In Memory of Carol Versandi
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


The Dash
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


She Fought the Law
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

The Day the Dinosaur Disappeared
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

Bianca's Last Stand
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


The Amityville Horror
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


Defining Moments
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


Picture After Picture
This whole "grief" thing is one hell of a roller coaster. I strongly recommend you avoid it if at all possible. It's been just over 3 months since my mom died. Three months since I last saw her. Three months since I last talked to her. Three months since I last told her that I loved her. And three months stuck inside an ever expanding and contracting vacuum of grief. I'm sure you've heard someone say "well, I have good days and bad days". Could be about anything. A job, an il


The Legend of Sona
It's been almost 3 months since my mom died. …I say "died" because I hate the term "passed away". I hate anything that softens or sugar coats difficult situations or experiences. This has been hard enough to deal with as it is…and those that are close to me know that I'm not dealing with this all that well in the first place…I don't need delicate phrases or cushioned observations. "Passed away" sounds like there's a possibly she might be back. "Died" is about as final a sound


The Five Stages
When someone experiences a significant loss…be that the death of a loved one, the loss of a job, an unexpected upheaval or even a negative life changing event; sickness, paralysis, that last Superman movie…it's common for that person to go through what is commonly known as, "The Five Stages of Grief". The Five Stages of Grief are a pretty standard and universal series of emotional states, ranging from denial to acceptance. And in my experience, can and have, fluctuated wildly

