Always Remember to Never Forget.
Always Remember to Never Forget
January represents a beginning. It is a time for looking forward! But, regardless of what month it is, there is always time to look back and reflect.
This month, South Shore Woman's Wink webzine honors those who are no longer with us in body, but always in spirit. We all have someone close to us who left this life too soon, be it from sickness, war, or tragic accident. It is often unbearable to think that we must live on without them, but, if you are like us, you know that special person remains with you in spirit. And, the memories of laughter, lessons, and love make a difference.
To that end, in this special January 2010 issue, our person of the month is Mike Wilson. He was, as his friends describe him and as outlined in a Boston Herald article this past July, "No big shot, just a great guy". Tall in stature and abound with energy and enthusiasm, Mike had an undeniable presence when he walked into a room. But it was his ability to live in the moment and a genuine care for others around him that made him a magnetic force to anyone standing in that room with him. His daughter, Jamie, writes about the life changing last moments she shared with him, and the inspiration he continues to instill within her and the rest of his family and friends. Because, after all, what's important is being the best person you can be-- not being a big shot. Mike taught us that.
Continuing on our theme of remembering loved ones lost, SSW contributor Erin Heffernan writes about her best friend Lisa Reid who passed away a few years ago from breast cancer. Erin and a team of women recently participated in the Avon walk in her memory, finding strength and understanding along the way. Read Erin's story The Pink Horizon.
What one can never fully understand, however, is the loss of a child. Holleigh and Paul Tlapa endured the most devasting event of their lives when their daughter Jaiden was fatally injured in an accident. Their grief is neverending, everyday is excruciating, Holleigh writes. Yet she continues on in her role as mother, wife, and keeper of the memories. And, she helps others in Jaiden's name through the Jaiden Angel Foundation which provides services to families facing tragic child illness, accidents and loss.
What we really need to remember, as psychic medium Maureen Hancock reminds us, is that our loved ones may not be physically here, but they are still with us, just in a different form. Click on Maureen's story to find out how she can connect us earthly beings with those on the other side-- and she does it with humor, adding a little levity to make it less overwhelming.
Things to think about in 2010.
Of course, we can't have a January issue without addressing our New Year's resolutions. Our newest South Shore Woman columnists, Loraine Fields and Stacey Shipman, share their tips on how to get your finance and your fitness goals on the right track in 2010!
(Tracy and Steph have some goals of their own to share in the latest 40 Winks blog, "Body by Budweiser, No More". )
Finally, our featured business this month is the The Greenbush Times, a local newspaper founded by Scituate native Therese Duane, which is "Tracking life in the villages of the Old Colony Line". Read on for a little history lesson and....reflection.
Thank you for checking back in with South Shore Woman. And, please, contact us if you have a person or a business you'd like us to profile, or something cool you came across that you think "We'd Love"!
Have a safe and very happy New Year!
Tracy and Steph
We Love!,
Riva Pizzeria
Jay, our muse, has been busy opening up a new pizzeria in North Scituate. Now open daily at 4:00 p.m., it is conveniently located across from the Commuter Rail Station. So, when you are trying to hustle home after a long day at work, grab an authentic Italian pizza with out-of-the-ordinary ingredients ranging from figs to meatballs. And, when you are ready for a night out to relax on a cold winter evening, don't forget cozy Riva restaurant in Scituate Harbor for a fine-dining experience.
Jay will be back with more musings real soon...Stay tuned!
If You Missed It, Read the January 2009 Issue!
Last January South Shore Woman was only three months old, yet we packed our issue with some great stories.
If you weren't on our distribution list back then, you really need to click back and take a read. Here's a quick recap:
Our Woman and Man of the Month were Kristin and Jon Erickson who created an Internet-based business to help children with special needs.
We introduced you to Boot Chic, a stylish new accessory on and off the slope! And, we interviewed local experts in skin care, acupuncture and home remedies in our feature story on how to easily and affordably Turn Back the Clock.
In addition, our January issue corresponded with the opening of Orta Restaurant in Pembroke. We're sure you've been to this popular place by now, but read our first impressions of the upscale pizzeria.
Meanwhile Wink webzine entertained with a True Beauty article by Karen Capaccioli, Beautiful Cole by Erin Heffernan, and an Attitude Edition of What To Wear.
About Us,
Let SSW Promote Your Business!
SouthShoreWoman.com writes about the local people who follow their passion and build new economic opportunities in our communities. But, whether you have started a popular jewelry line, have an established retail store or restaurant, or offer a unique service, you will always need to reach new customers.
SSW, an online magazine, serves as the perfect venue for businesses that want to go a bit beyond their town borders. Let us help you get your message to the masses by being your vehicle into the larger world of social media.
Our affordable promotional packages give you an advertisement on SSW, plus a presence on Facebook, Twitter, and LinkedIn. In addition to getting directly in front of our audience (there are over a thousand South Shore readers-- that we know of), your business will also be exposed to many of the 750 million Facebook users, 100 million Twitter users, and over 100 million LinkedIn members.
