La Famiglia

For those who only know me virtually, a little background.  I am the oldest of three.  I have a sister who is two years younger and a brother who is 12 years younger (side note, he looks WAY older than he is).  Being the oldest, I have often felt it was my duty to hold the family together and set a good example for the children. Four months ago, as we all know, I was whisked away to the charming south as a newly married bride, where frankly it is harder to keep an eye on them.

At first, I wasn't that concerned.  I said to myself, they are all adults, they can take care of themselves.  But secretly, I worried.  My dad started looking into getting an old car and talking lovingly about a 1940 Packard. You know how sometimes your gut just tells you something is wrong?  I thought to myself, this car is a bad seed. I hoped the deal would fall through, but no luck.

Oh Friends!  The calls started getting fewer and farther between, and when I did hear from them it was collect calls from pay phones with hacking coughs and sirens blasting through the bad connection.  Dad said that what sounded like gun fire was just the Packard backfiring.  Little did I know how bad it had gotten.  I got an email with these pictures from Danny the other day and I was shocked at what I saw.

When I left my dad was an upstanding man who I had NEVER seen with a cigarette.  I'm sorry to tell you this cigarette isn't even filtered!  Even worse, (I can hardly say it!) my little bearded baby has been corrupted.

And excuse me, am I imagining things, or is he actually packing HEAT!?!

I see that my mom has avoided the smoking, but I can hardly say that I'm comforted.

I'm just so saddened by this picnic.  

These are direct quotes from my dad:

"Tell Sarah we've been on an extended road trip and business has been very good.  Since I'm getting older now, Danny went along to assist with the driving.  I bought the Packard after all because it has a bigger engine and more room and this has been a big help in the business.  Things have been a little stressful on the road so I started smoking again.  Your mother is happy now that the money is flowing in again like water."

When I knew him, my dad just collected some coins here and there.  What in the world have they been doing to have a bag full of Benjamins and need guns, for heaven's sake?  

Needless to say, I'm worried sick about this state of affairs.  I'm hoping this blog will be a wake up call for them.  Family members who live nearby, please see if you can talk to them, for the child's sake.

A Saturn in the Sun

Sometimes it takes a tragedy to help us to know what is important in life.  Lately, as you've noticed, I've let my priorities get all out of order.  My volunteering has started to pick up some speed and I have neglected the tens of twenties of virtual friends who read my blog.  Have I no heart!?!  There is no excuse and I know it.  I got out there in the world and started having a legitimate reason to leave the house three days a week and I just lost my head.  

And then tragedy struck today.  A different heroine,

(Even here she looks a little sad, as if she knows something is coming)

in a different city,

who is my lovely cousin and partner in crime, 

woke up to bad news...

Her vintage car, the delight of her eyes had been stolen, kidnapped right out from under her.  This precious 1993 slate blue Saturn, 

that never said an unkind word to anyone was ripped from her without warning.  This car, that had carried her and all her worldly belongings faithfully and without grumbling from Idaho to California to start a new adventure mere months ago, is now somewhere lost and alone.  I hate to think where our little friend is tonight.  In my mind, a starving mechanic with 10 kids stole her to take his youngest son, Timmy, to the hospital in time for a life saving operation and will return it with an oil change this week as soon as Timmy gets out of the ICU.  

As soon as I told Sam the news of this tragedy, he just looked at me and said, "It's time for my vigil shirt."

We light a candle tonight for you, sweet '93 Saturn.  We remember our happy times riding in you.  We remember 1993 when we sang "I Will Always Love You" with Whitney Houston,  and "The Sign" with Ace of Base, when we taped Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman,  and read John Grisham into the wee hours of the night.

And we say this prayer...

Prayer for Lost Cars 

(adapted from the prayer for lost pets)

Father
We ask you to help us find Megan's Saturn,
our dear car who is now lost.
We know that you placed cars on the earth
for many reasons, including companionship for man.
We therefore ask you to help us find our lost companion,
and pray that You will keep him (her) safe
and protect him (her) from harm until he (she) is found.

We love you Megan!!