Mortality

Understandably as we grow older, mortality seems to be an ever-present tingle in our minds… and yes, sometimes the thought is VERY scary. We lose folks around us that mean a lot, and we discover new aches, pains, and things that just don’t work as well anymore. But instead of fearing the INEVITABLE (NO ONE ESCAPES!) and burying ourselves in what once was, I choose to look forward.

 

I choose to be thankful for the things and people I have had in my life, and the time I had with them. I choose to be thankful for what I have now. I choose to be thankful for now, who and what I am, my memories, and my ability to hope for a tomorrow. Yes, I still shed tears for people I miss, my parents, my sister, a couple of cousins, a few friends… and yes, even some beautiful pussycats. But I try not to let my tears consume me, and I know that those I love and loved wouldn’t want me to waste a single day or moment that I have left.

 

And yet I can’t help, every time my phone rings at an unlikely hour, and every time I don’t get a response from someone I’ve reached out to, just a little bit of a shudder and a slap of what could be reality… and thankfully MOST of these alarms are simply false as I breathe a sigh of relief. I just don’t ever want to waste a day, I don’t want to waste any time telling someone how much I love them, I don’t want to waste any time cuddling a pussycat. Yes, I want to spend time reliving some of our memories with my loved ones, and I also want to make lots of new ones.

 

And when the day comes when I am gone, and those I leave behind shed a few tears, I hope they will live and love the happiest lives they can… mostly for them (and selfishly, just a little tinge for me). I truly believe the best honor we can each do for our dear loved ones is to live each new day as fully as possible and to remember our shared memories long after we can no longer share.

 

Here is to EVERY tomorrow!

 

MEMORIES

The world is shaped by
two things – stories told
and the memories they
leave behind.
~Vera Nazarian

A few years ago, while we were packing up our home of nearly 40 years, the home where we raised our family, I had so much angst about the things I couldn’t take with me. The last survivors of the children’s school projects, certain pieces of bulky, and often dusty, furniture, and beautiful wall hangings lovingly gifted, or made, by a generation that had already passed on. Letting go of PHYSICAL memories has always been difficult for me.

We had to downsize to move to the beautiful and rural home where Mark & I planned to spend our retirement years, hopefully, without too much clutter. LOL, when you give shelter to a growing family with children still in school, you receive precious trinkets often. Sometimes the glue on those cherished keepsakes dries too fast to hold them together long enough for you to even dust them daily. But with the dust, cracked edges, faded colors, and more, some of these little knickknacks become too treasured to toss. As for clothing, even those pieces worn to wonderful occasions, go out of style, become frayed, or… shudder… just don’t fit your aged figure anymore. And then, of course, the neighborhood you lived in, with nearby stores and other conveniences, and neighbors that you hold dear as friends. There is just so much to be left behind.

So long as we are blessed with our full faculties, memories are the one thing we never do leave behind. We discarded MOST objects that we knew would not survive the move… and some more things we carefully packed did not live through the actual move. After living in our new home for four years, just my husband and me, there are STILL boxes we haven’t unpacked, mostly because there is no room to properly display the keepsakes within. I really do not miss the clutter, and certainly not the ability to “clean” for last-minute company in less than half an hour, but sometimes I do miss the artwork and photos adorning every single living room wall and corner.

I have my memories and in the event that they get a little foggy, I took pictures of almost EVERY arts and crafts project that my kids brought home; I took pictures of the rooms from different angles, not even minding when I caught some of the clutter; I took pictures of cookie jars that I donated (and almost never used myself); I took pictures of the back yard where my kids swam in the summer and sledded down in the winter; and I even took photos of the backyard corner where we buried our pussycats who had lived out their years sharing their purrs with us.

Mark and I have a beautiful home and property. We have terrific neighbors. And one more huge plus, our yard, and the surrounding community are often filled with various wildlife (deer, fox, bear, coyote, wild turkey, birds, squirrels, and more) who willingly share THEIR home with us. And I have my memories…

The ONLY problem I have is digitizing ALL of these photos to save room!

 

 

The Peter Pan Story

 

I was about 5 or 6 years old when my paternal grandfather passed away… he wasn't that old, maybe 58 or 59. I really didn't understand at that time that I would NEVER see Pop again. At his wake (my Dad was Jewish through his mother, not his dad), I had no idea what was going on – and I snuck into the room at my aunt's house where the coffin was, climbed up on a chair, and tried to wake my grandfather. I was shaking him in the open coffin when it was discovered where I was. My aunt scolded me and stopped suddenly; I saw tears in her eyes. My parents took turns holding me and explained that Pop wasn't going to wake up.

 

I wasn't allowed to go to the funeral, I think a neighbor watched my sister and me. My sister (5 years older) gently tried to explain about death and its finality, I think I began to catch on. But when my parents came home, I saw Daddy crying – I didn't think that fathers ever cried. That's when the explanations my sister tried to tell me really hit me… and I was terrified.

 

Daddy wiped his tears, held me, and asked why I was so scared. I told him in my own juvenile way that I realized that growing up meant that our parents would die. I knew that my Mom's father had died long before I was born (I'm named for him) and that reinforced my terror. I cried long and hard on my Dad's shoulder while he tried to comfort me. I kept on yelling that I didn't want to ever grow up.

