good people. They are telling me, with huge kind of applause, what type of men you are. They are proud of this. They are all very proud of this, not just your mother.  The energy around you guys is nothing but beautiful. Have a good time in Florida.

And there it is. A half-hour frozen in time. Concetta was right, it goes quickly. I can say that I now have a new sense... it's almost like relief or peace. I look at things a different way now. Do I still miss her? Like crazy. But now I have a new purpose... to write down all my questions for my next appointmnet. Unfortunately, Concetta is a very busy woman. Her next opening is in 2019.

Well, I guess that’s it

Dear Louis,

“Well, I guess that’s it.” These were the last words spoken by George Clooney’s character in the recent release, The Descendants, as he and his children poured his wife’s remains into the Hawaiian waters. The scene then cuts to them in the living room of their home, trying to move on from the painful moment and attempting to return to some aspect of normalcy, watching TV and eating a bowl of ice-cream, as they all cover up with the meticulous stitched gold and eggshell-white quilt that lay upon her in her final days. As the credits roll, I can barely move. I’m overwhelmed and inconsolable after watching two hours of scenes of this man’s wife in the same physical condition as Mazha was in while she laid in her hospice bed; the character unplugged from life support, mouth gaping open with dry lips pleading for any amount of moisture to touch its dehydrated rim, hands positioned to look as if they are clutching rolled washcloths to prevent its digits from completely buckling inward, cords and plugs and hoses protruding from and around her neck, and sweat-laced oil-soaked fibers of hair clinging to the side of her face.

This is not the first time I entered a movie not knowing anything what the storyline was about to later find out that it was beyond what I could emotionally take. A sudden illness or accident, family members gathering around a loved ones’ deathbed to say their final goodbyes, children planning a parents funeral, or new parent losing their own and feeling helpless in the situation… Usually, if the scenes become too graphic or hit home too much and that I feel like I can’t watch anymore, I would take it as my cue to get up and refill my popcorn or drink, take the much needed bathroom break that I had been painfully holding off taking (yes, I still have pregnancy bladder even though Kensington is almost 3), or if needed, just leave the theater. This movie made me want to leave within the first 10 minutes. Besides the script being absolutely dreadful, and only a tenth of the movie having to deal with the long line of fictional descendants of Hawaiian Princess KaiKai or TuTu or whatever her name was (I swear Clooney only signed on to this deal because he wanted a three month vacation on the island where he could walk around barefoot the entire time), the director desperately tried to invoke raw reaction from the audience by focusing long periods of muted scenes on a lifeless body in a hospital bed.

Upon determining to leave and suck up the wasted $24 I just spent, I realized I couldn’t. My legs were rock solid, feet bolted to the floor. I had just run 1.5 miles from my hotel to the movie theater. It was a last minute decision to see a movie and The Descendants was the only thing playing at the closest theater to me that I hadn’t seen yet that looked somewhat appealing. I had twelve minutes from the time I decided to see a show from the time the movie started. After being stuck in LA traffic for an hour forty minutes trying to travel 7 miles from Downtown to West Hollywood the night before, I decided that trying to taxi my way wouldn’t cut it, so with my dress shoes still on and my GPS on my phone, I hauled arse. Making two wrong turns and with sweat beads pouring from both my forehead and my back, I made it to the theater while the previews were still rolling. Out of breath and feeling like I was going to pass out, I drudge my way up to the top row and laid claim to a stadium seat with extra leg room. Clearly the time I’ve been spending on the treadmill hasn’t helped in a situation like this (mental note, increase time spent working out from 5 minutes to 7 minutes a week and increase speed from ‘prancing’ to ‘skipping’ mode). When it became clear that this was not the movie for me, it quickly became a realization that I was not going anywhere without a crowbar available to pry me from my seat. With moans from the back row – both emotional and utterly painful ones – I suffered through it with my palms over my face to block the screen. At two points during the movie, I actually considered turning my phone on and dialing 911 and asking for a paramedic to come and get me, but with the luck I’ve been having they would have transported me to the clinic in Compton.