Let's put it this way: Print advertising is dead. Social media is the surest way to gain new customers in this Internet age. Yes, we know, you are running a business! You don't have time to tweet and post all day....
We want you to continue to grow and become social media savvy. Let us help!
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For more information contact:
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or,
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Local Spotlight,
Local Spotlight: The Greenbush Times
The typical commuter hopping on the Greenbush line likely has no idea of the history of that rail. Back in the day---April 1, 1826 to be exact---construction began on the track which was to be used to move granite from the Quincy quarry to a dock on the Neponset River in Milton. The rock would then be brought to Charlestown where a monument was being built for the soldiers who sacrificed their lives at the battle of Bunker Hill.
You would know this, however, if you read the first edition of The Greenbush Times which hit the tracks this past June. The newspaper, serving Scituate, Cohasset, Hull, and Hingham, is distributed at each train station along the Greenbush line, as well as dropped at stores and businesses within the villages.
Stories range from historic accounts of the Old Colony Railroad line, ancient mysteries surrounding Minot Light, as well as present day information on area businesses, tips from local experts on golf and fishing, for example, and profiles of the people who make this place so interesting--- like Bob Simon, the puzzlemaster extraordinaire.
Perhaps the most interesting person, however, is the woman responsible for publishing The Greenbush Times: Therese Duane.
Therese Duane
Over a year ago, Therese, who has been a graphic designer for corporations and newspaper publishers, decided to take control of her career by starting her own paper. She took a big risk by jumping into the print publishing arena while larger established papers, like the Boston Globe, were struggling to keep their own print presses running. But she felt passionate about the fact that people still want to read their local news by holding the paper in their hands, not via an electronic interface and a WiFi connection. And there is always room for more information, regardless of how many local papers already circulate throughout the communities.
To that end, she is delivering something much different than what you might read in the Scituate Mariner or Hingham Journal, because she is tapping into the obscure history and the out-of-the-way places that people may not even know exist.
"Local, local, local, is our mission statement," says Therese. "We write about what it is like to really live here, a place that is rich in history."
Therese is starting with the Greenbush line, but will eventually expand the paper to serve the Plymouth and Middleboro lines as well. And the mission statement remains. Aside from a history lesson here or there, the paper will inform and entertain readers with information on upcoming events as well as interesting and fun facts.
So the next time you are standing on the platform waiting to board the train, make sure you grab a Greenbush Times to pass the time!
Wink webzine,
Man of the Month: Mike Wilson
"Life is like riding a bicycle -- in order to keep your balance, you must keep moving." ---Albert Einstein
In the summer of 1978, my dad along with three of his friends rode their bicycles across the country, starting in Boston, and ending in San Francisco. Thankfully, my dad kept his memories in two logs the entire time, and not until recently have I learned how precious these documented moments truly are.
My dad was diagnosed with stage four-colon cancer in May of 2007. Last May we were told my dad had at most six months to live, or as little as four weeks. Only time would tell. My dad, the strongest man I knew, who had been living with, not dying from, cancer, gave us two and a half weeks before passing away.
I was--and still am-- angry, upset, confused, sad, and, at times, numb. It depends on the day. But in my frustration at watching my dad confront this disease, I took up a hobby and a new challenge. A pastime that my father loved: Cycling.
I pedaled my fears away, and in February, I, along with my two best friends and my father's sister Jane, decided we would train for the Dempsey Challenge, a demanding 100-mile bike ride through hilly Maine to raise money for the Patrick Dempsey Center for Cancer Hope and Healing. Our four-person team quickly grew to include his other sister, Joanie, his brother, Billy, and some of his closest family and friends.
We began small. I biked five miles here, ten miles there. I told my dad I made the commitment, and I knew he was proud. Two days before he passed away I completed my longest ride since I had started training: 30 miles to Scituate and back on Route 3A. When I returned from my ride, I ran into the house and told my dad I had finished the route. I still cherish the memory of the look of excitement in his eyes.
All summer I rode my bike. When I wasn't working, I was riding. It freed me, it calmed me, and it cleared my mind. Many times during these training rides, I would think about my dad crossing the country on his navy blue, Fuji bicycle, and the excitement he felt. Then, I would think about myself, riding down the hills in Cohasset, or biking up country roads in New Hampshire, happy and grateful to be alive, breathing in fresh air. This is something I would always share with my dad, even if in spirit.
In fact, I believe he made me a stronger cyclist. Before my dad became ill, he gave me the two logs he kept from his 1978 trip. It took me four hours to read them front to back one day when I was home sick from work. I remember finishing them, and crying, because my dad's experience was one I yearned to have some day. I like to think that the feeling my dad had when he finally caught glimpse of the Pacific Ocean was similar to the feeling I felt at mile 99 of the Dempsey Challenge, only on a much larger scale.
On the inside cover of his journal, before his first entry, my dad quotes William Allen White: "I am not afraid of tomorrow, for I have seen yesterday, and I love today." Living in the moment was something I learned to do in the last few weeks I had with my dad. Family and friends would come over, and we would laugh, and reminisce. My dad would tell us he was okay, and he knew we would be okay, too.