 

Daddy hugged me, his arms were always so strong and safe, and he asked me if my name was Peter Pan. I stopped crying and looked at him, I had no idea who Peter Pan was. He told me that Peter Pan was the boy who never wanted to grow up. I told Daddy that I agreed. He chuckled.

 

We sat in his chair, he put me on his lap, and he told me, it's true, as we get older, we often lose those who are older than us. Daddy said that's the way it's supposed to be, and then he told me that even though losing people sometimes hurt, he would never change a thing because growing up also meant that you would meet new people and have families of your own. Daddy said that if he and Mommy hadn't grown up they never would have met, and they never would have had "the most beautiful daughters" in the world. And he told me that even though he and Mommy would one day leave this earth, he knew that we would both find others to love and maybe even have our own beautiful children.

 

Daddy died a little more than 17-years after he lost his own dad. My sister had already married and had a son, a grandson who was the pride and joy of both of my parents. I had also gotten married to a man I loved so much. Mommy and Daddy were thrilled with both of their daughters and the "sons" we had brought them. During the days after he passed, I heard Daddy's voice, ACTUALLY HEARD IT, telling me that he was glad I had decided not to be Peter Pan and he was excited about the life I would live.

 

Although my husband and I lost all 4 of our parents just a few years after our marriage, I still feel blessed. Today, more than 46 years after marrying the love of my life, we have two beautiful grown children, a daughter and son, and two wonderful in-law children. We've had adventures and many joys. My sister and her husband had a second son, two daughters-in-law, and 4 grandchildren… and their first GREAT grandchild was born shortly before my sister died.

 

We grew up, and just as Daddy told me, I wouldn't change a thing. I am so glad I wasn't Peter Pan.

 

Invisible

There are those of us who hide invisible illness, chronic conditions, pain and fatigue as much as we can. No matter how we hide sometimes it is unavoidable and it’s frustrating when the invisibility turns you into what others may assume is a hypochondriac or just lazy. While we function at home, in jobs, with our families or running errands around town, and we don’t look for excuses…

 

But sometimes the pain or fatigue gets to us and we need a little time to recoup, to rest, to let an analgesic help a bit, or to simply catch our breath and those are the times when someone, usually well meaning, comes along and suggests that perhaps we should get to bed earlier, or keep moving to stretch the muscles, or not need so many bathroom breaks, and many more bits of advice. The truth is that no one else, unless they’ve been there, understands what we go through and sometimes it actually hurts when they tease and call us lazy or slow. These same people do mean well but unless they see a cane, a wheelchair, a placard in our car window or other aids to help a person function, they just don’t understand.

 

None of us wants to wear a banner across our chests or announce to perfect strangers what our invisible condition may be. Our invisible conditions aren’t contagious (if they are we know how to protect the people around us), they don’t make us any less of a functioning and contributing adult; some children also suffer from invisible conditions. These syndromes can make us weak, cause pain, make us dizzy, short of breath, hungry, thirsty, and make us so tired we can’t keep our eyes open. Most times we manage our symptoms and if we are lucky some of us can even forget for a brief period that we have a “condition” — maybe that’s why it’s so easy for others not to realize that sometimes the symptoms do get the best of us.

 

The following is not a complete list but includes some of the types of conditions that are not always obvious to others: depression, anxiety, Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, Epstein Barr, Chronic Fatigue, Fibromyalgia, Celiac Disease, diabetes, cardiac abnormalities, migraines, Crohn’s disease, narcolepsy, food allergies, arthritis, hypoglycemia, colitis, IBS, epilepsy, Lyme Disease, Lupus, asthma, Meniere's Disease, phobias, hyper/hypo-active thyroid, and many more. Most laypeople reading this partial list will not be familiar with most, if any, of these conditions. There are even several doctors who are unfamiliar with the presenting symptoms and there is often misdiagnosis. Sometimes the patient is even told that it is all in his/her mind.

 

While many with chronic conditions have developed coping skills and can manage work and other activities with little interruption, some people do need extra consideration, and some cannot manage to take care of their home without help or hold down jobs. According to the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 (ADA) “an individual with a disability is a person who: Has a physical or mental impairment that substantially limits one or more major life activities; has a record of such an impairment; or is regarded as having such an impairment.” There may be provisions to help an individual but many of us know that if we let a potential employer know that there may be days we won’t be up to doing our jobs the chances of being hired go down, so we don’t put our invisible condition on record. …when we call out sick too many days, well you have an idea of what happens.

 

The next time you see someone waiting for an elevator just to go one floor, or parking in a handicapped spot (WITH a proper placard) but doesn’t “appear” disabled, or someone asks for help to carry something (and you can help), or even just walks slowly, please don’t be so quick to criticize. Realize that maybe that person coming out of the handicapped stall in the bathroom needed the higher seat because of a back problem. And just because you saw your co-worker dancing at the holiday party it doesn’t mean that he/she can do the walking at the company golf-outing, it just may be an off day. While admittedly there will always be someone who cheats and takes advantage, most people do what they are capable of and know when they need a little help. While some people with an invisible illness may feel comfortable in letting you know about it, they are not obligated to prove anything to you.

