Apr 3, 2015

Good Friday Reflections

Good Friday Reflections - I used to love going to church, singing hymns, reading and hearing sermons.  I used to love being in the community with others who came together for similar purposes as I did.  I used to love the Maundy Thursday reading of the Last Supper passages and reenactments the little churches I’ve participated in portrayed from one year until the next.

I would dress for church “appropriately” in “church attire” and I would get there early to get a good seat, aka my seat.  With or without my Vinnie, I’d be there each day in Holy week to connect to and be reminded of and to fall in love with Jesus all over again. I did this to appreciate Him and to try and grasp the meanings behind the Passion of the Christ. 

I used to love to tell the story and the Gospel according to Denise. I know it sounds wrong but its so. The Gospel according to each one of us individually matters.

I used to weep on Good Friday. I used to go to church a lot. I miss having the love of going to church that I once carried in every fiber of my being.  I don’t know when I lost it.  Was it when I was struck with a depression? Did I make a mistake being employed by two different churches?  Did I get too involved in committee work?  Was it because of when I was a kid? I haven’t been able to trace it. But I know that I don’t love church so much anymore. 

I don’t like rushing to get out the door in time, or dressing up. I don’t like to feel alone and I don’t like to be in a community where I am reminded of things that have separated me from what was once experienced as Grace. We are powerless over other people, places and things and I am reminded not to hold a grudge so I let go and I release and I pray and I find there is comfort in prayer and in like-minded community. But, I miss loving church and singing hymns.  I miss the enjoyment of hearing sermons. 

Oh and I do miss the passion I had. Perhaps it was the exuberance of youth?  I miss how the longing in my heart would somehow be filled with an assurance that goes beyond explanation.  And I miss the way my heart would break and mend all at the same time with the reading of Jesus’ words from the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” The words assured because those words remind me that I had not been singled out to suffer for some major or minor sin that created a separation between my heart and the Messiah’s. 

In the emptiest moment of the afternoon most Good Fridays, I will sit quietly and now alone while I contemplate the reason and purpose for my life’s mission.  I am reminded today of how many times I have been loved and reassured by good church folk that while there is the dark night, there is also the bright morning.  I am reminded of the folks I’ve sat with over the years and tried to witness or reassure them in a time of need.  It is a lonely wait that calls us from today until Easter Morning.  It’s lonely for each one of us. Even so, we are not alone.


Today I feel I am walking a forsaken walk and I wish I didn’t feel the call to share so personal a story. But I know this for certain, I answer the call , “Here I am, send me.” because experience has shown me time and again that this truth telling - my truth - is the best way for me.  It’s through the cross and beyond to a glorious new beginning again and again. See you in church.  Maybe…    

Nov 11, 2013

Promise's Story

This is an update I have been avoiding because we are down to one dog now.



Promise who is six is learning to live indoors for the first time. She's spent her days outdoors fenced in and nights in a dog house while having puppies annually. She is content being indoors and is never shy about heading up to the door to return inside after her walks.

The ear infection she had is cleared up. That has to feel better. She is learning to "go" while attached to a leash too. It's the little things that make a difference. She's learning words - when I asked what commands she knew I was surprised there were none. She knew her name only.

With more tears than I thought would fall the puppy has gone to a new home.  He is with a family who recently lost their 13 year old Blue Merle Collie named Blue. 

Even though it was a difficult decision for us we are pleased the little guy is at a loving home. We miss him a lot though mama Promise is relishing the attention and a well deserved rest. She stopped looking for him the 2nd day. Oh be still my heart. 

Stay tuned for more stories as Promise grows accustomed to being a Diva in CT & Ptown MA. 

Oct 19, 2013

Promises - Promise's


Promise & her little Baby Face


Sunday was a great day to go for a drive. Vin and I jumped on I84 toward North Chelmsford, MA. We were meeting Promise this beautiful sable rough collie who will be six in December. We were early and stopped at an Applebee's for lunch before our 1:00 meeting. 

Promise has been looking for her forever home. She gave birth to a litter of four sable roughs in early August.

There were 3 perfect female puppies and 1 male puppy born. The male is the 8-10 wk old recently weaned pup in the picture. He is blind in one eye and wanted a fur-ever home too.