And we are okay. Some days are better than others. It's all part of the grieving process. I take comfort in knowing my dad is all around me. Whenever I find myself missing my dad, I simply take out one of his journals and read for a while. Then I hop on my bike and go.
I completed the challenging century bike ride in Maine on October 4, just a few days short of the 3 month mark of my father's passing. I conquered the task set before me mile by mile. When my dad was cross-country he would bike 100 miles in a day for seven days straight. Perhaps one day I can say I did the same.
As I rounded the corner onto an old, run-down bridge over a river in Lewiston, Maine, nearing the finish line, tears welled up in my eyes. I had succeeded. I had taken the trials of the past two years coping with my dad's illness, and used them as motivation to accomplish something I never would have dreamt of doing. And my dad was with me the entire time. I wouldn't have been able to complete the century if it weren't for the inspiration of my father. And, of course, my mother, who was cheering me along on the sidelines with my closest family and friends.
As the holidays drew near, I missed my dad more than ever. While the conditions are not right for my father to physically be here, I know his spirit is with me each and every day. He will continue to be with me as I tackle new obstacles and test my own limits, because after this year, who knows what one is capable of in moments that truly test one's endurance: Physically, mentally, and emotionally. Perhaps he can help me take on the Hyannis Sprint triathlon next September.
As the British poster from World War II suggests, if nothing else in moments of uncertainty, we must "keep calm and carry on."
One stroke, one pedal, one sprint, one day at a time.
The "Mike's Buzzahds" team after completing the Dempsey Challenge.
About Us,
SSW in the Air-CLICK HERE TO HEAR
Tracy Coyne and Stephanie Neil, co-founders of SouthShoreWoman.com, were recently guests on Teri Sica's talk show "Discovering Authenticity". The two talk about friendship, starting a business, and what SSW can do for you. Take a listen!
Here's the link: http://www.959watd.com/discoveringauthenticity/DiscoveringAuthenticityShow29.mp3
More WATD/SSW interviews:
11/20/2010: Jay Cole, owner of Riva restaurant recently sat down with Teri to talk about starting a business and being SSW's Male Muse. Tune in here: http://www.959watd.com/discoveringauthenticity/DiscoveringAuthenticityShow34.mp3
And, to read Jay's Male Muse columns, click here! http://southshorewoman.com/author/jay-cole
12/4/2010: Stephanie Neil talks with Teri about turning challenges into opportunities and the life lessons along the way. http://www.959watd.com/discoveringauthenticity/DiscoveringAuthenticityShow36.mp3
Members,
B2B
SSW Business Members
(Click on the company name to read their stories here on SSW, then visit their websites to learn more about these local companies.)
FOOD (Restaurant, Catering, and Personal Chef Services)
Beach Fire Restaurant, Hull
http://www.beachfirehull.com/
Riva Restaurant, Scituate
www.rivarestaurant.net
Jay Cole, Owner
The Fieldston Restaurant, Marshfield
http://www.thefieldston.com/
Jan Perrin, Owner
JennaCAKES
Jenna.perette@yahoo.com
Jenna Perette, Owner
Scarlet Oak Tavern, Hingham
www.scarletoaktavern.com
Jed and Josh Webber, Owners
Aoyama, Marshfield
781-837-6990
The Chef’s Table
http://www.thechefstableonline.com/index.html
Mark and Julie Ellis, Owners
Fruit Center Marketplace
http://www.fruitcentermarketplace.com/
Oro Restaurant, Scituate
www.ororestaurant.com
Jill and Robin King, Owners
Orta Restaurant, Pembroke
www.ortarestaurant.com
Jimmy Burke and Joanie Wilson, Owners
Beach Plum Baking Company
http://www.beachplumbaking.com
Jennifer Love, Owner
Barker Tavern, Scituate
www.barkertavern.com
Savor: A Personal Chef Service
www.savorathome.com
Meghan Haney, Personal Chef & Owner
Darlene Calcagno, Personal Chef & Owner
781-878-9700
Joanie Wilson, Owner
SPECIALTY SHOPS
Harborlight Toy Company
146 Front Street (Welch Company Bldg), Scituate
781-544-5487, website coming soon!
