And now we grow...

As 2010 rounds its first corner, I find myself standing back a great distance, looking at my family. After spending so much time scrutinizing the microscopic anomalies, the confusing little tidbits, the deformities; I find myself standing back a great distance, trying to see the bigger picture.

My family underwent a number of metamorphoses during Christmas. Some of these gave birth to butterflies and others left us with moths dancing around the last light of some played out argument. It was the strangest sensation - feeling my family pull apart at its seams while simultaneously growing stronger. The conflicting forces left me disheartened to say the least.

There's only some peace in silence; solace from the distress of unwanted company. Even in the silence, there's the noise of your own thoughts. I did my best to reach out to my family and talk - if only to say"hello" - and break the silence.

Warmer and warmer. A smile felt through the phone. The heavy hate that lined my stomach finally being cleansed from the body.

I think standing this far back I realize how difficult, yet blessed these last few months have been for us. Christmas began with the most overwhelming, emotive love I've ever felt. Conversely, I also experience what I think it truly means to have love taken away from you.

I say I'm blessed because I realize that my life encountered a natural disaster. It's been affected by time affords all living things. Like wildfires that arise and burn every so often - eradicating the brush and the bulk of forests, destroying life, stripping the earth of its structure and peace. After the fires subside and the smoke settles, the dead decompose and fuel new life; stronger life. A more select and stable ecosystem arises.

From this great distance, I see that mine is rising. My family's is rising. We burned to the ground. A new seed was born and planted. And now we grow. And love prevails.

Baby Beers

Well it finally happened. Our family has begun a new generation. On January 20th at 12:16 am, my sister gave birth to Jackson Beers. I speak often about the ebb and flow of the family dynamic now that both of my siblings and I are in our twenties and navigating adulthood, but with the addition of two baby cousins and now a nephew, I realized that the absence of my large Italian family was not an absence, but a time of transition. New children are filling the spaces left by Danielle, Jesse and I. What's even stranger, is that they are our children.

I returned from NY Friday evening; literally jumping out of a production cube and running to Port Authority. I finally fell asleep in the warmth of my childhood room. Around 10:30 am, I received a rather panicked phone call from my sister asking where my mother was. I immediately knew what was going on. I grabbed my Dad and picked up my Mom at the King of Prussia Mall and headed over to Bryn Mawr Birthing Center. Unfortunately, January 19 also happened to be biggest December snow storm since 1907 (or something). What a Cramer move to inconvenience everyone and everything for your big dramatic arrival. The baby already has it figured out.

My sister was a champ during her labor - eating the entire time, standing and walking around, laughing and talking with us in-between contractions. When it finally came time to push, my Dad, Mrs. Beers and I sat outside the door and cheered her on. After 14 hours of active labor, just after midnight, we all heard Jackson cry for the first time.

I can't tell you the flood of emotions that probably pulsed throughout the room, but what I felt was not shocking, but it did take me somewhat by surprise. It's incredible, the amount of love that I feel for Jackson instantly. I'm sure it's only a fraction of what the parent feels, but unconditional love nonetheless. "He has your blood. Isn't that crazy?" I watch and listen as reality falls piece by piece on my sister. It's like everyday is a new revelation in her life. I'm surprised by the lack of fear and uncertainty Danielle and Jeff exhibit - emotions I'm convinced will denote the arrival of my first child.

Thus begins the next generation of our family and they seem completely capable of raising Jackson. This baby doesn't even realize the amount of love he has around him. I hold him and feel like he's my own. I'm excited for his future and helping raise him in our family. It's been quite the Christmas vacation so far - and there's still a week left.

I <3 NY, but get me home.

I haven’t been writing much lately, but I guess that’s a good thing. Over the last few months, my time hasn’t been consumed with trepidations about jobs, income and other matters that have been actively racing around in my head for the better part of the year. Work has been steady – knock on wood – and I’ve been doing my best to push through each week giving 100% to every new challenge.

Right now, I’m sitting on a bus waiting to leave Port Authority in New York City. After my last job in LA, I had planned on returning to Philadelphia early to be with my family. My sister is now two days shy of her dues date and I want more than anything to experience the change our family dynamic is about to undergo.

Instead of getting off the plane and driving home to a warm dinner – I rushed to a bus and taxied to New York. Before leaving LA, I was offered a job on a commercial in New York for a few days. Never having worked production in New York – and lucky to have the chance to make some money right before the holidays – I took the job as a learning experience, as a chance to network and to make some extra money.

The differences between New York and Los Angeles production are fairly overt, but more on that later. I spent the second part of my workweek hustling around the Big Apple. I feel worn out and spread thin by the last few days. As a blizzard approaches the East Coast, I am silently screaming inside my head for the bus driver to get the lead out. I want to be home with my family. I want to go to Valley Forge Park and go sledding with my friends. I want to go a few days without thinking about work.

As Jeff so aptly put it: “Mark’s bloodlust for networking and money” has been satisfied. Frankly, after the last two months, I’m exhausted. With another two weeks still left in principle photography for the Emerson Promo come January, I plan on indulging in the next two weeks. I plan on recharging my battery. I plan on eating a lot of food, having a lot to drink and reveling in the holiday.

Come New Years, I’ll gladly lift a thankful head to the sky for a healthy family and the current state of my life.

Family Ties

It has been over 8 months since I've seen my family. Have I avoided going home? No. Have I tried to go home? Yes. Things just haven't been working out for me in this regard and it is because of this that I have felt a deepening longing to go home and seem my family. I wouldn't say that it's because I want to be coddled and cooed over. Those days are long gone. Nonetheless, there is a comfort about being home, in the house I've grown up in, with the family I grew up with.

