Father Burns - My Spiritual Father

Father Joseph Burns died this morning of December 16, 2006. My mom called me right away to tell me the news. She had called late last night as well to let Tim and I know he was near death. We prayed and I cried - hard. This man was for me a powerful spiritual father - and I love him very very much. He will never be forgotten. I am forever changed, by knowing him.

Father Burns was more than my pastor. He was my friend. He was my advisor. He was my spiritual father. The pastor/parishioner relationship shifted dramatically into a father/daughter relationship when I needed him the most. You see, I was a young woman, (in some ways still a girl) who was pregnant and unmarried. I went to confession to my parish priest and exited the confessional with a spiritual father. He didn't let our relationship end with absolution but continued it throughout my pregnancy, loving me and guiding me all the time.

Those nine months were a tumultuous time of radical change for me, and Tim. Father Burns always sought the best for Morgan, still unborn, never letting his love for me cloud his focus. He wanted the best for my child! He didn't shy away from certain topics for fear of hurting my feelings or Tim's. There were times when he really "let us have it" so to speak. But, he always balanced his seriousness with compassion and humor.

Father Burns witnessed Tim and I exchange our vows on October 3, 1998. But his love and guidance didn't end there. There was many an occasion when I'd enter his confessional only to exit to an empty church. You see, I'd be in there so long that the others who stood waiting would give up and go home! I have to admit as well, that he and I would get a little "side-tracked" and often there'd be belts of laughter filling that little room! I can say this with confidence and with tremendous pride - Fr. Burns liked me! Now, that may sound quite arrogant or even childishly silly to some people. For me, knowing he liked me as a person was one of the highest compliments of my life!

This was a man who was educated, well-read, holy, dignified, passionate, witty, and most of all Christ-like. I respected, admired, and just plain adored him. I never wanted to dissappoint him and I always looked forward to making him smile or laugh. Many stories I'd tell him in great distress, he'd end up chuckling. One such story was of a particularly bad day I'd had at home with my kids. I tearfully explained to him the mischief and hijinks of these

"little people" (that's what he'd always refer to them as) which led me to a full fledged meltdown. In the course of this meltdown I told him "Father then, (sniffle sniffle) I told them 'pack your bags all of you. get your stuff together cause you're movin out!' Can you believe I said that father? "(sniffle sniffle looking down in shame and wiping nose with tissue) When I lifted my head to look at him what did I see? He was grinning from ear to ear and quietly chuckling while he said softly "Oh, Kris (chuckle chuckle) Oh Kris..."

So, we had many a giggle and a chuckle together and I loved those moments. Yet, the conversations which strike my heart with sorrow knowing there will be no more, are the serious ones. His words were spoken softly but they penetrated my heart and soul. He taught me about love - real love. He taught me about forgiveness - and letting go. He taught me about marriage - what it is and what it isn't. He taught me to be myself - "Kris, ask God this. Lord, make me the woman You want me to be." These lessons came from a whole range of topics we'd cover in our time together. We spoke of the poor in the world. He had a special love and affection for the poor. We spoke of injustice and what's a simple person to do about it. We spoke of men and women and their God-given differences. We spoke of family life and money and how we obsess too much over it - money that is. We spoke of abortion and unwed mothers and the best way to serve/support them. We spoke of the root causes of sin in the world today. We spoke - no maybe I should say - argued about politics together. He loved to try to convince me of his leanings and I him. As you can see our talks ran the gamut. This is true of so few people in my life! Mom, Tim, and Father Burns. My mother, my husband, and my priest.

Now, I am lost. Where will I find another like him? Why God did you take my priest? Couldn't You see how much I needed him? Couldn't You see how much this world needed him? Today, you rarely find a priest who is all man and also all God's. So many seem to deny their own God-given masculinity in an attempt to be more "sensitive" while others seem to be more interested in what the world thinks of them than what God thinks of them. Father Burns was neither. He embraced his role as man, as father. He new exactly how to lead with strength and conviction. He didn't bend which ever way the wind blew. He had a great sense of family life and men and women's roles. He loved women it seemed to me. He was a real advocate for mothers. But, he'd let you know that a hard working man derserves our respect and support as well!