The moment we met his mama - this little guy rushed over to me then to Vin rapidly chewing and untying both our pairs of shoes. Then, he did it again and again. So very grateful for our Sunday drive last weekend. We were back on the road nearly 3 hours later and had a nice visit. Guess what? The dogs are ours now. The duo will be coming home to live with us shortly. We are making arrangements!
Baby Face is on the left

Oct 10, 2013

Congratulations Westport Pizzeria Celebrating 45 Years


 Westport Pizzeria Celebrating 45 Years With 25 Cent Slices -
This Saturday, October 12, 11-5 p.m. counter service.

 I well remember the early days at the pizza place on Main Street in Westport when I was a teen.  Pizza there was 25 cents a slice - I had mine with mushrooms and extra cheese so that brought it up to 45 cents - add a diet coke and I was in pizza heaven.

 Frank Mioli was barely out of diapers at the time when I first met the Mioli family.  Frank hit me in the head with a spit ball and got in big trouble with his mother, Carolyn Mioli. 

Today, when I look at Mel and Joe, it is hard to believe 45 years have passed.  They look so much like they did then.


Rita Mioli and a family relation Nina worked the counter on Saturday’s.  They delivered what is likely the first pizza delivery from Westport Pizzeria. The location? It was to the VFW Hall on Riverside Avenue on August 19, 1972. Rita and Nina were both invited to the wedding but only one was able to take the day off – Both gals worked and together delivered a large pizza to the party. It was a great and memorable surprise.

Rita Mioli Carolini and her late husband, Lino are Godparents to our first born. The Mioli Familia is very near and dear to our hearts. John & Tina, Rina, Alicia, Kerri, Gino, Lina, Anthony, all of you are what makes the Pizzeria THE place to go for a slice! Congratulations. 

Ciao – from the Costabile’s

Photos from Mioli family photos.

Oct 3, 2013

Thinking Something Is True Doesn't Make It So


I thought I was being kind to myself when I let up on the self care routine I had been following. Using angst as a pass to consume ice cream and food items that are not in my best interest in lieu of healthy carbohydrates was dumb.  As I tried to reign in sadness of loss I lost sight of important truths.

I do not need the ice cream. I do not need the extra bagel in the meal plan either but I wanted them, immediately.  An occasional splurge is okay but it is not okay for me to have a daily reward system in the name of self soothing.

Food is not my friend. It is not my comfort. It is fuel - period.  Any other tag I want to put on a high carb count food it is a lie. I've had enough swings up and down the glucose meter and weight scales of obesity to know the difference between serving sizes, calories, fat grams, fiber, points, carbohydrate counts and so on. The pass I gave to myself was not binge eating, it was out of control eating, it was irresponsible weight monitoring and blatant disregard for my health.  I was screwing around where a smart woman should be proactively faithful.

Have you ever fooled yourself into believing you are not 'cheating' on your plan of eating?   I switched to many organic products. That's a good thing, right?

My dairy is free of hormones and the meat is fresh from local farmers. I'd tell myself "I'm doing a good thing." But, to be completely honest  I admit to you (and myself) that I have not been thoughtful or kind to my body, period.  My type 2 diabetes is not under good control.

I started this blog early in September while I continued irresponsible self care practices a while longer. My average BG #'s increased enough to put my A1-C at 6.4 or average of 160.  A "normal" reading would fall below 99 points. Twenty points above the range I have tried keep to reads failure.  Two hours after a meal when glucose numbers are generally at their highest level, I aim for 140. It is recommended by my doctor that I not swing more than 20 points either way in a day.  If the numbers are too high, cardio exercise and drinking water are the immediate aid to lowering the number.

A return to 'normalcy' began after several daily blood glucose tests were made. I was guided from one step to the next using the tools I already had available to me.  I turned to these: Friends,  Glucose monitor, test strips, exercise 30 minutes a day, low carbohydrate meals, blood work with a follow-up appointment with the doctor on the calendar.

Type 2 diabetes takes work and cooperation with my higher self. I used to think I will beat this diagnosis but I never have quite believed it.  I am working on those thoughts.  I want to BEAT this diagnosis.  I pray I will.  Some have been able to, so I am told.  In the mean time, I will not take time off for the good behavior. A successful run of good habits doesn't add up to a 'spending spree' of carbs and calories. This can be done a day at a time.