 

To your health! 

AND LOOK WHAT GROWS

During the Gregorian month of January, begins the Hebrew month of Shevat, the 11th month of the Hebrew year. Shevat this year begins the evening of January 13, 2022. The 15^th day of Shevat is known as Tu B'Shevat, the Holiday (or New Year) of Trees.

 

The tree’s primary components are: the roots, which anchor it to the ground and supply it with water and other nutrients; the trunk, branches and leaves which comprise its body; and the fruit, which contains the seeds by which the tree reproduces itself.

The spiritual life of man also includes roots, a body, and fruit. The roots represent faith, our source of nurture and perseverance. The trunk, branches and leaves are the body of our spiritual lives—our intellectual, emotional and practical achievements. The fruit is our power of spiritual procreation—the power to influence others, to plant a seed in a fellow human being and see it sprout, grow and bear fruit.
(Chabad.org)

 

When Mark and I moved to our new home a few years ago, we took joy in the amount of land our home was sitting on (much bigger than our previous home). I started to take every seed I could from our fruits and vegetables and planted these around the property… I planted apple, orange, cherry, avocado, and pear pits and seeds. We got a few pine tree saplings and planted those as well. And I even replanted some acorns that had sprouted roots. I have no idea if or how long any of these will grow, but I imagine that one day someone will wake on our piece of property and face a literal forest.

 

In a discussion today about Shevat and Tu B'Shevat, I thought of the adventurous optimism that comes from planting seeds, both literal and symbolic. We plant seeds in good faith that SOMETHING will grow, maybe it will be something we expected… and then maybe not. After all, who knows if the avocado and cherry seeds will somehow grow together? And considering that I left no marking of where I buried these seeds, there could well be a surprise as to what result is achieved. There is excitement and hope that we will see the "fruit" of our labors, and I am sure there will be laughter and joy at whatever happens to sprout.

 

Isn't it so appropriate that we can compare the trees to humans? In life we stake out our personal territory, we "put our roots down", and we spread our ideas and ideals hoping that someone will be convinced and continue spreading these beliefs. We hope to stand tall and be noticeable, to protect our loved ones with our shade, to nurture our families with our fruits, and to drop our seeds to let others grow. And even if we fall or get chopped down, we hope that our form can warm and comfort others.

 

In the meanwhile, I'll keep walking our property looking for signs of growth and am both excited and hopeful at whatever may come to be.

 

 

 

 

December 28, 1975

 

Forty-six years ago my sister fell down a flight of stairs…

 

We were on the way to my wedding. Our parents had already made their way out to the car, my sister and I were the last to leave our parents' apartment when she tripped over the gown bag that she was carrying. She laid crumpled at the bottom of the flight of marble steps between the second and third floors in the Bronx apartment house where we were raised. I don't remember if it was my brother-in-law or me that ran to get my dad.

 

While she laid there in obvious pain, her concern was that she was making me late to my wedding. While my dad and her husband made an assessment about whether she needed to get to the hospital, I ran back into my folks' apartment to use the phone. In the years before the popularity of cell phones, I hoped that someone would answer the phone at the catering hall – no answer and no answering machine to leave a message. I was so frantic that my fiancé wouldn't wait.

 

Determined not to ruin my wedding my sister argued with my dad and her husband that she just needed help to get to her feet. Leaning on the two of them, she managed to hobble her way down to the car. Fighting traffic all the way, we finally reached the site of the planned wedding and reception out in Queens. I cried in the backseat of my parents' car and kept an eye on my sister, brother-in-law and nephew in their car.

 

My husband-to-be's younger brother was pacing across the entryway when we got there. I got out and burst into tears telling him what had happened. He ran in to assure my betrothed that I had arrived and told him and explained about the delay. My mom dabbed my eyes with a cold washrag to try to minimize the puffy eyes from my crying and she helped my sister get her gown on before she got herself dressed in a hurry. Finally, we were ready — the next step was our "First Look" and then photos while our guests munched on hor d'oeuvres in the next room.

 

The ceremony began. My 4-year-old nephew, my sister's son, was our ringbearer… we all laughed when he stopped the ceremony demanding that the Rabbi bless our rings. Then our attendants began their walk down the aisle. My sister, my Matron-of-Honor had a huge smile and looked beautiful as she wore her beautiful gown and a pair of everyday shoes, she couldn't walk in the matching heels she had planned after taking that fall. And Mark and I were married in front of all four parents, our siblings and dearest friends. The reception had its own tsuris (troubles); my mom, a diabetic, had a bad reaction from her worry, refused to go to the hospital and spent most of our reception lying down in the bridal suite.

 

At the end of the reception, in the middle of a snowstorm, Mark and I finally drove away to begin our new life together. It was 45-miles to our apartment where we decided to spend our first night as a married couple and since we didn't have a phone in the apartment yet, Mark stopped at a pay phone and carried me, in my gown, over a snowbank so that I could call my parents and make sure my mom and my sister were really okay. After being reassured, we finally spent a romantic evening as Mr. and Mrs.