Father Burns I love you. A couple of weeks ago my mom went up to see you. She told me of her plans to visit you and I told her to give you this message from me. "Tell him I'd love to kiss his face all over! - I miss him so much!" To which my mom responded "Are you crazy Kris, I'm not gonna tell him that!" I didn't think she'd go through with it considering I understood how some people might think that an inappropriate thing to say to a priest. You see, to me he was like a father - a spiritual father. And what little girl, who loves and adores her daddy dearly doesn't long to climb up into his lap and cover his face with little kisses. That is me - that little spiritual daughter of this great priest - Father Joseph Burns. Turns out mom did relay that message to him. I asked her what his response was and she said he just simply smiled.

A Letter to Uncle Mike

This letter was unread. With earthly eyes anyway. Uncle Mike was too weak to read it when I gave it to him.

I leave it here as a tribute to him...

Dear Uncle Mike,

It is a rare gift - the opportunity to reflect on one man and to consider how he has impacted you personally. I feel blessed to have this time to express to you all that fills my heart when I picture your face in front of me.

First, I smile.

I see you smiling or laughing or both. You are handsome and your eyes sparkle a little, especially when you're laughing. I can hear your voice in my head. It is loud and booming. I'm taken back to an overcrowed kitchen packed for the holidays with food, family, and friends. I'm a little girl and so I can't see anything but the backs of legs. But, I hear you. I know that joyful thunder - "that's uncle Mike" my little heart says and I know that you are good. This is my childhood image of you - handsome and laughing with a joyful thunderous voice.

Years passed and I grew. I came to know you more deeply, more quietly. I am grateful for this.

The quiet man I came to know over coffee, or at the dinner table. The man I asked to be my daughter's godfather. This man brought me even greater joy than the one I remembered from my childhood.

I see your face again. This time it's more serious. You are talking with me. You're listening too. I see us together at mom's dining room table. I'm holding a baby on my lap. You are leaning forward in your chair with your elbows resting on the table. Your hands are folded around your rosary. I love this image, this memory. I can close my eyes and see you exactly as you were in that moment. You're quiet, thinking, discussing and praying. This is my most fond memory of you. I can hear your voice. One petition at that table always stayed the same. "I'd like to pray for an end to abortion" you'd say. You'd say it every time, every time. I can hear your voice so clearly in my mind. Why is that? It's as if I can literally hear your voice outside myself - not in an interior way. That one moment, that one statement, is so vivid it leaps out at me. It is burned into my heart. It presses upon my heart until I can no longer bear it and I begin to cry. Now I cry. I weep. Why am I weeping? The injustice. It bothers me uncle Mike. It is difficult for me. It hurts and my pain is sorrow.

I am sorrowful for my sins, my lack of prayer, my luke warmness, my selfishness. All these have caused your cancer. I know that I am not solely responsible, but that is of no consolation to me. I have in my own way, through my own sins, caused these wounds in you. I am so sorry for this, my brother in Christ. I know that God is Good. I know Jesus is Love. So too then I know that this cancer did not come from Him, but from this sinful world of which I am a part. This is why I am so sorrowful.

You, my beloved uncle, my brother, have shown me Jesus. I see Him in you. I see Him in your simple goodness. I see Him in your humility and patience with others' faults. I see His face in your joy over a garden, or a home made meal, or good music. I see Him in these ways. Thank you for making Him present to me. Thank you for these glimpses. You empty yourself and He is there filling you up. You aren't perfect I know. I don't mean to embarrass you, but to fortify you. It is my hope that this testimony helps to sustain you in your pain and suffering. I see a man who hasn't forgotten that he is made in God's Holy Image. You have chosen to serve rather than be served, to give rather than receive, to love rather than count the hurts and disappointments.

I love you for this witness. You have taught me how to love people as they are. Where they are. Yet, to pray for them all the while. You pray for them to grow close to your Jesus. You seek to love, not judge. To demonstrate God's love, not moralize. You live your life as a witness to Christ without making others feel small in the process. This is the quality I admire most and will seek to duplicate in my own life. I will not be so quick to resent life's injustice. I will try to love others in the moment before me. I will seek out what is good in others and pray for them to become all that God wills them to be.