Jerry & Kelly Burke, Owners
Almar Building and Remodeling
Allison Quinn Guido, General Manager
781-826-2577
APPAREL/ACCESSORIES
Sealore Designs
http://www.etsy.com/shop/sealoredesigns?page=1
Michelle Murphy, Owner
Roaring Stones
http://www.roaringstones.com/
Casey Kerr, Owner
SpitDudes
http://spitpermit.com/
Andy White, Owner
Crystals n Pearls
http://www.crystalsnpearls.com/
Carolyn Cattaneo, Owner
Boot Chic
www.bootchic.com
Kim O’Connor, Owner
Babushka Style
http://www.babushkastyle.com/
Rebecca Pimentel, Owner
Ring by Ring Designs
Bev Carlson, Jewelry Designer
FASHION/STYLE
Ready Set Style
Eva Gaiardelli, Owner/Fashion Stylist
eva@readysetstyle.com; 617-433-8295
Tracey Leahy, Owner
Charlotte & Company, Hairstylists & Makup Artists
Charlotte Phinney, Owner
Mary Kay
Shakira Perry, Independent Beauty Consultant
617-653-6796
FUN
East Coast Hui
http://www.eastcoasthui.com/Home.html
Bobby Fenton
HEALTH/FITNESS/SPA
Stacey Shipman, Feel Good Living
http://staceyshipman.com/
Stacey Shipman, Owner
A Healthy Balance
http://www.ahealthybalancenutrition.com/home.html
Nikki Tierney, Owner
Mariposa Body Massage and Therapy
http://www.mariposabody.com/
Cindy Doody, Owner
Healthy Options
http://www.healthyoptionscoaching.com/
Sheela Calhoun, Owner
Perpetual Motion
Jennifer McGilvray, owner
Dolce Med Spa & Boutique
www.DolceMed.com
Tracey Lively, President/Owner
781-792-0919
Spa-tique Day Spa
781-837-1850
South Shore Healing Center
Martha Tassinari, PT/CST
781-934-0100



ART/DESIGN
Cut River Gallery
www.cutrivergallery.com
Chris Lewis, Owner
Hawkmoon Studio
www.hawkmoonstudio.com
Michael Coyne, Owner
Everything Emily
www.everythingemily.com
Emily Loverin, Owner
Interiors by Daryce
http://www.interiorsbydaryce.com/home.html
Daryce Morris, Owner
SERVICES/Personal & Business
JKC Design
www.jkcdesign.com
Jada Coyne, Owner
Errands Etcetera
http://www.errandsetcetera.biz/
Stacy Mafera, Owner
South Shore Skin Center
www.southshoreskincenter.com
Fastteks
We travel to home or business for all computer services.
www.fastteks.com
Concierge Service
Gennie Litchfield Murphy & Chrissy Sladen McCormack, Owners
www.adminsanderrands.com
Wink webzine,
MISSING… Before & After
By: Holleigh Ciardelli Tlapa
I have given birth to four children; all born naturally and underwater. As a writer and a lover of words, it was the one experience I could not truly describe. My best assessment was that it was like being turned inside out; yet at the end of the process, all the pain immediately dissipates. You are left in a deep state of awe that is filled with wonderment, intense joy and lasting ecstasy. The pain is unbearable while it is happening; but the reward was one that would last forever; or so I naively thought.
Two years ago my life was forever shattered. On a fateful winter day, I learned that there was another indescribable and incomprehensible event that would haunt me for all eternity; with no fairy tale ending. Five days before Christmas in 2007, my beloved 8-year old daughter Jaiden was fatally injured in an accident at our home.
The concept of "missing" was not one I had spent a lot of time dwelling on. I led what most would deem a rather charmed life. As the youngest of four children, the closest person I had ever lost was my Grandmother. She was 89 years old at the time of her death. She had lived a long and prosperous life, surrounded by her children, grand-children and great grand-children. Although I was deeply affected by her loss; I felt confident that it was her time, and one day, we would be reunited. It was the natural order of the world, and I accepted that.
Nothing on this earth could have ever prepared me for losing a child. You become an orphan when your parents die; and a widow when your spouse dies. Yet there is no word for losing a child; it is simply that excruciating, that it has no name.
Jaiden was a vibrant and loving soul. She was truly so beautiful that my Dad used to fear someone would snatch her away from us all. Platinum blond hair and brilliant blue eyes were just part of the packaging though; her real beauty was on the inside. She was the star that shone so brightly; it burned out faster than the others. Yet her eternal light will be shining intensely long after we have all gone. Of this much, I am certain.
The early days were a blur of burning tears, shock and denial. Jaiden did not die immediately. She was rushed to Children's Hospital under the scrutiny of a team of doctors. The specialists we learned to dread the most were the neurologists; or the bearers of unbearable news, as they came to be known. For the first several days we were all so hopeful that Jaiden would become the Christmas miracle. Thousands of people across the Globe learned of her plight through a prayer website. We received hundreds of cards, emails and inspirational posts. We believed the love all around us would create a wall of protection; shielding Jaiden from the unthinkable.
Yet as the hours turned into days, and the days into weeks; we saw Jaiden begin to deteriorate rather than recover. We watched our strong little athlete withering away. Her beautiful blue eyes had finally opened; but to our horror they were vacant and lifeless. In the midst of all the prayers, positive energy and multitude of specialists; deep in the dark bowels of our fragile hearts; a sinking reality began to take shape.
For 25 days we sat vigil by her side. I slept in her bed each night, caressing her in my arms and struggling to breathe in her scent. But it was not her signature stinky feet that I inhaled; rather the antiseptic and medicinal smell of a hospital.
