Sylvia Ann Turns Seventy

Today is my mother’s 70th birthday and although I could think of a few things she’d like more, I’m hoping the gift of words will be enough for now. Her favorite gift will come in a week’s time when our whole family – all 20+ of us – will gather in my sister’s backyard for dinner and drinks and dancing. Cutting a rug with her grandbabies, sons, daughters and in-laws is her idea of heaven!

A few months back, my parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. They renewed their vows in front of family and friends with a big celebratory dinner. At one point in the evening, my siblings and I, along with our spouses, each shared a few words about what their marriage has taught us.

How had we grown and benefitted from their love and commitment to each other and to our family?

As you can imagine, we talked about love, loyalty, commitment, hard work, inclusion and integrity. You don’t make it fifty years without knowing a thing or two about those qualities. It was hard for me to decide what to speak on, because I wanted to talk about ALL THE THINGS. (No surprise there, I’m sure.)  But what I landed on was faith, and that brief reflection is probably one of my mom’s favorite things I have ever written. So, in honor of the woman who raised me, I’m sharing it here today with all of you.

If you ask my mom, her family is the best thing she’s ever done, and if you ask any of us, we’d probably agree. Our mom taught us that Love was never just a feeling. You had to live it out too through service, loyalty, and sacrifice. She embodies the art of “showing up,” sticking to your guns, speaking the truth (as you see it), and then releasing the outcome, because she loves you so damn much. My mom lives by the motto that with God, and with her, you get “forever tries.”

Happy birthday, Mama!

Sylvia’s Squad on June 10. 2017. She’s the short one in the middle, between my dad and me.

50th Anniversary Speech

I had a whole other speech planned for today that I was really excited about, but I had a light bulb moment this past week. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it before, but sometimes a thing is so obvious, you can’t even see it. It is the ground you walk on and the air you breathe. It’s synonymous with your very existence. Your life simply wouldn’t be your life without it.

And as the eight of us were preparing for today and staking out our topics so we wouldn’t repeat each other, we forgot this one, which for me, is the foundation of everything else they gave us and that is their FAITH. Not so much their faith in each other, but their FAITH in God, their faith in something larger than themselves, their faith in the power of Love.

Of course, my parents’ Catholicism is important to them and as their children, being Catholic gave shape to our entire lives – what we did, and how we learned, who we hung out with and eventually, who we became. In turn, it has shaped the way each of us has raised our own children. But what I so appreciate about my parents’ faith was that it didn’t stop at the church door. Catholicism was the home in which my parents worshipped, but it wasn’t the only place God was found.

My parents’ faith was never just about how you spent your Sundays. It was never just about your outside behavior, saying the right prayers or doing, (or not doing) the perfect thing. Our faith informed our lives – day in and day out – in how we spent our time, the books we read, the music we listened to and the talks we had.

But most importantly, their faith in God animated how we treated each other.  They insisted on respect, on forgiveness and reconciliation, and on time spent together. My parents’ faith did not allow anyone to be dismissed, or ridiculed, or accepted with anything less than unconditional love. No matter how mad we got at each other, or at our parents, no matter how badly we, or they, messed up, no one got to walk away feeling unloved or unwanted.

I just want to close by saying that the Parable of the Prodigal Son is the story of my family’s life. We have all taken turns being “prodigal” – in big and small ways– wasteful and ungrateful for the gifts we’ve been given in each other and in our lives, but each of us has also heard God whisper in our ear that it was time to go home, God reminding us of the wealth of Love that was still ours, waiting for us. And when we finally turned around to face the hard consequences of our actions, we have always seen, not just our parents running towards us with their arms outstretched, but an army of Love Warriors – our sisters and brothers, in-laws and children – coming to bring us home – to family, to faith, and sometimes even to ourselves.

I look at my parents’ faith and the culture that faith created and I know what heaven looks like. It looks like this; it looks like all of you sitting before me. It looks like a communion of saints, through the forgiveness of sins and a faith in resurrection – not just as a one-time deal – but rather as a daily practice of starting over again with Faith, Hope and Love. So thank you for being a part of this heaven tonight. Thank you for helping them create fifty years of heaven for all of us.



The “Days for Grieving” aren’t over, especially here in California. Forest fires rage. Lives, land, homes, businesses, pets and precious things have been lost and more are threatened. It feels surreal to find my heart swell with love and gratitude in the midst of the mess and pain of this world. But that’s the gift a mother offers us, isn’t it? For at least a little while, in the shelter of her arms, or in the space of her memory, you can breathe a little easier and believe that everything’s going to be okay.













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  1. This is absolutely the BEST gift you could give me! Thank you for including your “anniversary speech” so I can read it over when I’m discouraged or feeling unloveable. God blessed us with some brilliant children. Amen.


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