Christmas with Andrew

January 3rd was our Christmas day. We wanted to wait until Andrew could celebrate with us. Having him home again was an immeasurable blessing. Our initial hug allowed my body to breathe deeply again. His sweet dirty face, tired eyes, tousled hair and mismatched attire was never more beautiful. Steve and I held the following moments sacred, as we sat together listening to his the highlights of his days away. Radiating with smiles, chuckles and gestures of affection he brought us into his life. Through wide-eyed glances, toothy grins, spontaneous smooches and healing hugs, my family was whole again and so was I.

Enjoying every moment through the magnifying glass that accompanies great appreciation, Steve, Andrew, my Mom and I had dinner at home, opened gifts, and toasted my Mom’s birthday. A favorite dinner was prepared: corned beef, red potatoes, brown-sugared carrots, fresh cherries tomatoes, salad and lemon bars for dessert. Every plate was clean and all tummies were full.

Our gift exchange was calm, appreciative and loving. We took turns opening one gift at a time.
Andrew, positioning himself at each of our sides, basking in our pleasure as each present was revealed. It wasn’t an option to purchase big items or gifts with heavy price tags. Our spendy flights home were our gifts. To my joy, there was no feeling of lack. Even as I write this now, Andrew is sitting in the “inspiration chair” finishing up the second of two Encyclopedia Brown books we gave him. The small Lego set was hit and Steve and Andrew spent the following two nights working side by side to successfully create this motorcycle. I downloaded a simplified version of Fur Elise, a Beethoven piano piece. This is a song that Andrew listens nightly when he goes to sleep and has expressed interest in learning to play. He was overjoyed by this one sheet of music. Santa brought one gift for both Steve and Andrew, an intricate F-12 model airplane. Something they can do during the rainy days of winter in Alaska. Mom was more than generous in her gift giving. Highlights were a 50 year metal calendar that fits in the palm of your hand, prayer books that she used when she was a little girl, a pair of binoculars and a U.S. states coin set...we have every coin except Alaska :) Steve’s parents gave us a science game called “Cogno” and we have played it every day since we opened it. Did you know there is no center of the universe?
From the time Andrew came home, during dinner and our throughout our exchange it was wonderfully unhurried, perfectly delightful and entirely thoughtful. It supported my heart’s desire to have Christmas more represent the beautiful qualities of Christ and less the obligatory hype. Wishes do come true.

Singing at St. Mary's School in Albany

Last year, my sister Loree was asking Mom for help in procuring gifts for the

her daughter's school auction. I wanted to help her , so I offered a recital package as an auction item. It was eagerly purchased by one of the staff members and today's recital for the school was the culmination of our efforts.

One hundred students, ages five to fourteen, listened to Mom and I perform everything from opera arias to musical theater. We ended with a sing-a-long to America the Beautiful. Their angelic voices joining mine was heart-warming.

Mary Anne, my niece is the on the far right. She said that all her friends loved the concert. She admitted she was little nervous as to how her friends would react to her aunt singing opera, since all them them listen to Pop music...after the concert she gave me a big hug of relief and told me how even Jeff Servey thought I was cool.

A close up of the beautiful flowers they presented to Mom and me.

Mom has been my accompanist since I first started singing at the age of eight. She changed my life by giving me the priceless gift of music and the courage to share my voice with others. I always appreciate the opportunity to perform with my mom. Today she gave me her support and the chance to give songs we love away to the precious children of St. Mary's school. Thank you, Mom!

Family time with my sister Loree

Mom, Andrew and I traveled north on I-5 Thursday to spend a few days with my sister Loree in Jefferson. We came to visit, deliver Christmas gifts, celebrate birthdays and sing a rectial at my niece's, Mary Anne, school.

When we arrived at Loree's home, my nephew Cutris was there with his sweet daughter Miriam. She is my new best friend. Her adorable smile captured my heart at first grin. How could you not fall in love with that face!