Each morning I would wash her face, apply lotion to her hands, and paint her nails and toes. We read her favorite books to her, played her music and held chocolate to her parched lips; fervently praying that the taste might awaken her. We washed her hair and dressed her in her own pajamas. We plastered her walls with photos, cards and messages of love. We anointed her with holy water, had her blessed by a Catholic Priest, a Mormon Elder and our own Methodist Pastor. We held a constant vigil by her side; naively thinking that perhaps we could will her back to us.
On January 14th, our precious and irreplaceable daughter lost her battle. My husband and I both cradled her as she took her last breath, assuring her it was OK to go now. Telling her we would see her again. Declaring our unending love, and our deep gratitude; that she had chosen us to be her parents.
We dressed her in the outfit she had chosen to wear at Christmas. We invited our parents and our living children into see her one last time. We took photographs that to this day haunt me when I even contemplate looking at them. We put her hair in a long, beautiful braid. Then I cut it off and placed it in a box. The box sits at the top of my closet. I am afraid to open it, afraid to look inside. But perhaps one day I will find the courage...
So the concept of missing was virtually unknown to me two years ago. Now it is in integral part of who I am. I wake up each morning missing my Jaiden. As I watch her little sister board the bus alone, I am reminded of how they should be together. As I watch her older sister learn to drive; I must face the fact that Jaiden will never drive. She will never have a first date, a first love, a first baby.
I cry alone into my coffee. I cry at the supermarket when I walk by her favorite foods. I cry when I go into her school to visit her sister. I cry when I set the table for five people instead of six. I cry when one of the children sets a sixth plate for Jaiden and places her picture on it. I cry when I think about the fact that it has been almost two years since I've seen her smile.
I no longer listen to music on the radio. I have become a talk show addict instead. I never know what song might set me off. I cannot bear to listen to what I used to love; it reminds me of how nothing will ever be the same.
Our walls are adorned with her photographs and artwork. Yet I cannot bring myself to watch the video tapes of her, although I am grateful we have so many. It makes me sad to know that there are no new ones being made. The camera sits idle in my drawer. I miss the person I used to be.
I miss the life we used to have. It will always be before and after. I spend hours upon hours dreaming about a do-over. Like the song by Bread says... "I would give Everything I own; Just to have you... back again."
Some days I think I have reached a plateau, the end of my rope. I cannot breath and in my heart I simply know that I cannot go on any longer without Jaiden. Yet another day comes to pass. Another load of laundry gets done. Another meal gets consumed. Another child needs me. And here I am, still trudging along.
I have vowed to give my living children the opportunity to be the person that Jaiden was. We were all part of that foundation. We were a family, united by love and compassion. We created a safe and beautiful place for Jaiden to flourish; and oh how she did. It is my destiny and responsibility to provide that same foundation for her siblings; even if it is excruciating to go on without her. I have to hold onto my belief, that one day; we will be reunited. Although to me it is an eternity away; it is only a moment to her. I imagine her running through a field of wild roses. The sun is lighting her precious smile and she is so caught up in the absolute joy of the moment. When she finally turns to look back at me; I will already be there.
And so the circle of life goes on. In less than a month, I will undergo that one event I used to believe was the only indescribable experience on earth. I will give birth to a new baby. We don't know if it will be a boy or a girl; we decided it might be too painful knowing either way. But I do know, that at the very moment this child enters the world, I will be filled with a deep awe and a burning love. This time around there will also be a sprinkle of lasting pain and sorrow. I will grieve for the fact that this new baby will never spend a moment on earth with her beautiful and loving sister Jaiden. I vow to make certain that he or she will know all about her though; and carry a piece of her inside. Just like I do; forever in my heart.
Jaiden Lyndi Tlapa
About the author: Holleigh Ciardelli Tlapa lives in Milford, NH, with her husband Paul and their three living children; Alexeigh, Aspen and Gage. They are expecting a new baby at the end of January, and Angel Jaiden lives forever in their hearts. After Jaiden's death, Holleigh created Jaiden's Angel Foundation in memory of Jaiden Lyndi Tlapa. This foundation provides services and assistance to local families facing tragic child illness, accidents and loss. For more information, please visit www.jaidensangel.org
Wink webzine,
Meet Maureen Hancock
On a cold March night in 1992, the car that Maureen Hancock was driving slid across a patch of ice and slammed into a tree. The car was crushed, still, Maureen managed to get herself out even before the Stoughton fire and rescue team arrived. It seemed like a miracle.
What followed, however, was even more miraculous.
A CAT scan confirmed that every bone in her face was broken and her fractured skull was leaking cerebrospinal fluid--- a dangerous situation. But, between the time that she was transported from the local hospital to Mass General in Boston for emergency surgery, her skull had already begun to heal.
How she got out of that car, and how her skull restored itself without surgery is still a mystery. But, of course, this is the same woman who was in a coma for several months as a toddler, having chomped away on enough lead paint chips to kill five adults. Yet, she survived and spent the next 20 years in and out of the hospital to be tested, because by all means, the amount of lead paint she ingested should have resulted in severe brain damage-- at the very least. Not so in Maureen's case.
