Happy I DID IT…………………………….…….01/11/16

   I did not want to become a crabby old woman and I was fast getting there. I needed to make life more pleasant for myself, needed to stop housekeeping and meet new people.  So I decided to move into Seacrest Village.  I have discussed the possibility, such a change has been on my mind for a couple of years.  It was not easy to uproot and turn my back on the wonderful life that Erv and I had carved out of the muck and mud of Lions Gate.   He left me to handle it alone almost eight years ago.  My safety and comfort were always his prime concern.  So for the first time in many years I made the big decision and moved fast.

   At this time more than a week after the move, I believe I did the right thing.  Everyone that I have run into has been welcoming and kind; those who are not,  simply do not make eye contact.  A woman at breakfast one morning, someone I had not met, was gracious and eager to talk a little.  I learned that she has much on her mind, I offered empathy, that seemed to be enough. There was nothing I could do but listen. Her husband had fallen and broken his hip, she was not feeling hopeful about his chances of full recovery.  But despite the worry and fear she needed someone to talk to,  a listener!  I was pleased to listen.

   I am learning that even “young” women and men in their sixties carry a burden, a portion of the world’s troubles, on their back. Everyone has a touch of something unpleasant or worrisome that he/she is willing (often eager) to talk about; it is clear when the subject is taboo.  We are experienced enough in the ways of the world to know when to back off.  One must tread carefully; show interest but not curiosity.  That requires a delicate balance.  People are as eager to hear others’ stories, as they are to tell their own.  Next week at our table we are going to discuss the event in our lives that was the most frightening, scary and threatening.  We discussed the subject and decided “it is not going to be easy, but we will get to know each other better.”  

   The idea of getting to know one another better is consistently a top priority; it is why we have come together here.  I find the folks around me interesting.  We are a variety, a cross-section of the American Jewish Community that arrived in America from many places and then made geographic choices that frequently depended on the kids’ location.

   So at 93++I have moved to the Seacrest Village retirement home.  Moving is never easy.  Packing up to go some other place is never a quick sprint.  The baggage we accumulate over the years and through different emotions is a heavy burden that comes along with us, it is not to be shaken off.  That baggage has made us who we are today.  I relish the knowledge that I will no longer have to plan my meals or arrange for the cleanliness of my walls.  The perks are great.

   Of course I miss the independence of choosing when to eat, but I retain the privilege of choosing what to eat, there are choices and substitutes.  Yes, I find I can even have scrambled eggs for dinner, if that is my choice.  Dessert will be my downfall because there is always ice cream.  At home I did not do dessert…but now it is there to be enjoyed.

   As I am not trying to entice a man to my room, who cares about the waistline?  I have already had a visit to the gym to offset my indulgences.  I am happy that I have moved to Seacrest.  I am surrounded by people who are eager to be friendly, to have fun, to enjoy good food and to feel safe.  At 93++ I cannot ask for anything more!

  

  

  

seemlessaging2: Lost My Old Blog Location

seemlessaging2: Lost My Old Blog Location: I lost my old blog address and can

A Visit with Family                                                      August 3, 2014

 

     I took a trip on a plane.  I was nervous before I left, went through all the usual questions: what have I forgotten, did I count out my meds properly and take extra? Did we consider the traffic in the morning?  I do not want to miss the plane!  By the time I was settled in a wheelchair next to my gate, an hour before boarding time, I relaxed and picked up my book.

     My niece Amy had sent me a lovely invitation.  It was special because the invite included a ticket and hotel reservation with all the comforts I could wish for. The occasion was the summer visit of Rachel, Amy’s daughter who lives in Israel. Rachel brought her three young children with her: Ari 9; Micah 7 and Tamar 2+.  Amy’s grandchildren are my great grandniece and great grandnephews.  They are a delicious crew.