 

The next morning, we headed off to our honeymoon in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania. This wonderful week began our wonderful marriage, still filled with lots of ups and downs. Through the years we shed tears as we buried our parents, celebrated as we bought a home, rejoiced as we raised our remarkable children, a daughter and son, watched nephews and nieces grow, survived health scares, and finally retired.

 

Life goes on still filled with joys and tears. This past year we sadly buried my sister, and we celebrated as her eldest son, our ringbearer, became a grandfather. Three years ago, we made a move to our "retirement" home, a beautiful house in the great Pocono Mountains — kind of where it all began.

 

I love you Mark, now and forever.

The Year of Firsts

I posted back in June, my only sister passed away fairly unexpectantly. She was five years older than me and in her early 70s, we had A LOT of time together, I am very blessed for that. It's still a huge change in my life though…

 

As we are nearing the end of 2021, and with all of the holidays surrounding us, her absence from my life is weighing heavily on my mind. This is what I call the "Year of Firsts" — it's the FIRST time that I am doing things differently, doing things without her presence. Although I will always be sad that she isn't here, the "next time" becomes a little bit more normal.

 

We lost our parents in 1977 and 1979 and we had each other for support during the years of firsts (and yes, Thank G-d, we also had our husbands who were total rocks for us). As our own young families grew, we spent many, many Thanksgivings together taking family pictures and torturing our kids along the way, lol. As our own children got older and had their own homes, we didn't have the dinners together, but my sis and I often spent A LOT of time on the phone "cooking together"… this year I didn't have that.

 

I began to think about the upcoming New Year's Eve and how every year we would be on the phone together within minutes of the ball drop in Times Square. That phone call will be missed this year. Her first birthday since she is gone and all the holidays since have been painful reminders that she isn't here, everything was a first. I know that even after the first anniversary of her passing there will still be so many poignant moments, but I will have gotten through it once already.

 

It's not that I am strong, but I do remember all the wonderful years I had with her and all of our memories. I am in the process of writing MY memories down because with my parents and now my sister gone, I'm the only one with ALL of those memories. (And as my daughter said to me, it's a GREAT opportunity for me to put MY spin on everything!) My memories and my blessings are what will get me through.

 

I had my sister in my life for 67 years, a lifetime of secrets, laughter, compassion, sharing, joys and just simple talks. I have my brother (in-law), her husband, who has known me since my teen years and has become more of a brother than an in-law. I have my sister's sons and their families in my life. My husband and our children and their mates got to know her. And I have many little tidbits of advice she gave me (she not only loved to tell me what to do, but she was also a psychologist) that will remain with me forever.

 

While I still shed tears, sometimes more often than I want to admit, I also realize how fortunate I've been to have had ALL the people in my life that have been here — and I am truly so fortunate to have had such a wonderful friendship with my sister.

 

I am halfway through the "Year of Firsts", I'm going to make it.

 

Bobi, I will always love you.

IT'S A SMALL WORLD (after all)

When we were little kids the world seemed so very big and immense. We tried but we couldn't possibly know everyone. But then as the years go by the friends we knew in our "yesterdays" seem to have gone their own way and we don't hear from them much anymore. And yet, so often we find reminders, connections, and sometimes even the people themselves…

 

In my own life there have been so many coincidences where my "yesterday" becomes part of today. In the past few years my husband and I made a move more than 100 miles away from where I grew up (not far from where he grew up). Since living here I found that among my "new" neighbors was an acquaintance from around the corner in my childhood neighborhood and even more recently I found that one of my NOW neighbors is the nephew of my next door neighbor when I was all of five or six years old. Not quite as close to where I live now, but still quite local, is a woman who lived in the same community that we raised OUR children in.

 

Although it isn't coincidence at all, it still is sort of mind-boggling to find distant relatives (many you never even knew existed!) after doing a DNA test; I did 23andME. The few I have been in touch with have amazingly similar attitudes and views… so much so that one 2^nd cousin who lives more than 2,000 miles away, someone I have never met face-to-face and only learned about recently, agrees with me that it almost sounds as if we grew up together! (Genetic memory?) It is ironic to find these long-lost relatives and find out how much you have in common.

 

Another amazing small-world connection occurred nearly 50 years ago when my soon-to-be husband and I were planning our wedding. I was getting our important documents together for the marriage license and such when I noticed that we were BOTH born at the same hospital and BOTH delivered by the same obstetrician 16 months apart! — no, our moms did NOT know each other, and our parents did not live in the same neighborhoods.

 

My husband and I raised our children in a suburban community more than an hour and change from where we were born, so imagine my surprise when I went into a local pharmacy and noticed the pharmacist's name tag, it was the same last name as the obstetrician that had delivered us. I jokingly asked the man if he had any relation to the doctor, and it wound up that the man who delivered me (and my husband) was the uncle of this pharmacist!

 

Six degrees of separation refers to a theory that all people on Earth are connected to one another by no more than six separate individuals. A theory that parallels the idea that “it’s a small world,” it maintains that, through a series of connections or steps, all people have the potential to know one another on a first name basis through mutual acquaintances. (wisegeek)

 

You never know where or when the past and present are going to collide. Don't be surprised, it is, after all, really a small world.