In fact, this woman who has defied the odds time and time again seems to be infused with an unexplained energy. It comes across in her humor: She's a stand-up comedienne; It comes across in her holistic healing: She's a Reiki master and trained in Shiatsu massage and acupressure; And, it comes across in her divine intuition: She communicates with the dead.
No, she's not chit-chatting with the deceased casually over coffee, and she doesn't see them-- at least not at first.
"I'm clairaudient," Maureen says. "I hear then I see."
And with that gift, she delivers messages from souls on the other side to those of us who are still milling about here on earth. Her popular show 'Postcards from Heaven', which takes place every month in a variety of local venues, is always sold out and often filled with skeptics, most of whom emerge convinced (or at least semi-convinced) that she's the real deal.
There are no generalizations in her messages, like, 'someone is pregnant and you'll soon be taking a trip to Florida'. Rather, Maureen will pick up on specific details, such as an unusual name, like Mariah.
"She just sang a Mariah Carey song to me," she recently told a stunned audience member at a show at the Charlie Horse in West Bridgewater.
She will ask an individual a very direct question, "Who got hit by a car at age 12?"
Or, she'll confirm a presence through a nickname. "I keep seeing a donkey," she told one woman. "Are you from Middleboro? No? Umm, the donkey is not going away...And, who is Charlie?"
To which the woman answered: "Charlie is my husband, but I called him jackass for 35 years."
She starts each show by alerting everyone, "We'll laugh, we'll cry, we'll shit ourselves." And it is her off-the-cuff comedy that diffuses the intensity of the experience. Laughter also keeps people interested, and more importantly, lifts the vibration of the room-psychic talk for getting people to let their guard down.
"It takes the edge off of what is so overwhelming," Maureen says.
She too is often overwhelmed by her ability, which she first recognized during that car accident when she felt-and heard-- her grandmother, who had passed just a week before. Later, she said she would often feel the presence of others in the room when she was in the middle of a holistic healing session. But her sixth sense didn't fully emerge until after Sept. 11, 2001.
She was working as a litigation manager at Logan airport at the time of the tragic event, and shortly thereafter, her grandmother began to show up in dreams and tell her things-things that always came true. Slightly freaked, and, as an Irish Catholic, a skeptic herself, Maureen blocked the communication and focused on stand-up comedy at the Comedy Connection instead.
Ultimately, however, she came to terms with her ability, and when her sister's 19 year old son died in an accident, she felt compelled to help her. "It was a turning point for me," Maureen says.
It took her intuition up about five notches, and made her realize that her life had a very different purpose than what she had originally thought.
Since that revelation, her life has projected down a very different road. First, she left her job at Logan to open Pathways to Healing, a holistic center in East Bridgewater. In addition, she works with people dealing with terminal illness through the Seeds of Hope foundation, established together with her friend and colleague, Sandy Alemian. And, of course, she helps survivors of those who have passed through "Postcards from Heaven", delivering comforting messages, and hopefully proving her theory that we live on even after we die, we just take on a different form.
"I always say, [our body] is our shell, our physical vehicle, and we just don't know when the lease is up," Maureen says. She points out that we all have intuition we've just shut it off because we don't understand it. But, for example, "How many times have you thought of a person and then they call you?" she asks.
Her adamant skeptics say it's all guesswork, and she's picking up on people's personality. Others claim it's just wrong. "I recently got a call from a woman saying I'm doing the devil's work," Maureen says. She struggles with this, as a practicing Catholic, and prays every day. Ultimately, however, she knows she is on the right path.
One of the most important things she does is to provide private readings for parents who have lost a child. And it was during one of those readings that she met someone who was so impressed by her ability that she is now helping move Maureen into yet another world-a world of camera crews, Hollywood producers, and demos-- all of which may lead to her own television show in the future.
For the average person, perhaps the biggest message Maureen delivers is one of hope and inspiration. "Too many women are not living their dream and just existing without feeling fulfilled," Maureen says.
It's time to change that.
For more information on Maureen, watch the video at the top of this page, and visit her website at: www.maureenhancock.com.
Maureen has a show coming up on Saturday, February 13th at the Barker Tavern in Scituate. Book Now! http://www.maureenhancock.com/events.html
(Footnote: It is worth mentioning that Maureen's experience as a child is one of the main reasons that there is a lead paint law today. Maureen's mother, Grace Dalton, spearheaded a local effort that ultimately resulted in the 1978 federal bill that bans the use of lead paint.)
This article originally appeared in the October 2008 issue of SouthShoreWoman's Wink webzine.
