70th Wedding Anniversary

Happy 70th Anniversary Poem

Nick

Shirin

Lexi

Frederick

In 1941 they said “I Do” with a kiss

Now its been 70 years of bliss

He married the girl next door

Lillian proved she was no bore

A smile that lit up the room

A laugh that brushed off doom

She liked him too

He was a cool dude

Armond was the Italian man

Who provided for the “fam”

With his hands he worked to the top

Owning a high class hair dressing shop

Soon they had two more pearls

Cecilia and Phyllis, the Pilone girls

1 - 2 - 3 - 4

And not one more

In 1958 they moved from shore to shore

To Carmel California from Long Island New York

The Pilone girls grew up the same

It wasn’t too long when grandkids came

Cecila had three cutie pies

Phyllis did too, I’m telling no lies

3 + 3 = 6

5 girls & 1 boy in the mix

Then came the great-grandkids, so much!

And we are 4 of the whole bunch!

Grandma Pilone likes to pray

She goes to Church each Sunday

Grandpa Pilone drives here there

Without a single moment to spare

She made my blankie

It makes me happy

We love you both and the way you are (s)

Happy 70th Anniversary from 4 of your stars!

Written by Michelle Fozounmayeh on July 24, 2011

Recited by Nick Oldham, Shirin Fozounmayeh, Alexa Oldham and Frederick Fozounmayeh at Armond(94) and Lillian(95) Pilone's 70th Wedding Anniversary party.

My Rainbow Promise

My Rainbow Promise 
(It all started with Family Fun) 
Written on April 29, 2009 – 1,193 words 
By Michelle Fozounmayeh 

Yesterday morning my Facebook status read, “Faxing, phoning, dropping off kids, picking up kids”. By early afternoon I had almost everything checked off, only picking up my son Frederick was left. I sat in the pre-school parking lot contemplating my next to do list. It all felt like too much, like a storm of responsibilities were about to over take me. I was reminded of when Jesus and his disciples were in a boat together. He slept below deck as a storm was brewing. The waves came up and splashed against the boat. I imagined the waves with mouths of their own, I’m going to eat you up . . . . . I’m the evaluation you needed to fill out, I’m the traffic ticket you got for talking on your cell, I’m the consistent pain in your back! Playing out the story in my mind I could see the disciples in a panic, “Wake up Jesus!” OK, I thought as I sat in the parking lot. I know you calm the waters Lord but I’m still swimming in my to do list! Suddenly I could hear the faint memory of my son’s voice saying, “Member Pirates Caribbean?” 

My mind wondered off. Three years ago we started regular family fun nights using a box filled with our own ideas. The best ideas came from the kids. Drawing a family picture together, playing Simon Says or having a game night. I could feel a smile creep across my face as I replayed a game of Charades. My husband pretended to be my daughter. She in turn pretended to be my son. And my son pretended to be lots of things unaware that it all looked the same. I could hear the laughter, caught up in the moment I giggled out loud. The sound of my own voice brought me back to sitting in my car. It takes discipline for family fun nights to occur. Sadly I have found myself trying to skip the idea box. With my to do list overtaking my energy, reading books and going to bed early seemed much easier for my brain to process. That faint sound of my son’s voice grew a bit louder, “Member Pirates Caribbean?” 

Allowing this day dream to continue I thought about our number one family fun day, using our annual Disneyland passes. One idea from our box was to have each of us choose one ride. What genuine excitement it created, not to mention eliminating fits for the kids “not getting their way”. My daughter was so thrilled that she became the keeper of the events. My son’s choice, the Pirates of the Caribbean, seemed to make her more excited then he was, “Frederick, we are doing YOUR family fun choice!” 

My day dream suddenly cut short by my phone ringing. It was my husband. He asked me how the faxing, phoning, dropping off and picking up were going. I giggled and reported that I was on the last one. As I hung up the phone I was reminded of how easy it was to have the to do list become more prevalent then the list of our family fun ideas. “Member Pirates Caribbean?” 