I think I attribute this desire to our ever-evolving dynamic as a family. Where most people would account for this change as a point of stress, I find myself drawn to it. I've mentioned before the transformation that takes place after high school and especially after college; that is, where the family undergoes a severe restructuring. Because we are not bound by the nuclear ties of a single roof or our "parents rules," we suddenly become human to one another.

I'm fascinated by the new roles we assume in the family. Yes, the old roles exist, but more as a vestige or a reason for the way things are. Often time, it's a scapegoat and, other times, it's a point of pride. Sometimes we let go and other times we hold on. Still, having spent so much time away from home, I'm seeing each of us - my mother, father, sister and brother - as more or less on a level playing field. We all have our strong suits and our weaknesses. We all have the ways in which we show love and hate. We all have issues.

I've been, and continue to be, intrigued but what makes my family tick. I miss our debates around the dinner table - as much as I also loathe them. My family is growing. My sister is due with his first child in December and a new story begins. Ours continues and I want to catch up and meet the individuals that cared for my as a child in the place they are at now.

OK. I also want a home-cooked meal from my mom and to be coddled... but just a little bit.

23rd Birthday

So, in an effort to feel caught up with this thing, here's a quick review of my 23rd Birthday!

Amazing food. Amazing friends.

Alex tells a good story.

The Odd Couple.

Lady R.

Rachel. Always classy.

Where'd you come from?

Well, if you insist!

I consider myself a very lucky person to be where I am at this point in my life. I've been living in LA a year now - which I can't believe - and I feel grounded and happy with my life. As I said before, my situation changes daily, but even in this uncertainty, there's a great sense of peace and happiness in having a home, a core of friends and a family that I can rely on.

Needless to say, my birthday reminded me that I have a great deal to be thankful for. I have a good feeling about 23.

Spiritual Cleansing?

I've been taking classes at my church, Oasis, for the past few months and this week I started a new one: The Road to Freedom. The class essentially is an opportunity to examine the things in your life that take precedence over your relationship with God, isolate them and rid yourself of them. It's a three week class: Week 1 Introduction, Week 2 Action, Week 3 Follow Up.

I went into this class with a pretty open heart - although, truth be told, I've been struggling with my own demons lately. I've found myself questioning my motives for being at church or in class. I sometimes have this sinking feeling that I'm not worthy of being there or that I'm not good enough. I think everyone feels that at some point or another. Still, I know none of this is true, but as a Christian getting back into the swing of things, that a difficult feeling to push aside.

Anyway, so I went to class, not really knowing what to expect, but available to the concept. Half way through, I noticed how incredibly uncomfortable I was with what the leaders were talking about. The exercise they described really put me in a weird state of mind. I won't go into the details as I don't want anyone to be turned off to something of a similar nature just because of my opinions.

I left that night, deciding I wouldn't come back for this particular class. At the same time, I felt wrong for not adhering to these ideas. I felt that maybe this made me weaker and younger in my faith. I felt guilty that I had decided to "ignore God." So what does one do when they are in a heightened state of guilt? Call mom.

I explained the situation to my mother and before I can finish she says, "Oh this just doesn't sound right for you!!" I tried to explain to her that I felt like maybe because I was so uncomfortable, I should just suffer in silence and complete the course; that I might be silencing a great opportunity because a small discomfort. My mom explained to me (in that way all mothers can make everything seem crystal clear) that spiritual growth was not contingent on suffering. The church is led my human beings, not God Himself. There are many methods for many believers and there is no obligation on my part to participate in every form of spiritual reproof. "And besides, I don't think you're the type of person who would respond to a class like this. I just know you."

I was blessed with a mother who has an incredible intuition and she's right. I have had nothing but positive experiences at Oasis Church and this was the first thing I encountered that made me question the motives of its leaders. I realized that I didn't have to be discouraged about this. Everyone has a different way of worshipping and being close to God. There's no reason why I should feel inferior for not responding to one method.

Thanks for clearing that up mom.

Lesson Two: Family

I realized this break that my family is getting older. My brother turned 21 this week. He’s the last of  the kids. I watched carefully this last two weeks as our family dynamic continued to shape and morph into something completely new. I’m constantly reminded of this by my mom and dad.

“Now, every time you come home, I’ll look a little bit older.”

My mother insists on the reminders of the frailty of life, mostly because of her Christian beliefs – that this world will pass away and all will be left is us with God. The reminders were a little sharper this time around. My sister and I would talk about our jobs, home life, etc. We worried about the future of our nuclear family – where were all going to end up? When would we see each other? Was Jesse’s 21^st birthday the signal to the end of an era.

Again and again, I watched as things were redefined – the holidays, family dinners, the effect of these on each of our emotional lives (all vastly different). Things seem more complicated. Christmas isn’t just a question of what gift will I receive. Now it’s about the people, the baggage, the stress, the spending money. I found myself in a perpetually stressed state as Christmas came closer and closer. I didn’t expect to feel this way. My mom insisted that’s how the holidays were the older you got. It wasn't until I sat down under the tree to exchange gifts that I breathed and indulged in the traditions.

For many people this time of the year is lonely, uncertain, a constant reminder of everything we’ve lost. I’m fortuante enough that this is not the case for my family. Through all of the stress and the perplexity about our evolving dynamic, I saw how strong my family remains. Yes, we're changing, but we're always growing, building new relationships that will carry us into the better part of our lives.