Wink webzine,
The Pink Horizon
On Saturday, May 20, 2006, we woke up at 5:15 a.m. in our hotel rooms because we could not be late for the opening ceremonies of the seventh annual Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in Boston. Seventeen women pulled different variations of pink T-shirts with the initials L.A.R. (for Lisa Anne Reid) over unstyled hair and eyes that had barely opened for the day. We pinned breast-cancer ribbons on our pink baseball caps; straightened them on our heads; stocked our back-packs with water bottles, pain relievers, extra socks, and more; and then ran through the lobby of the hotel into the parking lot to pile into cars. We were moving fast, until Jean said, "Wait." In the parking lot of the hotel, we each took a deep breath and joined hands in a circle while Jean led us in prayer:
"God, make me brave for life, oh, braver than this.
Let me straighten after pain, as a tree straightens after the rain,
Shining and lovely again.
God, make me brave for life, much braver than this . . . "
We shed the first of the tears we would shed during our 26-mile walk (a 39-mile walk for many), embraced one another and continued on our mission; and when we did, we were braver than we were before. This was our second year walking for Lisa. The first year we walked in earnest for her cure. The second year, of which I write, we walked in her memory.
When we arrived at The University of Massachusetts in Boston, we walked onto the field where the opening ceremonies for the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer incite the crowd to walk proudly, to walk with those who walk alone, and to constantly remember why we are walking. Immediately, we became one with the endless horizon of 2,600 walkers dressed in pink. And immediately, we were a subset of a much larger team that raised $6.3 million to help in the fight against breast cancer.
The sun shone high above us after 12 days of rain. I stood in the direct sunlight, because, with a reminder from Missy, I realized it was Lisa's presence. We all began to realize it was Lisa's presence, and we basked in her spirit. Suddenly, through the pink horizon, through the sunlight, came Denise - Lisa's mother - to greet us. We waited while Denise and Tara embraced one another and cried - Tara, of course, being Lisa's sister and our tireless team captain. We waited so we too could hug Denise in attempt to help heal her and heal ourselves. The highly anticipated arrival of the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer temporarily brought an inevitable wave of grief
Before we took our first steps onto the pavement, the opening speaker, who is a breast-cancer survivor, passionately asked of us to perpetuate what is a tradition at the beginning and end of every Avon Walk for Breast Cancer: to create a connection, a bond. She asked us to grasp the hands of the people to our left and to our right whether we knew them or not and raise them high in the air. So we did, and soon, 2,600 sets of hands were passing energy from one walker to another via the power of touch.
With this energy, we were ready to begin our journey together; or, for many of us, to continue the journey we began together on May 14, 2005. As we walked, we slowly emerged from our sorrow ready to talk and laugh. Often, the laughter was more physically fatiguing than the walking. Like the year before, we enjoyed friendship, renewed friendship, and discovered friendship in strangers.
The crowd of walkers eventually thinned as people chose their paces. I walked alone for a mile or so, remembering Lisa. Lisa and I went to middle and high school together. Of course, my feelings for Lisa were not embedded in the length of time that I knew her, but in the emotional and spiritual connection we had naturally built as adults and the reverence I had for her as a friend . . . a best friend. We faced our individual trials together. And, with all that was ominous, laughter still came readily between us.
I will forever reflect upon how proud Lisa must have been as Trisha approached the 13-mile mark; she was never an athlete. Though I was holding the strap to her fanny pack to steady her as she staggered, she achieved the milestone and walked the next day like a champion. And, of course, she laughed and made others laugh, including strangers, through her pain. And I will forever reflect upon how impressed Lisa must have been when Missy walked by Starbuck's without stopping. Christina, for two days, continued to put one foot in front of the other with nagging pain in her knee; Michelle walked a total of 39 miles though she received a telephone call during the walk that her grandmother was ill; Joanne walked 39 miles with welts on her ankles; Joan, my favorite breast-cancer survivor, walked 39 miles despite the anticipation of surgery on the following Tuesday to biopsy a suspicious spot on her lung; Jessica walked 26 miles on Saturday, and after drinking a celebratory cocktail with too much enthusiasm, rebounded to complete 13 miles on Sunday.
We crossed the finish line on Sunday as a team, somehow holding hands in a 17-person chain with no breaks. Denise and Bev stood waiting with Roses for each of us. We could not reach Denise fast enough; hugging her at the finish line was the climax of the experience. Could we ever dull her pain or ours? After wiping tears we took our next steps, holding our roses, toward the "Men with Heart;" they stood in two lines as they did the year before to cheer for us as we walked between them. But, instead of walking between them, a surge of energy spurred us to break into dance as we made our way between the two lines. The surge of energy was in part due to the music that helped greet us: The song Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now infiltrated our bodies, reminding us that $6.3 million can potentially save countless men and women suffering from breast cancer now.
The closing ceremonies of the seventh annual Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in Boston started and ultimately ended in the same way the event began during the opening ceremonies - with 2,600 walkers holding hands high in the air. On May 20, 2006, the pink horizon thickened as the sun rose, and on May 21, 2006, the pink horizon thinned before the sun went down. Our next steps were back into our individual lives, where, amidst the chaos, we will continue to think of Lisa everyday; hold onto the love we felt during our weekend journey; package the countless memories made to be held sacred forever; and continue our quest to help eradicate breast cancer.