When I realized I was the last one in the theater, because the movie FINALLY came to an end, I reached for the railing and lifted myself out of my chair, spilling my popcorn down the stairs. Acting like a paraplegic, I shimmied my way down with both legs glued to one another, and then hugged the wall of the corridor as I made my way to the exit. Roughly twenty minutes to the side door, I staggered outside and stood against a light post, waiting for a taxi to pull as close as possible to me. I crawled into a taxi and gave the directive to find the closest pharmacy from where we were at and was told one was one block away. The driver rolled his eyes in disgusted when I told him I would gladly pay the $2.75 to drive me to the location, knowing that he would have to circle around and get back at the end of the line at the taxi stand and would have to wait awhile for his next customer. Being the ever so gracious customer that I am, I asked him to wait – with the meter running – so I could go in, pick up a bottle of Aleve, and then would need a ride to my hotel. There was no way I would attempt to walk back in the condition that I was in. Once I returned, the meter was at $6.35. I guess it took a while. I wasn’t paying attention to the time because I was focused on the looks I was receiving from the employees and customers of the store. I owned my walk. I owned my look. I wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed, but disgusted by the watchers. This is LA… “Have a little fun before I die,” says a man next to me out of nowhere. How am I the one here that is standing out? [Sorry for the Sheryl Crowe reference, but every time I’m here that song is playing in the back on my mind – it normally happened when I’m driving on Santa Monica Boulevard]

“Well, I guess that’s it;” a five-word sentence that tried to sum up an entire movie. A line that the writer intended to put its audience at ease saying that now a death has occurred and a ceremony has taken place, everything can go back to normal. Not so.

It’s been almost two years and I hate to say it, but that’s not it. Yes, life goes on and while there are many nights I too sit on the couch, covered with Louis and a bowl of ice-cream on my lap, there isn’t a return normalcy. It’s a life of change. Routines change and structure changes, but normalcy will never have its place.

Since my last post, I changed my routine to get a different perspective on life. Not a new beginning, which seems too much like I would be running away from something… is more like a new assessment on life; as a husband, as a contributor to society and now more importantly as a parent. We have to take each day as it comes to us. We have to cherish what has been given to us, and we must look at every issue as an opportunity and not a challenge or obstacle. Life isn’t perfect. God, I wish it was… but that was never our purpose for being here.

Another day, another blog post. More to come that are a little bit more upbeat. Ones that will surely highlight Miss K and the little lady that she is becoming. We have so much to share with that will make you laugh, because it has done so for us. So until then… “well, I guess that’s it.”

A Year Of Mourning

Dear Lois,

Over the past twelve months, I have become more in-tune to my spiritual beliefs – that is to say, I didn’t become religious or spiritual in light of the recent misfortunes in our lives, but I have reconnected with by base beliefs. Being the only one in our family that wasn’t christened in the Catholic faith (long story…), I’ve been a so-called member of many of the Christian denominations out there. Baptized Southern Baptist at the age of 9, I stayed in that faith until my early teens, then switched between the Lutheran and the Methodist churched until I was about 15. Then when I entered a four year relationship with, what would become my fiancé, my high school/early-college sweet-heart, I dabbled in the LDS (Mormon) religion. Since meeting Chris, I’ve gone to two reformed protestant churches; the Episcopal Church and the United Church of Christ.

Since then, I have exposed myself to one of the original faiths, Judaism. Judaism, with its long history of dealing with the soul of man, its intimate knowledge of man's achievements and foibles, his grandeur and his weakness, has wisely devised a system of graduated mourning periods. During this time, the mourner may express his or her grief and release, with calculated regularity, the built-up tensions caused by bereavement.

The Jewish religion provides a beautifully structured approach to mourning which is divided into five stages. Aninut, Lamentation, Shivah, Sheloshim and a Year of Mourning.

The fifth stage is the twelve-month period during which things return to normal, and business once again becomes routine, but the inner feelings of the mourner are still wounded by the rupture of relationship with the loved one.

