Don't Make a Fuss

Hello and thank you for stopping by. I'm not really sure how to start, so I guess starting at the beginning is as good a place as any. My name is Michael Versandi. Carol Versandi was my mother and this blog is dedicated to her memory. I wish I could say that this website was nothing more then just an online portal for friends and family to come together and share stories or fond memories. Don't get me wrong. It is - and that's what I plan on using it for, but it's also a plac

Out of all the posts on this blog, this is by far the hardest one to write. Today marks the one year anniversary of the day my mom died. February 1st 2014 seems like it was eons ago. And at the same time, like it just happened. It's still so fresh and painful, it doesn't have the luxury of being a memory. The fact is, I'm hard pressed to remember anything else that's happened in the past 12 months. The events of that day, not just the phone call, not just the shock and

I've mentioned that my mom used to call me, and more specifically, my general behavior "peppery". It was a polite way of calling me a "smart ass". And even though she wasn't always thrilled with my antics, she did know the difference between a "youthful indiscretion" and a "punishable offense". The following is a great example of this. And while it's not a great overall story, it does illustrate the type of person she was and how nobody, not even the cops, had the right to me

I've mentioned this before, but one of my mom's most prized possessions, was the dinosaur statue she bought back in 1971 off of an old Sinclair Gas Station that was going out of business. "Prized" is not really an accurate description. "Sacred" would be more appropriate. She loved this dinosaur more then anything else in the world, with the exception of her children. She always said "When I die, I want to be buried with the dinosaur!" And for the most part, she was serious. F

11 years ago, my wife Amanda and I rescued our dog Lulu from the Brookhaven Animal Shelter. Anyone that knows us, knows Lulu. We're a team. A packaged deal. In fact, she's more a part of my family then I am. She certainly gets more attention. That's for sure. Anyway, shortly after getting Lulu, we took her for a walk around the neighborhood. Getting her acclimated to her new environment. Giving her time to stop and sniff the roses. Both literally and figuratively. While walki

This next story comes from my cousin, David Annunziata. Thank you Dave for sharing this. If you knew our family, there was one thing -for one day -that was set in stone…. We somehow were getting together for thanksgiving! It was to be at Aunt Carols house… Once there we were to say what we were thankful for. We were going to have the world’s best French onion soup, followed by course after course after course. Which sort of ties into my past blog about the walk of shame Mike

Today marks the 40th anniversary of the Defeo murders that sparked the whole Amityville Horror legend. You can read the story by clicking here: And since Long Island is known for exactly three things…Billy Joel, Amy Fisher and the Amityville Horror house, this story has been getting a lot of front page attention lately. I know that might not seem like a great set up for a story about my mom, but bare with me, I'll get to it in a minute. First a brief history lesson. The house

I'm sitting here, shaking my head and crying yet again. Today would have been my mom's 71st birthday. I don't know what to say or what to do. This is the first time in 41 years that I have not spent this particular day with my mom. And I absolutely can not believe it or understand why. They say the first year after someone dies is the hardest. Going through all the "firsts". First Christmas. First Thanksgiving. etc. And even though she died over 8 months ago, I haven't had to

Well, it took me long enough, but I finally started attending grief counseling therapy. It’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a while, but due to various circumstances, haven’t been able to start until just recently. It’s a group session with other “adult children” who have recently lost a parent. So basically, we’re all in the same sad little boat. There are strict rules about confidentiality, so I’m not going to talk about anyone in the group or what has been divulged.

Life is filled with defining moments. Everything from small, seemingly inconsequential experiences to large life changing events. It could be something as trivial as shaking someone's hand or reading a new book or even trying a new food that leads you down a path you didn't anticipate or expect. Or it could something monumental like finding true love, having a baby or the death of a loved one. Defining moments don't determine who we are as people, but they do create chapters