Lisa Reid
Columns,
Healthy New Year
Every year millions of Americans make New Year's resolutions to lose weight, quit smoking, spend more time with friends and family. Sound familiar? Only 10% will actually achieve success.
Why is it that over and over Americans make the same resolutions? You've heard the benefits of healthy diet and exercise; you've heard the dangers of smoking and excessive drinking; and you've heard that spending time with loved ones and engaging in activities that you enjoy can have a positive affect on your stress and happiness levels.
What more convincing do you need?
As another new year begins I challenge you to think differently about your resolutions. Think about why you make them, and why you might not be following through.
Making resolutions can be daunting. If you want to be part of that 10% who succeed, keep reading. The following list describes ideas that have helped people achieve the goals (not resolutions!) they set for themselves. I share them with the hope that they help you, too.
Keep it real. Start where you are, not where you want to be. Create a plan, and write it down. Include the steps needed to reach your final goal. Remember, when you climb a ladder you don't go from the ground to the top in one step, you have to climb the steps in between.
Ask for support. Whether from friends, family, or a coach, let people know what you're reaching for, and ask for help along the way. You are definitely not alone in your endeavors - people really do want to see you succeed.
Put in the effort. Reaching a goal requires effort. Even if you enlist the help of a coach, you still have to do the work! People can guide you, but ultimately it's up to you to make the time and take the steps. Make it fun and keep in mind you can only fault yourself if you're not taking the necessary steps.
Be patient. Reaching your goals is a process, not a single event. Success takes time. A successful business consultant once said to me, "I feel like a 20-year overnight success". Success, no matter what you're trying to achieve is worth the wait. Never give up!
Take responsibility. It's your health and wellbeing - what are you going to do about it? Make this the year for personal accountability. Take control over your own health and wellness, even if it means stepping away from the pack. Despite any challenge, the rewards are priceless. Do it for you and you may find that you become a role model for those around you.
Celebrate. Each time you complete a baby step, celebrate. You've accomplished something - you're one step closer to the final goal. Celebrating the completion of each step along the way gives you something to look forward to during the process. You'll feel good, too.
Remember these steps anytime you set a new goal for yourself. Perhaps you'll realize you no longer need to make resolutions because you are realizing success every step along the way.
Wishing you a healthy and successful 2010!
Columns,
Financial Focus
Like many people, you may make some New Year's resolutions. Perhaps you've promised yourself that you'll visit the gym more often or learn a new language or reconnect with a long-lost friend. All of these are worthy goals, of course, and if you achieve them, you may add new dimensions to your life. But if you want to accomplish other major milestones you may have envisioned-- a new home, college for your kids, a comfortable retirement and so on-- you may need to set some New Year's financial resolutions.
What type of financial resolutions should you make? Here are a few ideas to consider:
- Contribute as much as you can afford to your 401(k). Take full advantage of your 401(k) or other employer-sponsored retirement plan. Your contributions are typically tax deductible and your earnings grow on a tax-deferred basis. Every time you get a boost in salary, try to increase the amount going into your 401(k), but at the very least, contribute enough to earn the employer's match, if one is offered. In 2010, the contribution limit for 401(k) plans is $16,500, or $22,000 if you're age 50 or over, although both these limits may increase if they are indexed for inflation.
- "Max out" on your IRA. Even if you have a 401(k), you're probably still eligible to contribute to an IRA. A traditional IRA grows tax deferred, while a Roth IRA's earnings are tax free, provided you've had your account at least five years and don't start taking withdrawals until you're 59-1/2. (Your ability to contribute to a Roth IRA is based on your income.) You can fund your IRA with virtually any type of investment. In 2010, you can put in up to $5,000 to your IRA, or $6,000 if you're age 50 or older, although, as was the case with your 401(k), these limits may go higher if they're indexed for inflation.
- Rebalance your investments as needed. Over time, your goals and risk tolerance can change. That's why it's a good idea to review and rebalance your portfolio at least once a year, possibly with the help of a professional financial advisor who is familiar with your situation.
- Avoid "emotional" investing. Don't make decisions based on emotional reactions to what's happening with your investments. For example, just because the price of an investment may have dropped significantly, it doesn't mean you should rush to sell it. Despite the price drop, it may still have good prospects and it might be an important part of your investment strategy. Consider all factors before making "buy" or "sell" decisions.
- Keep sufficient cash in your portfolio - During the long bear market of 2008 and early 2009, many investors discovered that they lacked enough cash in their portfolios. Of course, you need enough cash on hand to meet unexpected expenses without dipping into long-term investments. But beyond that, the presence of cash and short-term, more liquid investments can help reduce the volatility in a portfolio that may sometimes be battered by both the stock and bond markets.
These financial resolutions, like all types of New Year's resolutions, may not be easy to keep. But if you can stick with them, you may have many happy new years in the future.
This article was written by Edward Jones for use by your local Edward Jones Financial Advisor.
Loraine Fields
Financial Advisor
Edward Jones
1442 Broadway
Hanover, MA 02339
(781) 826-4043