We sang "happy birthday" to Jonathan and Gianna, two of Jessica's children, ages three and ten. Enjoyed lots of cake, ice cream and presents.

Andrew and Jessica's son, James, who is also ten, had a great time playing hide-n-seek and football.

Top Row: Dennis (Lorree's Husband), Vance (Jessica's Husband), T.J. (Jessica's Step-son) Nathan (Loree's Son), Loree (my Sister)
Second Row: Gianna (Jessica's Step-daughter), Jessica (Loree's Daughter),
Brady (Jessica's Step-son), Tricia (Loree's Daughter) Mary Anne (Loree's Daughter)
Third Row: James (Jessica's Son), Keyan (Jessica;s Step-son)
Front: Johnathan (Jessica's Son)

Family Ties

It has been a luxury to spend my days asking myself leisurely questions of when I will meet with family, rising early to write my thoughts or looking forward to the evening time, when Steve and I settle into a good movie or a book. Though, despite its pleasure, vacation is an odd animal for me to easily welcome into my home.

“To Do’s” lists are scattered throughout the house. New ideas pop into my head and I am continually optimist of the amount of tasks I can complete in twenty-four hours. Even when I fail, I am deeply pleased because I did so amidst high expectations. Yet really, is it any wonder that I am busy making my life spin when my mother, who is now 79 runs circles around us all? I can only laugh to myself, thinking that dysfunction comes in all forms...and there is hope for me.
Until I am cured completely, I will enjoy the miracle moments of free of malady. Starting with...

Our family gatherings began on Tuesday evening. Steve’s big sister Becky invited us over to her and her husband’s house for dinner. Their Ashland home sits right across from a small cemetery. Typically, if Andrew was with us, we would arrive just a few moments early so he could test his nerve by bravely and curiously stalking through the tombs stones, but that night it was Steve and I and making a ceremonial romp through the soggy grass without Drew didn’t seem as adventurous.

Becky made us a traditional Southern dinner that is usually served on New Years to promote good health and prosperity....thank goodness for me it was a Vegan meal of savory black bean soup, rice and hearty spinach and red onion salad. I was in heaven.

Conversation was intriguing as Steve, Jim and I were able to exchange some similar Alaskan tales from the six months Jim spent as an after-school program teacher in New Hope, Alaska. Jim and Becky shared some of their stories from traveling through Vienna and Prague. We were given more insight to Jim’s obsession with the Hapsburg family of Royalty. You see, it all stemmed from a glimpse of a handsome movie star in a green uniform worn in the classic movie depicting the Hapsburg family. I was even able to pull from the couple where they met. Jim ‘fessed up that they met at church and then quickly quoted the Beatles, “And I saw her face...I’m a believer.”

Mom's Little Addiction

For those of you that don’t live in close proximity, or spend a lot of time with my mom, you may not know that she has many little addictions. Not the drinking or smoking kind, but tiny oddities that make up one very eccentric personality. She’ll readily admit to the sugar tooth or to the fact that she loves to buy and give gifts, but the one that cloaks itself as normalcy is eating out, and eating out in odd places. Dad was definitely her culprit in this and now I get the honor of witnessing her misguided pleasure.

I received a phone call from her Wednesday morning inviting me to join her for lunch at, none other than, the Providence Hospital Cafeteria. What would you say? Hospital food ranks right up there with School Lunches, and Taco Bell, none of which seems to faze my mom. I am so numb to this strangness that I don’t even blink and simply ask her, “What time?” Now, in all fairness to my mom these invites are usually prompted by coupons, another addiction. Our luncheon was funded by the hours she gives volunteering during the monthly Providence Guild Bake Sales.

Knowing that I am not going to eat much, I grab my yellow pad and decide (because of my afore mentioned sickness) that I will make this a working lunch...Mom chooses her cheese sandwich, french-fries and gooey, blonde brownie dessert. I load up a salad plate, drench the iceberg lettuce in vinegar and add a token rice-crispy treat to my tray. My yellow pad tucked safely under my arm. With a quick whip of the wrist the coupon is confiscated and as we take our seats among the nurses, doctors, patients and families. I am hard pressed at this point to decide which one of us, Mom or me, is saner.