My third image of you is of you suffering with this ugly cancer. Yet, its ugliness hasn't tainted you. You are more beautiful to me now. I wish you were not suffering. I wish you had no more pain. I wish that I could take all of it away and make you well again. These are the thoughts that lead me to despair. Then, something wonderful happens. Jesus lets me see your beauty shining through it all. Though this image of you now is one of suffering, now I don't see just you. You are not alone. Jesus is with you. I see Him holding you. I see Him holding you in your suffering looking at you like only He can - because He knows. His shining face gleams as he smiles tenderly at you. He wipes away your tears and gently kisses your forehead as a father might do for his sick little boy. His heart is glowing softly. As you lean your head upon His chest for comfort, this glow fills your face. You are beautiful there leaning against Our Lord, Our God.

This is the image I see now. A man, yet a child of God. A man, yet a little soul letting Him care for you. Thse are the images I carry in my heart uncle. First, you are laughing and thunderous. Then, you are quiet and thoughtful. Finally, you are small and lovable.

I am so blessed to have you in my life. I love you as my uncle - yes. But I have grown to love you as a brother in Christ Jesus most of all!

-Kristan

Family at Uncle Mike's funeral lunch

Family at Uncle George's funeral lunch

• Ben and Stacey

Aunt Kathy and friends

Bob Maxwell Family and Uncle Tom and Aunt Ann
















Falaney brothers and their wives













Uncle Jim and Diane

Conner and Patrick

Caitlyn (sp?)

Family Trip in September

We took our first annual family trip this year. We went to Shankville,PA and saw the 911 memorial for flight 93. Then we went to Gettysburg,PA. Gettysburg is awesome! We did a driving tour of the battlefields. The kids were't interested but Tim and I loved it. Then we made a short trip to D.C. We plan on going back there again... Then down to Virginia Beach where we stayed on the beach in a rental house. The kids LOVED that!
They played on the beach and in the ocean as much as possible. We took a day trip to Norfolk, Va and saw all the ship there. We took a boat tour of the bay. Then we headed west into the mountains. We stopped at the D-Day memorial in western Virginia and then headed for West Virginia. We stayed in W.V. had some great room service! and then headed back home...
All in all it was a great trip. Tim and I had a lot of laughs, listened to a lot of good music, and we didn't have to pull over to threaten the kids even once!! A success!!

So, Are You Done? - and other stupid questions...

My friend Dawn is one of the greatest blessings I've gained since Tim and I moved out here to the "boonies". She not only can commiserate with me over a newly cleaned floor covered with muddy footprints, or a pile of laundry so high, that by the time you do it all your kids are wearing different sizes, BUT she also is an official member of the club I belong to. This club is not for the faint of heart. It is easy to join but extremely difficult to get out of. Members pay their dues every day but reap lifelong benefits which are priceless!

This club has seen its membership drop dramatically in the past 20 years. It's to the point where the few members which do exist cling to one another for moral support. The club? - The I.M.T.A. Club - Intentionally more than average. Yes, yes, we actually wanted to have baby 3, baby 4, baby 5, baby.... (don't faint out there - yes it is true. Some women actually do have 6+ children)

Dawn not only possesses a membership to this club of sorts (she's expecting baby #5 in February) but she possesses the one trait I demand of any friend of mine - A great sense of humor! This is quite necessary and highly developed I might add, in those women who have a larger than the national average 2.3 brood. She is a perfect blend of high values and ideals and love of family without pretentiousness or self-congratulation.

She and I have swapped stories of other people's less than enthusiastic responses to our pregnancies #3 and on... I've also spoken to other I.M.T.A. moms who share similar tales of being stopped by starngers at the grocery store and given a lecture on the rising cost of college and the like.

So, here below are some of the things that have either been said to me or to another I.M.T.A. member. Let the pictures at thr right serve as my rebutal!

If it's a boy are you done then?

If it's a girl are you done then?

(as if they're a
coordinating set to collect -
girl as handbag - boy as the shoes to match)

You do know how babies are made right?

So when are you gonna get your tubes tied?

Shouldn't (insert your hubby's name here) get

fixed already?

Girl, get over here. We need to have a little chat about birth control.

Are they all yours?

You don't want any more do you?

If you imply to the above that yes you are open to that then you get...

What? are you crazy?

Don't you know how much college costs?

Don't you want a life?

How many are you gonna have?

My husband has resolved to answer this last one in the future with...

As many as it takes for you to stop asking us that question.

The very common...

Wow! You sure have your hands full.

Which I respond to kindly...

Yep, but that's better than empty right?