 

LIFE HAPPENS

 

As we go through life there are many "ups-and-downs". As for the "downs", most times the effect is momentary, and we just get on with life. Some of the "downs" do stay with us such as the loss of a loved one, but many find HEALTHY coping mechanisms and get back to living their lives — never forgetting but managing to move forward. And then there are those who find that they need help… it is not wrong to need help, it doesn't make anyone "less" or "damaged", it is just sometimes we need something more than what we can muster from within (kind of like needing medicine to get over an ailment).

 

We can find HEALTHY forms of help all around us. Sometimes we need to speak with a PROFESSIONAL, a counselor or psychiatrist. Sometimes we can speak with a compassionate and well-meaning friend. Sometimes we find the strength we need to move on within a group-support system; as a friend recently said, "who else should I turn to but people who know EXACTLY what I am going through?" So long as you don't balk at the idea that you are, after all, only human and sometimes need help mending after a trauma, it really doesn't matter so long as you don't ignore your pain and let it fester (again, an analogy, letting an infection continue to grow instead of taking medicine will only cause a lot more problems).

 

We are all different and each one of us, AND ONLY THAT ONE OF US, needs to decide when and how to reach out for help. A method which may work for someone else is not necessarily the right method for all. If you have reached out, whether it is a wise-friend, a PRIVATE support group on social media, an in-person group led by a counselor, or a one-on-one with a Social Worker or Psychiatrist, then it is up to you, AND ONLY YOU, to decide if this is the help you need. If you can feel the healing and strength, then you have probably made the best decision for you. If you aren't feeling some form of relief and mending, then it may be time to move to another step. There is NO weakness in needing AND ACCEPTING help. And again, WHAT WORKS FOR ONE PERSON IS NOT AUTOMATICALLY WHAT EVERYONE ELSE (including you) NEEDS.

 

If you find yourself struggling, there are resources (here are just a FEW):

Online Therapy Services  https://bit.ly/3qGXyT8
Alcoholics Anonymous ~ find help  https://aa.org/
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline  1-800-273-8255
Suicide prevention/Veterans with PTSD  1-800-273-TALK [in the U.S.]
Support for Caregivers  https://bit.ly/3Dw4c24
Grieving the Loss of a Child  https://bit.ly/3ck3DfM

(no endorsements are implied) 

  

A NEW BEGINNING

 

In the Hebrew calendar we are celebrating Simchat Torah, the time when public Torah readings in synagogues worldwide is complete. What is important is that we begin again… from the beginning. (The Torah, aka The Pentateuch, are the first five books of the Hebrew bible: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy).

 

It is, in its own way, a NEW BEGINNING, and it comes just two weeks after the Hebrew New Year. The significance of this never-ending cycle is a very comforting thought — life continues, it goes on. And the repetitive readings are like watching a favorite movie over again and finding new meanings and seeing something that you missed last time. With each reading comes a new understanding, a new theory, and a new way of looking at things.

 

It really doesn't matter what faith you are, what you do or don't believe in. Just comfort yourself with continuation. Even in your darkest days, the sun does rise tomorrow (Okay, unless you're in a place where the "Polar Night" lasts all winter, LOL, then you might have to wait several months). Wherever you are in the world, the Earth does revolve and except for the areas close to the Polar caps, we enjoy nearly equal parts of sunlight and darkness. Maybe that is a metaphor for life itself?

 

Sometimes things change, drastically, and yet while there may be adjustments, you continue. You eat, you sleep, you work, you laugh, and you cry. There is no denying that this never-ending cycle is called life. And even when your own life comes to a close (hopefully not for a while), life still continues for those around you. Maybe they look at life a little differently, but life goes on. And for all around you, there are riches and well as tears, smiles and frowns, and perhaps even a little adventure thrown in that never-ending future.

 

We have to embrace each day and take from it what will nourish us and enrich us. We have to teach our loved ones to do the same whether or not we share each day with them. Generations of humans have accomplished this, and hopefully many, many future generations will do this as well. Each day is a gift, get excited as you unwrap it. And just like those who start at the "beginning" again, make your own interpretations and get something more out of each reading and experience again.

 

Grab onto and enjoy each day in this never-ending thing we call life.

 

Highs and Lows

 

Many times in life we can have both moments of happiness and moments that bring us tears. It isn't an easy choice which moment to focus on, but if you find yourself always ignoring your joys and dwelling on your sorrows then you never experience happiness.

 

Everybody has disappointments, losses and worries in their life — but also we find reasons to smile and feel content. Never forget the happiness you’ve shared with someone even on the day that they are no longer be with you, embrace your memories to find strength and hope. In Judaism it is common to offer condolences with the words “May his/her memory forever be a blessing”; these words are meant to help the survivors live their lives remembering not only the happiness they shared, but also encouraging them to live the kind of life the lost loved one would want “you” to have. By focusing on the good times and appreciating the principles taught, you find strength to go on and make your life worth so much.