The observance that most affects the daily life of the mourner during the twelve-month period is the complete abstention from parties and festivities, both public and private. Participation in these gatherings is simply not consonant with the depression and contrition that the mourner experiences.



This was not meant to look like a shrine,
I just moved the candles
closer for the picture.



It borders on the absurd for the mourner to dance gleefully while his parent lies dead in a fresh grave (or in our case, separated into several boxes and thrown in the ocean, hanging from a necklace, buried with her father, sitting on a shelf, and in my house, hanging out in a Japanese Urn on the liquor cabinet - exactly where she would have wanted to be).

At the close of this last stage, the bereaved is not expected to continue his mourning. So with that being said, No More Sadness. Period. [I so wish it was as easy as typing the words and the actions will follow. Unfortunately, it's not. I don't know how one can expect it to go away.]

While today is a day to remember Mazha’s life that passed away a year ago today, it’s also time to celebrate the new life that came into the world today. Kensi’s uncle Kyle and Auntie Cathy had a baby girl today - Kayla. While I have pictures of her in the hospital nursery, I’ll ‘allow’ the newbie parents to post the first photos of their princess before I do so. I will also let them share the story of Cathy falling asleep during labor (that woman falls asleep at the drop of the hat), and how what she desired the most was to have her eye lashes curled (if people were going to take pictures, she wanted to look flawless). It’s not my place to tell that story, or share with you the uncomfortable conversation I witnessed where Kyle stood in the hallway with his mother-in-law discussing her daughter’s cervix. It’s just not my place. Sorry folks :)

In honor of Mazha’s life, I wanted to share the video that we played at her funeral. It had to be split up into two videos because of YouTubes time limit on video uploads.

Part 1



Part 2

A sad ending to 2010

As most of you know, 2010 was not the best year for our family. In February we lost Mazha, and in less than a month, my sister lost her brother-in-law, Jack, and her nephew, Shawn; only to be followed by Jack’s wife two weeks ago. We lost our auntie Carol seven months to the day from when Mazha past. I’ve attended five other funerals and over a dozen memorial services (four for Mazha) for friends, family members of friends, volunteers and committee members.

Today, we had to put our 13year old Duncan, an Akita/Labrador mix, to sleep. The past month or so, he’s has some incontinence issues and we feared he was having kidney/bladder issues. The vet ran some blood work and did a urine exam and diagnosed him with Lyme disease. One more reason why I hate the deer in the Poconos.

Several medications later, it still wasn’t helping. Some dogs develop severe progressive kidney disease as sequelae to Lyme disease. This severe kidney failure is difficult to treat and may result in death of the dog. Some dogs may also develop heart problems or nervous system disease after being infected, in addition to lameness, swelling in the joints, swollen lymph nodes, lethargy, and loss of appetite.

This morning Duncan kept falling as he was having issues using his back legs, and then he was having breathing problems. He laid on the floor, covered in his quilt, and just looked at us. Kensi, who is his biggest fan, knew something wasn’t right. She leaned down to give him one final kiss, and he finally accepted her love’ns without blinking or turning his head. While he loved her dearly, he’d struggle accepting her affection by running from it – which only made her chase him more. In the end, she finally won out. She'll no longer be able to hide the fact that when she doesn't want to eat something, she sneeks it to him, and he covers for her.
Chris and I fought back the tears as we knew this was the end, and so did he.

Chris went and started the car, letting the seats down to make room for him. Duncan tried standing up, but kept hitting the wall as he attempt to walk. I scooped him up and walked up the snow filled driveway and placed him in the back seat for his final ride, the ride that brought him to all of the other puppies in the sky.

We'll miss you Lil' Man!

September 21, 1997 – December 27, 2010

Remembering Mazha

Today there was no cake. No candles. Just a simple flower arrangement that we laid at the entrance of her hospice room. She would have been 64 today.