I wonder what my Facebook status update would have been in August of 2007, days away from my son’s 3rd birthday? I had watched him in the hospital bed next to me. He had been enduring a fight to stay alive and I was in the middle of a storm. The waves had big ugly mouths and were shouting at me, “Did you go to enough specialists? Could you have pushed for more blood work? Did you really listen to your instincts? Did God choose the right mom for this job?” On my way to admit him to the hospital, my gut feeling said this was more then just a 15 day flu. Still I was numb at midnight on that first day in the hospital when I was told that his kidneys were not working. 

For the next few days we were flooded with doctors, specialist, decisions, surgeries and a boy hanging onto life. A storm vastly different then the day to day challenges of a to do list. I wanted to comfort and protect my little boy. I could see him closing off the world to protect himself from the pain and violation he was experiencing, “Maybe if I close my eyes and hide under the covers the monsters will go away.” I never felt such a helpless feeling in all my life. I needed a rainbow promise. Like the one Noah and his family experienced after the largest storm in history. Come on Lord, WAKE UP! 

Lost in the memory, I saw Frederick’s eyes open in that bed just like the day it had happened. I could tell that his wheels were turning. Resisting the urge to say he was doing so good . . . . which is what I had been singing to him for the last few days. Instead I just observed him thinking and pondering. What could be going through his head? He looked up at me. I smiled. And then he spoke to me in a weak voice, words that I will never forget. “Mom.” 

“Yes honey.” 

“Member Pirates Caribbean?” 

I heard it loud and clear. My heart in my throat, “Yes honey, I do remember Pirates of the Caribbean!” 

To think, that God was using our family fun moments to comfort my boy in the midst of the hardest struggle he had ever had to endure. He used them to intervene in Frederick’s anguish, placing hope on his heart in a way that only he could understand. What a beautiful rainbow promise! As Frederick and I reminisced together God also whispered in my ear, you are doing everything right. Don’t fret about what you could have or should have done. You ARE the perfect mom for this boy. I’m on the deck. Take courage, I’m the great comforter! I’m the great healer! 

A car pulled up beside me which jolted me back to the parking lot of my son’s pre-school. I looked at my watch, time to pick up that little guy. I heard again whispers of truth, do the best you can and let me do the rest. Your actions are sweet smelling sacrifices to me. I accept it all and use it for the good of what is to come. “Let go and let God” I told myself as I opened the car door. The daily storms of our life will pass. As I walked to the front gates of Frederick’s pre-school I felt as if Jesus himself had yet again climbed up deck and demanded those waves to stop yelling at me. BE STILL! There were more important things to think about. Thank you Lord for my rainbow promise! Help me take joy in doing the things with and for my family that creates the kind of memories that last. Later that day my Facebook status was not a list of things to do. It read “Islands for Dinner!” It was Frederick’s choice. Family fun night was back! 

Fried Nuts

“When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child...”

SHIRIN: 4 years old

FREDERICK: 2 1/2 years old 

Frederick enters the front room to play his drums.  Shirin is standing in the middle of the room pushing out her belly.

Frederick: Shaween, augh doooooooing? (Shirin, what are you doing?)

Shirin:  I think I am a big bully. (I think I have a big belly)

Frederick: Ot-a-in. (Not again)

Shirin:  I ate too much green strings. (I ate too much string beans)

Frederick: I-a-a Dreget Drum! (I’m going to drum on Frederick’s Drums!)

Frederick starts to play his drums.  Shirin dances to the music with her “big belly”.  A fly decides to join the fun.  Frederick spots the fly, stops drumming and screams.

Frederick:  Beeeeeee!  Beeeee!

Shirin: It’s a fry because it is back.  (It’s a fly because it is black!)

Shirin disappears for a second and reappears with a fly swatter.

Frederick: Shubel?  (Is that a shovel?)