We had a great time. Our dialogue centered on Mom sharing her list of errands, volunteer commitments and practical gift card expenditures and I talking about my agenda for the day, parenting concerns and future projects that hope to pay off. For some it may seem intense to sit and gab about action plans, others may approve, for me I am thankful that my mother and I can converse about politics, acts of serve and meeting goals. Sitting with together in the basement of the hospital feels like two lonely people of the same race joyfully meeting in a foreign country....and regardless of the environment and the fare, we speak the same language and in and of its self, it is familiar and comforting.

Happy 79th Birthday!

New Year’s Day always means a birthday celebration for Mom. Thursday Lenore turned 79 years old! Her special day started off with her playing a church service. She asked me meet her for breakfast at yet another coupon inspired destination, “Old Farm House” in White City.

Shall I set the stage for you? Dark green booths, blasting football game from the mounted TV, sizzling bacon smell from the kitchen and a thick layer of grease over everything. Most customers were either attired in hunting camo or dawned oversized rodeo belt buckles. Although, one gentleman wore a shaved head, two earrings, tattooed neck and a shirt that read F#@k the Critics (the # and @ sign are to protect your innocent eyes...his shirt proclaimed the real deal). Five teenagers straggled in the door, apparently after a night of heavy celebrating, quietly ordered huge amounts of food. Two Lesbians sat kitty corner our booth, both scooping spoonfuls of scrambled eggs on to their buttered toast and shoving it in their mouths. On my way to the bathroom, I kneeled and spoke with a plump redheaded, pierced eared nine month old whose big blue eyes and babble had me drawn in as soon as I turned the corner. I opened two hollow doors into to the powder room , only to be reminded that someday I am going to do a photo expose on restaurant bathrooms... but for now I just want you know that in the women’s room of the Old Farm House, on the back on the toilet, you can pick up an extra Avon catalog.

After breakfast we went to Ross to see if I could find a wallet, I couldn’t. Mom scooted into Catherine’s clothing store next door, to check the sales rack. While perusing the earrings and squinting sideways at an all body girdle called “Spanks”, a quite oversized sales clerk proceeded to share with us how she used to be able to fit into a micro mini in the 60’s and with a laugh added that the mini wouldn’t fit over her knee these days. A disturbing and sad confession that aggravated my well developed phobia of gaining weight. Stories and store like that petrify me.

We went home and mom took a three hour nap. Steve took a break from his project and we were able to have some of that precious down time together.

My eldest sister Lori, her husband Dennis and children Mary Anne and Patricia drove down from Jefferson to have dinner with Mom on her birthday and to visit with Dennis's mom as well. It was mom and Lori’s pick as to where we would dine and both chose the Olive Garden. It was great to visit with them. Tricia is off to Oklahoma the first of February and then on to Kuwait as a helicopter mechanic. Mary Anne is thrilled with her new bike she got for Christmas, Dennis is back to volunteering Fire Fighting in a few weeks and Lori is having fun with her new camera, “Skyping” her children and texting on her phone. We all sang happy birthday and shared a decedent dessert of chocolate cake, strawberries and custard.

Days spent with my mother are always filled with unexpected occurrences and striking conversations. I love being with her, where there is never a dull moment...unless she is napping. Here’s to our mom and many more happy and fun filled birthdays!

Part I: Biography of L.L.L.

The yellow pad I carried to Providence Hospital Cafeteria put there by divine nudging. Here is part one of the L.L. L. Biography scribbled down at during our lunch together. This is a work in progress. There are many details that will be added later....but I thought my siblings, nieces and nephews might enjoy a snapshot of Lenore Loretto Leines. If you have any questions or remember any stories please write them in the comment section of the posting.