My kids are my greatest blessing (outside of my husband of course) They make me a better person. They force me out of any inclination towards self- centeredness or selfishness. Maybe peoples' lack of openess to more children is to a large degree the reason why we have so many self-centered, selfish, ego-driven, parents out there today. I say - Thank God! sex makes babies! It's the icing on the cake!

Here's some of my icing...

About The Pictures

I have quite a collection of images saved over the years. I truly believe that A picture is worth a thousand words. Some of the pictures are disturbing, as they should be! Others are just beautiful. Not enough people understand the reality of the evil we are up against in the world. Sometimes we've got to see it in Bold Colors to get a real sense of things. From abortion or the culture of death in general, to the Muslim threat to Judeo/ Christian values (be it in Israel or here in the U.S.), to our rejection of motherhood and all that that entails - namely babies - to the majesty and power of Our God and King Jesus Christ - these pictures are meant to get people thinking...they sure have stirred up a lot of powerful emotion in me!!

Grandma's Eulogy

My grandma Maine died just a week after we buried my grandfather - her beloved husband. A broken heart? Maybe...I do know that she loved him dearly and that the day he died I was privileged to be there at their home to help her in her grief. Kelly was in and it was a blessing to have her there for gram as well.
The funeral director arrived to pick up gramp's body. We had all gotten a chance for a final embrace and kiss of gramp who laid there on the floor. Some may think that a morbid scene. But I saw it as a real grace. I had a chance to say goodbye and to see gramp as he was despite the fact that he was already gone. People never look like who they are in the funeral home no matter how good the undertaker is.
Well anyway, Kelly and I sat with gram on either side of her as she wept and called out to gramp. Kelly wiped the tears from gram's eyes with a tissue and I held her hand. I felt so lucky to be there for gram and to show her how much I loved her. As Gramp's body came past her on the gurney, she called out to him saying"Everett come back. Everett don't leave me." It was a very powerful moment to say the least. The brothers still realing from the death of their father, asked me to do gram's eulogy as well. I accepted and the following is how I remembered gram at her funeral mass.

Today we remember Vera Maine.She grew up in Chgo. Hts. The daughter of Nino and Anita Vitelli, she shared her childhood with her brothers Tony and Lando and sisters Velma and Rena.
Yet it is her role as wife and mother which most defined her. Like many in her generation she began her life as wife and mother at a young age. She did not pursue degrees or status filled positions. She didn't chase titles o aspire to climb ladders. With the exception of those used to retrieve a little boy if needed.
She was a housewife, a homemaker, simply put a mom. Sounds plain and uninspiring by today's standards. This world often mistakes a life devoted to husband and children as a life of mediocrity.
Today, let us see rightly. Let us see Vera's life through the eyes of Jesus. Then we can fully appreciate the heroic nature of her life's vocation.
Yes, I said heroic. It is no small acheivement to offer up your very body for the benefit and growth of another tiny human being. She welcomed these God's greatest of gifts, 4 times over.
When I asked dad to talk to his brothers about how they remembered their mother he listed a number of things. But, ultimately, he summarized their thoughts like this - "She was, you know, your typical Italian mom."
What does that mean? It means she held little hands while stumbling feet learned to walk. She skissed a 1000 scraped knees. Filled plates with homemade meals and stayed up nights to watch over her little ones when they were sick and in need of comfort.
Consider these acts as just the standard or typical demands of an ordinary housewife, and you miss the greatness of a woman who willingly forgoes accolades and honors and simply serves.
Instead, she finds dignity in folding fresh white towels and stacking them neatly. She finds satisfaction in a pot of sauce long simmering on her stovetop. And honor in serving her husband and 4 sons.
I'd say that's NOT very typical. Anymore, anyway. We live in a world where people are valued to the degree that they produce great results or acheive great things.
Vera was a small Italian woman. I can relate. She lived her life doing countless small things for her family.
Another small woman shared this insight saying - "In this life we cannot do great things. We can only do small things with great love." That was said by Mother Teresa.
Less than 2 weeks ago, we buried Everett Maine, Vera's beloved husband. The day he died she cried out to him saying "Everett don't leave me. Everett, come back to me." She was a woman who did not want to be separated from her beloved. She knew intuitivvely and understood well, the invisible and unbreakable bond God forms between man and wife.
That permanent union she vowed to as a young woman, had only been strengthened through the years. She enjoyed her husband's company. She held his hand often. She walked beside him proudly. She wasn't just a wife - she was Everett's wife. That brought her happiness. It was enough.
We all should be so simple, so unpretentious. To recognize our vocations as the source of our greatest joy. Not our possessions or psitions. And so it was with Vera Maine.
Life is not perfect. It is often painful. Some wounds run very deep. They are the kind only Christ can heal. Vera was blessed to receive this healing love through the sacraments only days before she passed.
The night before she died, she asked for the small crucifix above her bed to be taken down. As she held it in her hands she looked upon our Lord suffering upon the cross and said - "Isn't it beautiful?"
It is. It is grandma.
He knows and understands all our pain, our longing, our sadness, and He waits for us with outstretched arms to come home.
Vera went home to Him.
Now, she awaits our arrival as well.