Shirin: It’s a fried sweater that fights bugs! (It’s a fly swatter that fights bugs!)

Frederick watches Shirin as she tries to swat the fly.  Shirin uses her best fighting sounds as she swings the fly swatter around in the air and hits various surfaces in the room.  Shirin ends every swat with a fighter pose.  The “fight” makes Frederick giggle.  The giggles become a nervous cry-like giggle every time the fly gets too close to him.  After many attempts Shirin finally makes contact.  

Shirin: I got it!

Frederick points to the fly.

Frederick: Her name? (What is that?)

Shirin:  It’s a fry!  (It’s a fly!)

Frederick looks unsure.

Shirin: Bees live in big farts! (Bees live in big tree barks!)

Mom walks in.  Both kids are staring at the squashed fly on the floor.  Shirin is close to it and studying it intensely.  Frederick is not so close and looks unsure.

Shirin:  Mom, I squished a fry and it’s nuts came out! (I squished a fly and it’s guts came out!)

Mom looks surprised.  Shirin uses the fly sweater as a pointer.  She points to the fly with her chest out.

Shirin:  Fried nuts! (Fly’s guts!)

Mom:  Wow, good job Shirin!

Mom can tell Frederick is uneasy. He reaches for her.

Frederick: Old you?  (Will you hold me?)

Mom:  What’s wrong Frederick?

Frederick: Beeeee!

Mom:  Don’t worry Frederick, it’s just a fly. It can’t hurt you.  I don’t like bees too but it was not a bee.  And if it was we would have opened the window and let it fly out.  We don’t want that yucky fear in our heart.

Shirin: The fry made Frederick up-sweat so it had to supper the cwon-sin-quens-es. (The fly made Frederick upset so it had to suffer the consequences.)

Frederick: Like it.  (I don’t like it.)

Mom: I know you didn’t like it.

Shirin:  And I won it!  Pretend you ordered me from Shirin.com to fight the fry.  Pow!

Shirin makes power fighting moves in the air.  Mom giggles as she picks up the dead fly in a tissue and throws it in a nearby trash can.  Frederick becomes less tense and starts to smile. 

Mom: You are a worrier Shirin and always will be.  God will order up some Shirin as you grow up in your faith.  I pray that you will be wise in your fights!  Pow!

Mom tries to throw a power punch herself.  It makes both kids burst out in laughter.  She looks down at Frederick as he goes back to his drums.

Mom:  And you Frederick, as you grow up in your faith I pray God will give you courage and that you will trust Him.  He will use you and your drums to help others have courage too.

Frederick starts to play his drums and hums a rocked out version of “Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star.”  With her fly swatter weapon in hand, Shirin dances a warrior dance all around the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1 Corinthians 13:11

When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.

The Battle of the Food Face

“But solid food is for the mature…”

SHIRIN:

Shirin sat across from her little brother Frederick at the dinning room table waiting for her lunch.  Watching her mom get it ready she tried to imagine what it might look like today.  Arranged in a shape?  Maybe a star or a sun!  “Maybe de food will be a car Frederick!” Shirin knew that her little one and a half year old brother loved her Little People cars.  His first birthday was the theme “anything with wheels.”

Clueless, Frederick started his latest little chant.  “Ba, ba, baaaaaaaa.  Ba, ba, baaaaaaaa.  Ba, ba, baaaaaa.”  Repeating it over and over again.  Shirin joined in and she could see his face light up and continue with even more conviction.

“Ba, ba, baaaaaaaa.!  Ba, ba, baaaaaaaa!  Ba, ba, baaaaaa!”  Bringing the lunch plates over Shirin’s mom joined the fun.  “Ba, ba, baaaaaaaa!  Ba, ba, baaaaaaaa!  Ba, ba, baaaaaa!”  All together and right in beat they got louder and louder until Shirin’s mom set the plates down in front of them.