 

It isn’t only death where we need to focus on GOOD THINGS, it’s every morning you rise to enjoy the sunlight on your face, every evening you find the softness of a pillow to comfort you as you sleep; appreciate every meal as if it were a banquet while it assuages any hunger pains; don’t envy your neighbor for their shiny new car in the driveway when you can sleep in and maybe work from home instead of navigating a traffic jam on your way to work; and enjoy the cuddles of a pussycat instead of bemoaning your temporary loneliness. I learned painstakingly to never say “this is the worst it could be” instead of focusing on the things I did have, don’t make that mistake.

 

It is alright to wish for more, but don’t ignore the things you do have already. Never turn your back on the good things that come your way, don’t be envious of what someone else has and instead acknowledge all the things you do have. And here’s a little thing I’ll let you in on, there is always somebody out there who is envious of the things YOU have. Unfortunately, it seems to be human nature to not only be VERY aware of the negative things around us, but to dwell on them as well. Shiny and ritzy are not necessarily signs of success, money has never guaranteed happiness. Look around you and chances are that you will see good things, things to make you smile, things to comfort, and things that bring you satisfaction and happiness.

 

While you are appreciating your own “good things”, try taking the time to give a stranger a smile, to let a service worker know you appreciate their efforts, to hug your loved ones, and even cuddle with your fur-babies… you just might make someone else’s day. Spread the joy. There’s a reason the word SMILE has a “mile” in it, it goes a long way.

 

MAKING LIFE EASY on YOURSELF

Whether you want to call it “empowerment” or simply just liking and accepting yourself for the way you are, having confidence in WHO you really are and knowing your strengths and abilities can help you live a more satisfying and less-stressful existence.

 

Understand that…

Number-one, YOU can’t do it all, sometimes you need a bit of help.

And number-two, YOU don’t know EVERYTHING.

Taking charge of yourself and being responsible for living the life you want to live does NOT mean that you become that proverbial island that needs no one else. It does mean that YOU are the “Expert of You”, you are capable of making your own decisions, enjoying your own personal likes, and CAN take care of yourself to the best of your ability; yes, sometimes you are allowed to accept a helping hand. Sometimes it is even okay to allow yourself to be pampered a bit and enjoy having someone do something for you.

 

Start your journey towards self-empowerment by examining you: What are your skills and knowledge? What can you do to learn who to do things you want or need done? And who do you have around that can help guide you through new experiences? Make a list of REASONABLE goals for yourself — and by setting a goal, make a plan, set a schedule, and don’t be afraid to revise your list of goals every few months or so.

 

Being reasonable also means that you are honest in assessing your own abilities. Not everyone has the necessary physical strength to move furniture, or is tall enough to reach that top shelf without a step-stool, and not everyone can drive a car (just a few things…). Maybe you do have a “disability”, but most disabilities should not make you totally dependent on others to do simple tasks. What kinds of workarounds can you come up with to level the playing field? Again, what are things you CAN learn to do? You would be surprised how many wives and husbands have no idea how to even balance a checkbook or be able to contact their financial institution for necessary paperwork.

 

If you are in a relationship, you probably find that you like doing things for each other. My late parents used to tell everyone that my mom treated my dad “like a king”, but also my dad treated my mom “like a queen”. Sharing life and doing things for each other out of love, enjoyment and comfort is pretty darn terrific. BUT, never become so dependent that you turn your partner into a “servant” and you forget how to do things for yourself. Relationships should be reciprocal but never a crutch.

 

Positivity is a major factor in self-empowerment. Be positive about you, acknowledge your strengths and don’t dwell on your limits. Avoid negativity, both your own and the people around you. Voice YOUR thoughts, you don’t need permission to speak up about something you like or want. Don’t be afraid to speak up, throw in choices, make decisions and more. Let go of mistakes and disappointments of the past and find things to look forward to in the near future. Don’t worry about what others think, you are the one who lives with you. Recognize all the things you have to be happy about or at least content. Be assertive. Trust your close relationships.

When you feel good about yourself life really can become easier to deal with.

 

 

 

 

Day 352

It’s been nearly a year of isolation. The lack of human contact has finally gotten to me. I long to see someone’s smile. I long to feel the gentle arms of hug.  It seems my only connection with the outside world has been on a computer screen… at least I’ve had that. I couldn’t even fathom living through this without the technology that does provide us with some connection.

 

March 16, 2020, businesses and restaurants were closed in my state because of this scourge they call COVID-19. Life has changed, it will probably never be the same again. Some business has re-opened, maximum capacity is minimal — some businesses are gone for good, financially destroyed forever. There was a time when an evening at a movie theatre was fun, and now it is just a vacant dream as if it never really happened.

 

Each day headlines that appear on online newspapers mention percentages of unemployment and lost jobs due to businesses closing, there are lists of homes being sold by families who can’t afford them anymore, children have been kept from classrooms and parents are concerned that their children will never catch up on their academia, animal shelters have been closed to outsiders making adoption a nearly impossible task. Periodic food shortages, closed fitting rooms, curbside delivery… just so many catchphrases, so many changes.