Where Have All the Real Men Gone?

Luckily, I have been blessed by God to be married to a real man. He's part country boy, as you can plainly see posing with his Christmas rifle. Part soldier, an army sgt. and still an avid military history buff and general lover of all things military. Part spiritual thinker, always looking beyond what this world says matters and getting to the Truth of things - capital "T"!!

Tim is the reason I write today. He believes in me and loves me - but he definitely wears the pants around here too!! In my estimation he is one of the most endangered species on earth - A Real Man.

Every day I hear stories from other women or see it on tv - the feminized man of the 21st century. Bluh! Yuk! Gag! Men act like little boys most of the time who need to be care for and guided by their bossy and/or dominating wives. Worse still, some don't even qualify as little boys but rather full fledged women! Sensitive and emotional and crying on Oprah or some other sort of nonsense.

God had a design for man, and I know it sure as heck wasn't Quear Eye for the Straight Guy! So what has happened to all the real men? Where have they gone? Well honestly, many of them are dying and aren't being replaced. Those men of the WWII generation are the kind of examples of real manhood that are becoming a rarity today. Their own sons in many cases have suffered the consequences of the 60's - namely the feminization of our whole culture. Many baby boomer dads either became so "soft" that they failed to raise their sons to be men or became so self-centered that they failed to raise their sons at all.

Tim is a product of a divorced family. Raised by his mother, an exceptional woman, he had no male role models to guide him into manhood. So, and he would tell you this himself, he did the next best thing - he joined the military, the army to be precise. This is where he learned to be a man. He and I have often discussed this topic and he swears that if only more boys would enter the military this country would reap the benefits. More real men to marry and raise families and be responsible...

But alas, boys today are not knocking down the recruitment officers doors in order to enlist. They spend their time playing video games well into their late 20's and go the way of Extreme Sports (which aren't really sports at all) and long hair with plenty of tacky tatoos. Boys who are athletic and assertive and natural leaders are squelched at the earliest age possible. "Little Johnny, you need to calm down, stop playing so rough, you know it doesn't matter who wins or loses, we're just here to have fun..." "It's ok to cry little Johnny, maybe you need to find a good therapist and go on Prozac..."

So, before I start on a full fledged rant let me end by saying this. I thank God for my husband. He gained a vision of manhood inside his heart's imagination and pusued that vision the best that he could. No, his life wasn't the picture perfect ideal. He had a lot stacked against him. But he never felt sorry for himself. He pushed forward and worked hard and sacrificed when needed. He leads and protects his family like Real Men Do!

Grandpa's Eulogy

I wrote the following as a eulogy for my grandfather who died this past summer.
A little backround may help in understanding it better. My grandfather gre up in N.Y. state
lost a sister to sickness. She was only 16. He was very close to her. Then he went off to war. A sailor in WWII. When he got home he married his sweetheart. Then, they were expecting their first child. She gave birth and she and the child both died as a result of the birth. He had lost everything. He moved to Illinois for work. He lived in an apartment building where a woman was living with her two little boys. She had been abused and then abandoned completely by her husband. This woman is my grandmother. My grandfather married Vera and took her boys on as his own. In fact my dad says he wasn't even told differently until he was 21! My grandfather never treated my dad and uncle Frank any different - they were his boys. Period. End of story. He was a great man. The eulogy I gave follows...