“A face!”  Shirin screeched.  Cottage cheese as hair, olives for eyes, a cheerio nose with one lunch meat shaped as a smiling mouth!

Shirin’s mom handed her a fork.  “You are 3 Shirin, you have to use this to eat your cottage cheese!”  The excitement from just a moment before dwindled as Shirin contemplated having to use a fork!  There is nothing better then letting her mushy food squish between her fingers, scooping it up into her mouth and feeling it all over her face.  It was exhilarating.

After giving her fork a solid stare down, she looked over at her brother who had already gobbled up 3 bites with his car spoon.  How could he have better coordination then she could ever muster up? Shirin studied his perfect technique.  Such control!  When a dot of cottage cheese got on his finger he quickly lifted his hand for her mom to wipe it off. “Augh, augh!”  Acting as if his finger was scarred for life, he was not able to continue eating until it was clean.  His anguish puzzled her.  Looking again at her own food face, its lunch meat lips seemed to talk to her... eat me!  Shirin decided to stall.  After all, she could use her hands with everything else.  So there! She thought with a final glare at the fork.

“Mom, I ate his eyes… look, he can’t see!  Now no nose.  Bye bye mouth!  He can’t say bye! ‘Mmmmm Mmmmm.’  Look mom, no mouth.  Bye bye hair!”

“That’s nice honey” Shirin’s mom said from over her shoulder as she cleaned up the counters in the kitchen.  Caught up in disassembling her food face she completely forgot about the fork.  Scooping up the cottage cheese Shirin let it settle in all the curves of her hands.  A tight fist let the cottage cheese seep out of any little crevice.

“The hair is falling!”  After the death squeeze Shirin licked up what was left in the palm of her hand.  Leaning down like a puppy, she sucked more right off her plate.  Cottage Cheese finger painting was added to her slurping as her clean, untouched fork lay next to her plate.

“Shirin!”  Her mom said sharply.  Shirin jerked her head up making cottage cheese fly everywhere.  “What are you doing?  I told you to use your fork!”  Oh no, she had forgotten about the fork.  Her mom hurried to her with a wet cloth wiping up cottage cheese from all over the table, Shirin’s face, nose and even chunks in her hair.  “Oh man Shirin, you are a mess!  You’re getting too big for this!”  Her mom was clearly agitated; her regularly gentle hands wiped Shirin’s face with an unusual intensity.  After she was all clean Shirin’s mom looked directly into her eyes, handed her the fork and calmly said, “Eat what is left on your plate with this.”

Shirin gazed, as if it were the most foreign object ever placed in her hands. She remembered trying to use this fork so many times before.  Most recently at her sweetheart birthday party last week.  Her Grandma Gwen had baked heart shaped mini cakes for the kids to decorate.  Shirin’s master piece had frosting, sprinkles and heart shaped candy on top.  The pink fork seemed flawed so using her hands to digest her marvelous work of art was inevitable.

Why did her mom insist on training her in this method of eating? She tried to scoop up the cottage cheese but it fell right off the fork.  Out of frustration Shirin lashed out, “I can’t do it! It falls off!” 

But her mom would not let her off the hook.  “Take a breath.  Don’t give up.” The fork was replaced in Shirin’s hand again and again until she managed to balance it.  So much effort just to get one little nibble in her mouth!  It went faster and was more enjoyable to use her hands.  Every single failed attempt tensed Shirin’s body until at last she was shaking her fists at her inability to keep anything on the top of that fork.  Frederick was done and off in the next room playing with HER little people, how fair was that?  Finally after what seemed like an eternity of fork scooping, cottage cheese dropping and grouchy grumbling the last bit of cottage cheese made it into her mouth.  “Good job honey!  I knew you could do it!”  Her mom said after the last bite.  Sliding off her chair, Shirin could sense a slight feeling of accomplishment, but still could not see anything “good” about the fork.  With a mad dash toward her toys, Shirin could not get away from the table fast enough!

“But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil.”

Hebrews 5:14