The beginning of the year is usually filled with hope and new beginnings. Everyone sends their own personal message to ring in the New Year. I usually write, “May success come to you as quickly as I speak.” One friend’s quote particularly stuck out in my mind, he wrote, “May you not need a doctor or a lawyer.” I read that out loud to my mom and said, ‘Great, we need both!” My mom and I laughed, not realizing how true this was all about to become.

As many of you know, my mom, Rose went into Jamaica Hospital March 26th of last year with an incarcerated hernia. She survived the eight-hour emergency surgery and was supposed to be out of the hospital in a few weeks but three C-Diff infections, blood clots and dehydration kept her prisoner in the hospital until September 10th. Finally we both had enough and I planned her escape.

She came up to my house in Putnam and she made a fantastic comeback. Within a month she was going to the bathroom by herself and went from walker to cane to independence. I fed her healthy foods, changed her stomach wound daily and watched positive healing tapes with her. I took her to her weekly doctors visits and we even got out a few times to get our nails done and a massage. The doctors were amazed. Anything is possible with love and determination.

As an added incentive, I surprised my mom by having a new kitchen built (with the help of my friend Dale) in our Howard Beach home. The plan was to have her back in Queens by the end of February.

My family all spent New Year’s together at my house in Putnam. We laughed, ate and played board games. Life was good. At night, since my mom and I shared the same bedroom, we would talk, joke, and confide in each other. My mother truly was my best friend. In fact, except for the one year I lived with my boyfriend in Ossining, I had always lived with my mom, separate apartments but still the same house. Hell, I even had my two husbands move into my home the two times I was married.

On January 6th, I drove mom to Queens to see her Christmas present. We blindfolded her. She had no clue that it was a kitchen. She was so surprised!

She said she couldn’t wait to be totally healthy and go home and cook manicotti for all of us. It was a great moment.

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Those of you who have been following my blog for a couple of years know that I have been with my boyfriend, Steve on and off (mostly on) for 8 years.

We have tried to break off, but have been unsuccessful…so we decided we obviously love each other and are on this planet to teach each other a lesson…me to learn from him how to relax a bit more, and him to learn from me, how to have passion for life. (It’s either that or we both figured that our parents who are both in heaven have a very sick sense of humor and want to see how our relationship plays out.)

Our relationship started online – even before that was the trendy thing to do. To me it was the ultimate in “male order”.
I had an ad posted at love@aol.com. I was happy getting tons of emails from would be suitors. Out of the blue, my friend Laz sees a profile on Steve, a simple two- line profile that stated he was single, a pilot, liked to scuba dive, lived in Queens, and owned a PC. That was it.

I was hesitant to write because I don’t like approaching guys first. But she persuaded me to email him. Turns out he was smart, spiritual and also had a daughter. So we each were single parents.

I asked him to send a picture. That’s when the trouble began.

He said taking pictures for him was like root canal without the Novocain.

But he agreed to send pictures… of body parts…not as in axe murderer style…but as in put the pieces of a puzzle together. So first he sent a picture of his eyes, then the chest…and then the third picture…a picture that stopped me in my tracks. It was disgusting! He sent me a picture of his butt, a huge gigantic butt. I panicked. I didn’t want to speak to him.

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