 

 I read an article that claimed there is an average of nine relatives and close friends who have mourned every death since this pandemic invaded our shores. It’s unfathomable when I do the math. Half a million deaths… “As of March 1, 2021, there have been around 513,090 deaths related to COVID-19 in the United States”…that means there are more than four million people who have mourned for lost loved ones. The numbers are incomprehensible.

 

There’s a glimmer of hope, but we need to be patient. After many failed attempts I finally made it onto a list to receive a vaccine injection. My dreams of LIVING have begun to creep into my daily thoughts. One shot, then wait another 28 days or so for a second, and then another 30 days for the full effect to happen. Even then there is the recommendation to continue wearing masks and to avoid crowds. BUT — there’s the possibility of living life again to see smiles, to hug relatives, to sit in a restaurant for a meal… so many things to look forward to.

 

Three-hundred-fifty-two days to date, almost an entire year and the hope of one day moving on. I look forward to shaking hands in greetings, to watch family children grow-up first hand, and just to be with people.

 

 I can’t wait.

 

 

 

45 Years!

 

I married the love of my life 45-years ago on December 28, 1975 and it has been a wild and wonderful ride.

 

Although we went to the same high school, we never REALLY met there (okay, I punched him one time when he was a hall monitor and attempted to stop me from going to my classroom after the “switch” was over); we actually MET a few years later as volunteers in the NYC Auxiliary Police. I was already a member of our unit when he signed up and, as Personnel Officer, I had to interview him. He passed and was admitted into our unit… but neither of us liked each other, lol.

 

However, as time went on we did eventually go out on a date and we both seemed to enjoy each other’s company… he asked me out for the following weekend. Within two weeks, he proposed, I said NO (not because I didn’t like him, I just didn’t think I was ready) — he was “persistent” and the following morning we announced our engagement. Then I went away for eight weeks to work at a summer stock theatre, he drove up to visit me several times.

 

By the time I returned home everyone wanted to know if we had set a date, we hadn’t yet. On December 28, 1974 we attended a formal ceremony for my Dad at the local J.W.V. chapter, they were honoring him for his community service as the local Auxiliary Police Captain as well as his WW2 service in the Army Corps of Engineers. While there, once again Mark and I received a multitude of questions about the date of our wedding until we both just looked at each other, smiled, and responded “One year from today”.

 

We did start discussing what kind of wedding we wanted, I was all for a small Rabbi’s study with just our immediate families present. Although Mark was easy going, his father and one of my aunt’s made it difficult to plan something intimate. We wound up compromising on a guest list of 90 (approximately 80 showed), both of his folks were pleased, the aunt made arguments right up to the wedding (and no, she was not paying for it!).

 

The day of the wedding was… memorable to say the least. My mom was totally stressed dealing with the intrusive aunt, on the way to the catering hall my sister (my Matron-of-Honor) fell down a flight of stairs and we thought she had broken her leg; trooper that she is, she managed to pull herself together and promised to be able to “hobble down the aisle” for her little sister, and I hadn’t been able to reach Mark (before the era of cellphones) and we arrived so late that he had almost  given up waiting.

 

Everything was finally underway! We posed for an array of photos, and then the ceremony began. We were married!!!!! Then… my poor Mom, a diabetic, had a serious low-blood sugar reaction to all the stress and upset about my sister’s tumble and she wound up spending the majority of party time lying down in the bridal suite while my Dad took juices to her; she wouldn’t leave and go to the hospital. Finally, the end of the party came, my mom was able to be present for the latter half of the party and in time to see me throw my bouquet and leave with my new husband.

 

Maybe we should have realized that our wedding day was a forecast of our marriage with all of our ups and downs, but in the end we drove off TOGETHER excited about our new life. We weathered crazy downstairs neighbors, the deaths of all four parents (in a five year period), a few miscarriages, buying a house, the birth of our daughter, the preemie birth of our son, ups and down in jobs and finances, seeing both of our children grow into phenomenal adults and (after a few false starts) settle down in their own homes with loves that are terrific people, we survived a serious illness, and finally a retirement and move to a beautiful home not far from where we actually honeymooned.

 

In 45-years our love has grown, been tested, and shined even brighter with each new day. I am so glad that he was persistent on the night he proposed — I couldn’t imagine any other life.

I love you, Mark, now and for eternity.

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Eyes Wide Open

 

Many of us have the luxury of growing up “without a care in the world” — yet as life goes on and we face hardship or loss, our attitudes change, our priorities shift. It’s not only the sad times that change us.

 

Try to think back to your childhood; What were your biggest concerns? What were the things you were sure you knew all there was to know? How confident were you that you could handle anything that came your way? Hopefully, as a child, you were able to know love, you were kept warm and nourished, and your biggest problems were which toy you wanted to play with — I was indeed one of the lucky ones.

 

My parents weren’t rich, but they were extremely loving and made sure that my sister and I were cared for. Even if some of our “wants” were beyond their means, they made sure we had what we needed. One of my favorite playthings was a dollhouse made of a cardboard box and plastic toy rejects made at the company where my dad worked. My mom was disabled for as far back as I can remember, but she was always there to talk out our problems, to help us with our schoolwork and to teach us about growing up.