To honor her memory, we’ve started “Team Dudek” for the Walk to Defeat ALS that is taking place this fall (October 30, the week before we scatter her ashes). This is an exciting opportunity for us to work together to support those like Kensington's Mazha who are affected by Lou Gehrig's Disease and to spread awareness of the urgency to find treatments and a cure.

No one else like Kensington should have to lose their Mazha to a horrible disease such as ALS. The life expectancy of an ALS patient averages 2 to 5 years from the time of diagnosis... Mazha fought her battle from September 12 (the day she was admitted into the hospital) until Feb 22 (the morning she lost her battle). The frightening thing is every 90 minutes a person in this country is diagnosed with ALS and every 90 minutes another person will lose their battle against this disease. All we can say is "enough is enough!"

For a recap of Mazha's fight, visit here and scroll to the last post (bottom of the page) and read that one first.

To make a donation (yes, your $5 really can help!), you can visit "Remembering Mazha"

In my life... I loved you more.

As our family approached the seven month anniversary of Mazhas passing, we were hit with another emotional blow. Her sister, my “Auntie” Carol was admitted to the hospital because of issues with her heart, which due to complications, affected other organs.

Kensington and I had a prearranged flight to Texas, to remember Mazha on her birthday (tomorrow). But earlier last week Auntie Carol was moved from the hospital to hospice. The same facility Mazha was cared for in. I received the call at work from my Simone, my sister, who with emotion stuck in the hollows of her throat, told me that she was in hospice… and in room 103 - across from where Mazha passed.

I wrapped up things at work, changed my flight, and headed ‘home’ on this past Thursday. The past three trips home haven’t been pleasant… all arranged with an delicate mission to accomplish - a diseased to diagnose, a last Christmas to celebrate and a funeral to plan. This trip wasn’t going to be much different.

There are places I remember. All my life… though some have changed.
Some forever, not for better… Some have gone and some remain.

Initially, walking into hospice on Thursday I was fine, until we hit the Chapel. I tried to swallow and couldn’t. We got to the nurses station and were greeted with recognized smiles. We turned the corner and passed the kitchen - tears flowed uncontrollably. Moms room was just inches away. Billy Strait was occupying her former bed. (Unfortunately, the next day the bed was once again open).

All these places have their moments. With lovers and friends I still can recall. Some are dead and some are living, in my life I've loved them all.

With a quick smear of the tears with the back of my hand, we entered Auntie Carol’s room. That afternoon, she was somewhat lucid - knowing that we were in the room, shaking her head to let us know that she understood what we were saying, all while her eyes remained closed.

Friday, Kensington accompanied us. She knew the building like she was in it yesterday. “Phhhish” she called out as we approached the ‘quite room’ that houses the aquarium. The pitter-patter of her feet running down the hall to the playroom aroused the nurses to come and find her. They had been waiting for her arrival for days - recognizing the family from the moment Carol was admitted - and asking when “lil diva” would be arriving.

Saturday… Sunday… Monday… Tuesday - each day her responsiveness was getting slower until there was no more. On Monday we were told her vitals lead them to believe it would be anywhere between “ two hours to two days”. Today, seven months to the day that Mazha left us (just before 2pm), she passed away. Wrapped in love with her own version on Lois… she was comforted in her final days by “Flint”.

Though I know I'll never lose affection…for people and things that went before. I know I'll often stop and think about them. In my life I love them all.

Talking to heaven...

Dear Paul,

I am glad that I am able to bring you comfort. I wanted to pass on the comfort which I received from God throughout my lifetime. Life is filled with pain, life, death, joy, suffering, surprise, and a whole host of other things. One thing I learned was that God does not change through circumstances and emotions. Each stitch in the quilt represents each tear that I have shed over my lifetime. Tears of sorrow and tears of joy. As you wrap yourself in me, you are wrapping yourself in the comfort that God had given me. Count the stitches... The Bible says that God collects and saves our tears in jars...how precious! May you continue to fine comfort in my quilt and pass it, along with your tears, to someone who needs that same comfort.

With love,
Lois

[Lois... words can not express my sincere gratitude for your post]