Nick, this is your mother speaking

Don't strike out looking.....

by Denise Novaky on 07/18/13

Dear Nick:

The other day somebody asked me how I was able to go back to work so quickly after you left this life for a better one. People ask me how I get out of bed each day with the memory of such a heavy tragedy on my back.

I thought about it and remembered ..... At the scene, I asked Chief Spitzer, "Is my son dead?" He answered plainly, "yes." I respect and am grateful for his forthrightness. I was immediately looking into a horrible abyss. The abyss of a tragedy and there was a monster staring back at me. I knew I had a decision to make.

I could become the monster; forever angry that my son was taken from me too early. I could slip into the abyss, drink wine with the monster, and growl at the fates, or God, or the Grandfather Spirit, or the universe that were so unjust.

I could fear the monster and forever hide in the shadows; disallowing myself to feel grief. I could make myself anesthesized to feelings and forget.

If I took those options, this life would pass by untouched by anything I could offer. I would strike out.....looking.

I would not become the monster. I would not hide from the monster. I faced the monster and looked him squarely in the eye.

I will not become the monster.

I will not fear the monster.

I will not allow the monster to destroy me.

I will grieve, love, & remember you, my son, with joy & sadness. I am joyful that you touched so many lives with happiness; I grieve your memory. I will celebrate your life.

I will use my voice. I will shine my light. I will stand.

I may strike out but the whoosh of my swing will always be heard as I follow through with all my strength.

When my time in this realm is done, I will see you again and we'll discuss our lives over the best feast the heavens can offer.

Bring happiness to us now from the heavens, my son. Watch over us and remember,

I am forever and always your mother and that of your brother, Ben.

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Vincent's Ear. Installment #3

by Denise Novaky on 07/13/13

Did you know that van Gogh spoke several languages and was deeply concerned about the human condition as well as man's connection with God? He studied theology but was concerned because he did not believe the common working person could possibly benefit from a church service t presented in Latin, the standard of the day. He became a missionary in a coal mining community and lived among the families of poor, hardworking coal miners providing spiritual support.

Eventually, van Gogh attended the Academie Royale des Beaux-Arts in Belgium whereupon his artisitc talents and interests blossomed. He interacted regularly with other, now-famous painters, such as Gauguin, Bermard, & Toulouse-Lautrec. Van Gogh had a significant relationship with Gauguin who may very likely have lopped off van Gogh's ear in contrast to the story that he did it to himself. According to one account he cut off his own ear while staring at the night sky through an asylum window. Ha! Not true.

In 2009, two historians came forward after researching original writings from Gauguin and van Gogh and delving into some documented eye witness accounts as well. These historians now believe that van Gogh may have lied about the incident in order to protect Gauguin. Hans Kaufmann, one of the historians who discovered the van Gogh-Gauguin secret and co-authored the book, The Pact of Silence, explained the story in an ABC news interview that ran in Germany.

Apparently, van Gogh and Gauguin had been living together when Gauguin announced his plan to leave van Gogh for good and return to Paris. It is believed that van Gogh completely freaked out about Gauguin's plan one particular night when he and Gauguin met on the street. It seems that van Gogh attacked Gauguin, likely during a brain seizure that is known to cause aggressive behavior. Gauguin, in turn, wanted to "get away from the madman" and drew his sword. He made a move towards van Gogh and, by doing so, cut off his left ear. It is unclear whether Gauguin meant to hurt van Gogh but the researchers suspected that the incident was an accident.

Whether or not van Gogh and Gauguin had a love relationshihp, which has been postulated, or were platonic friends, van Gogh took the secret to his grave and never implicated Gauguin. I would imagine that van Gogh felt abandoned by Gauguin and angry after being jilted. Still, he did not go the

Facebook-equivalent-of-the-day with scandalous stories or other types of venom aimed at Gauguin. He did not go after Gauguin's next lover and "warn" that individual about possibly losing body parts. Hmmmm.... He was hurt and angry but continued to respect his friend and the relationship they once enjoyed.

