Posts Filed Under Ramblings

Take My Hand

posted by Momo Fali on July 5, 2016

As a best friend’s father lay dying last winter we gathered around the edge of his bed and I grabbed one of his hands. I held it in mine and traced the lines and sun spots dotting his skin. Those hands were like a glimpse into his past; of a life well-lived. And, it was one of the first times I’ve talked out loud about how special I think a person’s hands are.

Mine are typing this post right now. They have typed, or handwritten, thousands of stories, letters and postcards to friends and family all over the world. They have held crying babies, laughing babies, and a dying baby. They have cooked countless meals and, in the case of tonight’s dinner, burned a few as well.

I used to watch my grandmother’s as she rolled out her own noodles, or carried my handicapped cousin through the house. My children have used theirs to make me homemade cards. My dad used his for manual labor. My mom uses hers to work logic problems, or wrap her loving arms around the back of her very dirty grandson.


Hands create, they comfort, they caress and they betray. I can’t help but think of the love they promised, the ring mine wore for 18 years, and how they held the pen that signed that all away. I remember another relationship when they were used to hurt me. I think of the guns they fire and the harm they can do.

And, I can’t help but think of the new hands I hold; stronger than any I know, calloused and worn, but gentle and giving. They have rubbed my shoulders during tense times, held me in the midst of darkness and danced with me in the light. They have been quite wonderful at prodding me to do new things in this new life. I love them.

They say eyes are the window to the soul, but I think it’s the hands. Next time I see you, take my hand and give me a glimpse into yours.

On Forgiveness

posted by Momo Fali on March 6, 2016

We Catholics are in the home stretch of Lent. I used to give up chocolate or beer, or something else that would slim me down in time for spring break. Part of me offered something up out of faith and part of me offered something up out of vanity. At least I’m honest.

This year I decided that instead of giving something up, I would try to do better; as in, improving upon being human. I’m not doing so well.

My thought was that I would focus on forgiveness. I have a lot of anger and resentment and, honestly, on top of it being WRONG to be filled with that much hatred, I’m just tired of feeling this way. It’s draining and unbelievably bad for my soul.

So I started out on Ash Wednesday hopeful and feeling good about improving myself. I felt good – clean, for lack of a better word. There is something to be said for a fresh start.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last long.

By that evening I had lost my cool and said horrible things that didn’t make me feel better and certainly didn’t do any good. This forgiveness stuff is hard.

Ultimately, I have to find a way to get to this place so I keep trying every day. I need to not only turn the other cheek, but also forgive the person who slapped me in the first place. The problem is that I am a master grudge-holder.

I think I’ll get there. I can honestly say I am thankful for where I am today and appreciation is a start, right? RIGHT? Being grateful has been a journey and I’m happy to say I’ve truly arrived. The road wasn’t easy, but the destination has a pretty stellar view.


And, knowing that someday I’ll feel the same way about forgiveness is what motivates me now. I am aware that it’s going to feel really good when I finally get to that place.

But, I’m not going to lie. It would be a real bonus if I’d go down a size.


Are You Whole?

posted by Momo Fali on March 1, 2016

Well, are you?

Oh, I know. Half of you are just staring at the words thinking, I don’t even understand the question!

Let me back up.


Last week, I was keenly aware of how fulfilling my life was. My son had a successful surgery (lucky number 13, to keep his eardrums from collapsing, because OF COURSE his ear drums are collapsing), work was going well, I exercised, I studied, I had dinner with friends and even had time for Netflix. One day, the sun came out! Thanks, Ohio!

Then something happened which made me realize the joy I felt was only half as good as it could’ve been. I realized only a portion of me had experienced all that goodness because I was really kind of empty inside. I just didn’t know it.

I know you’re dying to know what my realization was, but that doesn’t matter. It was something intensely personal to me.

YOU might get filled up by a well-placed smile on the face of a grocery clerk. It could be a hug from your child or a liver-breathed lick on the face from your puppy. It’s whatever you need, at a given moment, to make you feel like you are FEELING with 100% of you. It’s fulfillment multiplied because your soul has soaked up enough to make it a puffy, smiley-faced sponge.

The trouble is being able to recognize it. I certainly didn’t feel like anything was missing – quite the contrary. So, how do you make yourself whole when you don’t even realize you’re half-empty?

My suggestion is that even when you think you’re at your peak, push on. Try new things, travel outside your comfort zone, let people in, read more, believe in something greater than yourself, give back, practice acceptance, trust people, LET GO.

You may think you have exactly what you need. You may feel complete, but there’s a chance that a new experience will move you away from being a fraction of yourself. And what’s crazy is that you may never know you were missing anything until you find it.

You’ve certainly heard that you should give your best effort, but do you receive with that kind of effort too? Most of us don’t think we deserve an abundance of happiness, because we are defeatists. We believe that bad things happen to good people (which they do…they definitely do), but good things can happen to good people too.

So let yourself be whole. Trust me. It feels 100% good.

I Fed a Troll

posted by Momo Fali on February 27, 2016

Don’t feed the trolls.

It is the first rule of blogging. Don’t engage with the haters. Don’t let them get in your head. If someone leaves you a nasty comment, you move along without reply, because they are not worth the anger, frustration and, most of all, your precious time.

I haven’t written in five months because I let someone tell me that no one cares what I write about and people who read my posts are actually laughing behind my back.

So I haven’t written, because what if they were right? What if my content has been one big joke to the Internet?

Years ago I was in an abusive relationship and I can assure you that the names he called me hurt far more than any slap in the face. No bloody wound feels as bad as being called worthless. Five months ago, that’s exactly how I felt.

Today, though, I suddenly woke up and realized that as much as I love my readers and the people who have surrounded me through blogging, I don’t write for anyone but me. If you don’t want to read these words, don’t read them. I don’t really care. Now the troll can say I’m selfish. So be it.

I am going to write again. I’m going to write because it’s my creative outlet. I’m going to write because it clears my head. I’m going to write to prove to my daughter that you can’t let someone control you through their hate. I’m going to write because I am better for it.

This is my start.