 

Eventually I did grow up. Life was different. My sister was married and a mom herself, and my dad had been sick and it scared all of us, fortunately he did recover. And I had met the man I fell in love with and we got married. Life seemed idyllic as we began our married life in a place of our own and even with job loss and an out-of-control downstairs neighbor, things were going well. Then life changed… a little more than one year into our married life both my husband and I had to bury our fathers less than three weeks apart. And less than two years later my mom passed away. No matter how old you are, when you lose a parent you feel like an abandoned child.

 

We pulled ourselves together as best we could and life went on. A house in the suburbs and we decided to grow our family. After two early miscarriages, our beautiful daughter was born. Life was wonderful, we enjoyed being parents and my mother-in-law was thrilled with her granddaughter. We tried again to expand our family and four months into my next pregnancy my mother-in-law died — and I miscarried again. Life continued changing. My doctor wasn’t optimistic about my getting pregnant again, but quite surprisingly, a positive test came back and at six-and-a-half months, we brought a beautiful baby boy into the world.

 

We went through the ups and downs of their finding their way through their childhood and teen years. Our two beautiful children grew into amazing adults, their individual accomplishments and adventures continued to thrill us. Amazingly we both saw similarities to our four parents (they are named for three of them, a niece is named for the fourth), we admired their activism, their skills, and their compassion. Each had romances, some false starts, and (today) they are both settled down with wonderful mates. Seeing our children grow has been total joy.

 

Four years ago my husband suffered a stroke, he was rushed to the hospital, thank G-d survived and spent the next two months in rehab. I will never forget how, just after midnight on our 41^st-anniversary, the doctor walked in with the diagnosis. I was devastated to learn that my wonderfully strong husband was disabled. Today, four years later, though he has regained several of his abilities, the effects of the stroke remain (which often frustrates him).

 

So in 700-words, this has been my life. My priorities have changed, wearing a fancy dress to a party is no longer the most important thing. Losing our parents, our miscarriages, 9/11, storms we literally weathered, my husband’s stroke and this pandemic has certainly helped me see what is really important. Having my family around, seeing my (grown) children’s happiness in their own homes, knowing they each have good people to experience life with, and still having my husband to grow old with… to quote the song, “these are a few of my favorite things”. Happiness is what you have in your heart, the memories you’ve made, the dreams you still look forward to.

 

In a poem by Linda Ellis, it’s said “what mattered most of all was the dash between those years” (between birth and death). I’d like to think that one day my dash will shine very brightly with my memories, my tears, my joys and the love I have always known.

 

Overwhelmed

Sometimes it just seems like there is never enough time to get everything done… actually that’s most days for me, LOL. I make my plans in the morning and, well, maybe I’ll get some of it done.

It’s rare for most of us to actually accomplish everything we tell ourselves to do. Too many of us actually, metaphorically, bite off much more than we can handle. Or maybe we don’t know how to organize as well as we should? Then again some of us just don’t know when to say “No”.

“If you want something done, ask a busy person.”
~ Benjamin Franklin… or was it Lucille Ball?

Part of the problem with not finishing all of your planned tasks during the day is the resulting frustration and sometimes the feeling of failure. It’s NOT failure if you did manage to accomplish THINGS and you merely optimistically AND unreasonably overscheduled yourself. But then again the next day the cycle repeats itself and the frustration grows. It doesn’t even pay to be a procrastinator, you never manage to get around to it.

And then there is such a thing as life — and somehow life doesn’t seem to stick to a schedule. Something always comes out of the blue to throw all of your carefully planned agenda totally off-track, I mean not even in the realm of completion. Parents may have their offspring’s school suddenly demand an audience. Commuters can’t magically control traffic jams and mass-transit schedules. Sudden family calamities pop up and your immediate response is highly recommended. Office employees may experience their boss’s sudden change of direction. Even home-based workers have to deal with power outages, annoying marketing calls (when you are busy and on the receiving end, it’s annoying!) And then there are always your own personal health issues.

Read up all you want on time-management skills, some of them certainly sound like they would, or should, work, but they are kind of generic.

•  Make a plan, a list of what needs to be done.
•   Be realistic as to how long each step should take
•   Be honest, what are YOUR biggest timewasters?
•   Allow for needed breaks
•   Assume a reasonable allotment of time to “work”– NOT all 24 hours.
•   Prioritize
•   Try to establish a routine
•   But if you get “blocked”, move on to the next task.
•   Organize what you need to work with.
•   Delegate tasks where you reasonably can.
•   And finally, prepare to SCRAP the whole plan and write a new one!

Actually that last step is very important. Once you are conscious of your work/responsibilities/want-to-dos and can assess how long something actually takes, re-work your schedule. You’ll probably have to re-work it every week for a few weeks before you even come close to something that works. And if LIFE (that can be one of those four-letter words) changes, be prepared to change with it. You’ve heard the phrase “Man makes plans and G-d laughs”, be prepared and versatile enough to adjust.

But don’t ever let yourself feel like a failure. 

If it was easy to get everything done for everyone,
there wouldn’t be so many time-management courses
or books being sold.

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