It appears that, after being jilted by Gauguin, he stopped, sat back, thought, and Became Awesome. I think van Gogh was incredibly empathic with his fellow man. He realized that the poor and uneducated could not possibly benefit from a church service spoken in Latin. He likely realized that Gauguin had no intention of harming him and did not take advantage of the opportunity to ruin his reputation.

"An artist needn't be a clergyman...but he certainly must have a warm hears for h is fellow men" Vincent van Gogh..

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How about Joan? Installment #2

by Denise Novaky on 06/24/13

Dear Nick,

This is your mother speaking:

I wrote about Howard Hughes two (2) posts ago because he was cool, successful, smart, and unafraid to take reasonable risks although his reputation was battered through history. Another individual who I think fits the category: Joan of Arc. Joan's legacy bore the brunt of the historical stick that battered her to be remembered as insane. I would like to set the record straight.

Joan of Arc was born in a French peasant village in 1412. Historical documents report her assertion that she began hearing the voices of God and the Saints when she was 12 years old. Historians make the interesting point that her behavior was similar to that of other visionaries of the time. That is, she was extremely faithful to God, reported direct communication with Him, and depended upon her own individual spiritual experiences as opposed to reliance upon the Church.

In 1428, French and English royalty were arguing about land possession. Joan's village was caught in the cross hairs of the fight and many villagers evacuated their homes. Joan tried to fight for her village when she was a mere 16 years of age but was sent home. I can only imagine that the warriors of the time laughed her back to some dirt road from whence she came ending the night with ale and lewd comments. Apparently, Joan neither shrank away to cry into her pillow nor posted some angry come-back with the town crier. Undaunted, she returned ready for battle the next year. She convinced the French ruler to provide her with an army and weapons; perhaps the war was progressing poorly and no further laughter was to be heard. Truly pre-dating Frank Sinatra's claim to "My Way," Joan refused to rely upon the conventional warfare strategies used by the French at the time. She believed they were ineffectively cautious and under-aggressive. That little point of view must have raised some eyebrows! At any rate, Joan led the military to success in three (3) battles. She was shot through the neck in the third battle but returned to fight.

After some political manipulation and deception, Joan was captured. French attempts to save her were unsuccessful and the English refused to trade her for money. It would appear that Joan's talent for strategic warfare was too valuable to send back to the enemy; she was, it would seem, priceless. Unlike other female prisoners who were guarded by nuns, Joan was kept in a secular prison with male guards. She wore trousers that were well-tied in layers in an attempt to protect herself from rape. I think her attempts were likely unsuccessful; the warriors who she had previously stunned into submission probably needed some way to regain their ego and foolhardy feeling of mastery.

Joan was convicted of cross-dressing after a trial fraught with payoffs and an agenda of revenge. She was burnt at the stake when she was 29 years old.

"One life is all we have and we live as we believe in living it. But to sacrifice what you are and to live without belief, that is a fate more terrible than dying." -- Joan of Arc.

And I bet you thought she was just some crazy chick!

Forever, the mom to Ben and Nick.

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One Year

by Denise Novaky on 06/19/13

Dear Nick, this is your mother speaking:

Somewhere between 8-9 pm this evening it will officially be one solid year since you have ascended into that realm about which I and others of flesh and bone know incredibly little. How is it that a full year after an event of such pain could fly away so quickly? One would think that the heartache that I feel everyday would make the time seem painstakingly slow. It didn't.

This year has shown me a great many things. Your friends are relentlessly loyal to your memory and hold you close to their hearts. The people of your town never stop giving support. The people of the Mt. Olive your father and I knew when we graduated Mt. Olive High School in 1976 remain our family. Your father, brother, and I are stronger than the pain that destiny gave us. We survived. We survived intact, a little bruised maybe, but intact. Our family, friends, and town supported us the nanosecond you ascended to that place where we will meet you again.

I thought today was going to be a horrible day of pain; I dreaded it like one feels the agony of an upcoming dental visit with no planned anesthetic. The day was not horrible. It was not painful. It was filled with love. I planted flowers around the tree; Mrs. Hildebrant added to those that I purchased at not cost. The town came, in ones and twos and threes.....family came. We told stories. We laughed. Jay painted a mural on an abandoned sign and, when he cleared away the brush below, we found rocks edging off a perfect garden. It was as if that garden was waiting all these years for the opportunity to grow flowers once again.