Grandparents, Mother’s side: Patrick Regan and Henora Maloney
Patrick Regan was Henora’s second husband, her first husband died

Grandparents, Father’s side: Dr. Wilfred Weller and Molly
Weller was not really his last name. When Wilfred chose to marry Molly, he was disinherited because she was not a Catholic. He changed his last name. Mom says she has the birth certificate with the original last name, given to her by Anne Weller.

Mother: Loretto Margaret Regan

Father: Albert Kavanaugh Weller

Lenore Loretto Weller was born New Year’s Day in 1930 at Providence Hospital in Portland, Oregon. Her mother was Loretto Margaret Regan and her father was Albert Kavanaugh Weller.
She had one sibling, a brother, Wilfred or “Billy” as she called him. He was two and half year­­s older than Lenore.

As a new born, her first home was 503 Grand Avenue. Her toddler years through the first half of first grade, were spent in a duplex located on a cross street in the same neighborhood. The home where she did most of growing up was 3827 North East Davis. It was from this classic dwelling place that she made life-long friends, was tormented by her big brother, started voice lessons, graduated high school, met our father and earned her degree from Lewis and Clark College.

Lenore entered first grade at Holy Rosary Elementary, yet half way through the year her parents moved to Davis Street, putting her in All Saints School district. Instead of finishing out the first grade, Loretto and Albert made the choice to advance Lenore into the second grade.
In the classrooms and on the play ground of All Saints she made fast friends, both boys and girls, among them: Dorothy Bush Orth, Anne Marie Zenner Harrington, and Joann Pinder. These young ladies, Lenore still corresponds with today. She enjoyed her Catholic education and has no personal scars to share from being taught my Nuns. In addition, she confidently confirms that the fact that Norman Foster was forced to wear a dunce hat and stand in the wastepaper basket in the closet did him no harm. I wonder what Norman Foster would have to say about that.

It was in the fifth grade that Lenore tried her one and only cigarette. It was fashionable and glamorous and inspired by her collection of movie star pictures. Craving to act grown-up and famous-eque, she and her friends went behind the church with a cigarette and match taken from the neighborhood boys. She took a few puffs. Mortified with how awful it tasted and how badly she smelled, she ran directly home and apologized to her mother.

Music was embedded in Lenore’s day in form of records, concerts and church services but her formal lessons began for her and her brother when Lenore was in the fourth grade. Mom describes her teacher, Nelly Tholan, as a mean, giant of a woman, who would slap her fingers incessantly with a ruler to keep them in the correct position. She shares that she hated playing the piano until she was in college. It was then that she finally was able to use her years of training to make extra money playing for ballet classes and church services. She now thanks her mother wholeheartedly for the gift of music and the opportunity to earn a living doing something she loves. This skill later landed her a job as the church organist at the Veterans Domiciliary, where she has worked every Sunday and holidays for the last 34 years.

Mom’s trained singing lessons also began in Nelly Tholan’s studio. Lenore was 12. She learned soprano songs with ease and began performing after only a few hours of instruction. As she grew in her technique she was taken under the instruction of Mrs. Ellis, a refined, stately woman that would be her vocal mentor and dear friend until her death in the 90’s. With Mrs. Ellis guidance Lenore’s voice and stage presence blossomed. She was known for sweet and stunning renditions of , “One Kiss” ending on an easily placed high c, “Love is Where You Find It” with fast moving coloratura sections, “The Lord’s Prayer” and “Summertime” adding a her own heartfelt interpretation to the phrases. Her repertoire included many well-loved classic operas arias and art songs.

Lenore was a born performer. Having grown up listening to the Metropolitan Opera every Saturday morning on the radio and watching the best opera singers perform in concert, she used what she had learned from those experiences and coupled with her own dynamic and care-free personality to captivate audiences from banquet halls to the nationally broadcast Ted Mack radio show. Five foot six, one hundred and twenty pounds, dark naturally wavy hair, arched eyebrows framing blue eyes and fast big smile, Lenore’ petite frame held a huge love for life, people and the stage.