I'd like to begin with a quote. "The principles of living greatly include the capacity to face trouble with courage, disappointment with cheerfulness, and trial with humility." Everett Maine understood these principles and lived them out in a quiet and unassuming way his whole life. His lasting legacy is the example he set for his 4 sons. He showed them what it means to be a man, a husband, and a father. For all those who knew him, he showed them what it means simply to be a good and decent human being.

Everett Maine was born July 5th 1924 in NY state. His family was poor but proud like many families at that time. He learned about hard work and dedication to family. He experienced the great pain of losing his sister. He spoke to me of his sister and of her tragic death. His eyes were filled with memory and affection for her. Yet there wasn't any self pity there. He grew and went on to serve others.

He joined the United States Navy. He fought in the Pacific during WWII. He was proud of his service to his country. Although sadness and tragedy are part of war - he was one sailor who didn't let those things define him afterwards. After the war he came home and married his sweetheart.

It was at this time that he experienced his life's greatest tragedy. At the same time he gained - what he would say - was his life's greatest blessing.
He lost his wife and newborn child as they both died shortly after the baby was born. But God had a plan still.

Loss and suffering did not close a door in Everett's heart. Instead, it opened another through which a whole new family would enter.
Vera and her 2 little boys, Frank and Ronnie, entered into Everett's life and his heart at this time.

The injustice of life often hardens a heart. This was not the case with Everett. He extended himself outward with heart in hand. He gave himself completely to his new wife and embraced his newfound fatherhood, as a gift and a blessing.

Everett and Vera went on to have 2 more boys together, Michael and David. He was hardworking, self-sacrificing, and uncomplaining as a father. He involved himself in his boys lives. Be it as a boy scout leader, or going camping, or as an umpire in little league - he made time to do things with his family.

Not particularly vocal or demonstrative, he chose to express his love and dedication to Vera and his boys with actions, not so much with words. He loved through his deeds.

He raised 4 boys shaping them into the men they are today - all hardworking and successful husbands and fathers themselves. They were blessed to have a father who led by example. He continued setting this example of love as action in his later years as well.

These later years brought with them health problems for both Everett and Vera. His response was to meet these trials with humor and humility. He accepted his own suffering, choosing to look outward once again. The needs of his wife replaced his own. Her suffering moved him to have greater mercy. Her trials only deepened his devotion to her. He fed her, helped her dress, and do her hair.

He saw these needs as an opportunity to love her. The greater her needs - the greater his love.
He made his intentions clear to everyone. When pressed to give up this role and think of himself he would say "I will take care of my wife until the day I die."

And he did.

He understood that time is precious and fleeting. He would not surrender his as her husband to the snares of self-interest and self-importance. I'm not sure what fortified his conviction. I never asked him. I can only presume that he had a deep and enduring belief in what is true and good. This is what we call wisdom - to recognize what is truly important despite the world's distortions and the lure of our own fallen nature.

Everett Maine lived a simple and unassuming life. However, it was far from insignificant. He dramatically altered the course of the lives of those he loved. He did this in an ordinary way. He was love in action.

Considering that, I'd like to close with a quote as well.
"Men of action, above all, those whose actions are guided by love, - live forever."

Not Selfish - Just Human

So, I spoke with my sister overseas yesterday and confided in her many things...
In the final analysis of my psyche she determined that I need two things.
1. More time for me - just me - doing something I enjoy
2. Time with my husband - just us - doing something together I completely agree with her! I always do! I've had the same conversation with her a hundred times and I get the same advice every time. I assure her that "I'm really gonna do it this time" and take the initiative to make a change that will benefit myself and my whole family in turn.
But every time I hang up that phone tha same old excuses hold me back...That would be so selfish of you to leave your children to do something frivolous like work out...Just die to yourself Kris...come on! there's people starving to death in this world and you're complaining about not feeling "connected" to hubby enough and needing an "outlet" for motherhood frustrations? What a self centered jerk you are Kris!
And so it goes. Another pep talk down the drain. Back to leafing through catalogues and eating chocolate on the sneak...then feeling guilty and then on to self loathing...then on to another phone call..."Kel, it's Kris. Got a minute? I need a pep talk..."
So, in comes another hair brained idea - I'll blog! That'll give me a sense of having my own space and time. Yeah right! I've just been interupted at least 5 times while writing this by one of my 4 kids and at one point all 4 at once. Gotta go break up a sibling quarrel...