So, my wonderful Nick, after much contemplation and research there is one thing of which I am absolutely sure: Your flesh and blood is dead but somewhere, in some realm, you live. I am a scientist and yet I know you live. The data is scarce but, as one of my colleagues so aptly said, it would be a breach of the scientific method to ignore the sound data collected about the existence of the afterlife. And so, it is with a loud voice and wondrous burst of faith that I remind all those who love you:

I cannot say, and I will not say

That he is dead--. He is just away!

With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand

He has wandered into an unknown land,

And left us dreaming how very fair

It needs must be, since he lingers there.

And you-- O you, who the wildest yearn

For his old-time step and the glad return--,

Think of him faring on, as dear

In the love of There as the love of Here;

And loyal still, as he gave the blows

Of his warrior-strength to his team's foes--.

Mild and gentle, as he was brave--,

When the sweetest love of his life he gave

To simple things--: Where the violets grew

Soft as his heart they were likened to,

The little brown bird that harshly chirped

Was as dear to him as the mocking-bird;

And he pitied as much as a man in pain

As a writhing honey-bee wet with rain--.

Think of him still as the same, I say:

He is not dead-- he is just away!

James Whitcomb Riley (wtih a couple of momma changes)

Forever and always,

the mother to Nick and Ben

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Which way to go?

by Denise Novaky on 06/12/13

Nick, this is your mother speaking:

So, what path in life should we pursue? Wealth? Fame? Happy family? Sometimes I think we never know where we are going to end up until after we get there. Then, upon arrival, we look around and decide whether to head toward another gate in the airline terminal of life. Should we catch a shuttle into the city or hail a taxi for places elsewhere? No matter where we direct the plane, shuttle, taxi, or stage coach, we should be compassionate and kind and live an honest life. I believe we should join with our fellow inhabitants of this spinning rock to help each other survive. Like it or not, we are here, together, on Earth. Until we inhabit Mars and decide to mass murder the land there, we have no other place to go. We might as well make our Earth bound trip as pleasant as possible for ourselves and the others sharing the roller coaster ride.

The Dali Lama said

Our prime purpose in this life is to help others

And, if you cannot help them,

at least don't hurt them.

In this and the next two blog entries, I will write about each of three (3) individuals who we tend to see in a negative light. Each of these individuals have been bullied by publicity that did not provide equal press to the positive. The reputation of these individuals have been battered through history by those of us who joined in the name-calling and did not confront negative press.

Howard Hughes

I am a Howard Hughes fan. He was a smart and courageous tycoon who did not give a crap about anyone's opinion of him. Hughes was a young man in his 20s when he wrote, directed, and produced the movie, Hell's Angels. The film was the first of its kind to depict an airplane dogfight from the pilot's perspective. It was massively expensive to produce; the competition in Hollywood predicted it was an impossible feat.

Typically irreverent, Huges seemed to respond to these seasoned Hollywood moguls with a sarcastic laugh. He filmed the movie not once, but twice, upon deciding to abandon the silent version for one of the first "talkie" films. Hell's Angels was a hit even though Hughes took a one million dollar loss. As per today's lingo, "whatever!" Hughes took a risk, the movie was a hit, and Hughes could afford the loss. (Photoplay Magazine, April, 1930).

"I'm not a paranoid millionaire, goddamit,

I'm a billionaire."-Howard Hughes

How many of us would have had the confidence and clarity to equal Howard Hughes, even if we had the cash? How many of us would have shrunk in fear being a 20-something with a dream while experienced movie producers laughing in our faces? I have not even mentioned Howard Hughes' pioneering efforts in aviation or his financial donations to the Howard Hughes Medical institute, one of the largest non-profit facilities in the US providing medical research from private funding.

So, who is crazy? Is Howard Hughes crazy or should we take a good look at ourselves when we point fingers at him. Could you have accomplished as much as he? I'll tell you....with or without the money, he's put the bar too high for me to grab!

As always I am

forever the mother to Nick and Ben

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