     I have one grandson who is 26 years old.  I love him dearly. It has been awhile since I have had small ones with whom to play.   Ari and Micah were polite, patient and helpful.  They told me stories of what they were doing in Lego Camp; their manners were fine-tuned.  They are delightful.  Two-year old Tamar has so much on her mind: her primary concern is keeping up with her big brothers.  She eats them under the table, she “borrows” their snacks and when she is told not to finish Micah’s chocolate milk, she does of course drain it.  The boys are remarkably patient with little sister. She will howl when one of them finishes her abandoned muffin.  But all she gets when she grabs their food is a dirty look.  I saw none of the arm-twisting that I experienced when I annoyed my big brother.

     My grandniece, Rachel is a dear.  She and her brother Aaron spent many Chanukahs with Erv and me.  Over the years Rachel has been especially caring.  When they moved to Israel four years ago, I was sad.  Though I have visited the State of Israel many times, long trips are no longer possible.  I have to be satisfied with their summer visits and many emails.  At this time, during the present problems between Israel and Gaza, I asked Rachel if they were indeed going to return home.  She answered as a true Israeli, “Of course we are going home, we live in a safe area and the boys will be going back to school.”  I did not argue, the subject had no place to go.  Amy and I will pray and worry, maybe even share concerns. My visit was short but thoroughly satisfying.  How nice it was to see that the boys are big and bright like my brother.  The little girl is independent and somewhat of a mischief as was I. Guess it’s in the genes.

      My trip on the plane was delightful, not a moment of discomfort.  Why was I nervous?  My friend and neighbor who transported me to and fro, was waiting for me; before I had time to worry I heard my name.  Yes it was a good trip!

    

    

 Judaism, A Choice?                                                            July 14, 2014

   This story is hard for me to write.  Nevertheless, it is in my head, keeping me up at night, it is a subject that needs to be confronted and I have been chosen.  Many years ago, my husband and I faced the fact that we were unable to have children biologically.  It was before the days of artificial insemination and surrogate moms.  Together we decided to adopt, neither of us could imagine life without kids. Today, almost 65 years later, I am alone yet I can see my Erv nodding his head vociferously, as I say, “I am happy that we adopted Judi and Jeff. They made us a family, totally different from one another, they contributed to the fulfillment of our dreams.”

   Of course infertility is a blow, it is handled more intimately today and for many, more satisfactorily.  I had always been an advocate of adoption.  That is not why I sat down, driven to write.  We must rewind back years, to the month before our grandson was born.  Over dinner with Judi and her husband John, who is not Jewish, we began to discuss the blessed event.  Erv and I were excited to welcome our grandson.  To our astonishment and John’s as well, Judi stated that there would be no Bris.  That meant a circumcision in the hospital without blessings and celebration, without Judaism.  But that is also not why I sat down at my computer.

   We did the best we could do to teach our grandson about Judaism.  We encouraged festive Fridays, Erev (pre) Shabbat visits, his parents frequently joined us for Shabbat, Chanukah and Passover; we were requested to do no more.  He learned much about Judaism by osmosis. His grandfather was a rabbi, how could he not learn?  Once, as a teen, he stated that by the time he was 20 he would become a Jew.  His parents did not encourage a religious belief.  Our daughter, who was consecrated and confirmed in Judaism, does not believe in “organized” religion.  That is certainly her right.

   Now to my point: many children without a religious identity often embark on the search for their truth, a faith, they seem eager to fill in the spaces.  Not every child raised in a non-religious family, goes through a search, each child is different.   As far as I know, my grandson reached age 25 before he seriously considered who he was.  Perhaps one has to stumble on an obstacle, a glitch in the road, disappointment, before realizing that something is missing.  When he raised the question with me, he said, “How would you feel if I chose Christianity”, I gulped for air.  I quickly decided to be direct, honest.  I said, “If the choice were mine, I would choose Judaism for you.  But I understand the choice is not mine.  If Christianity gives you the support, the encouragement, the strength that you are looking for: God Bless you!”  It was not easy; it is not easy.  I believe however, that our adult children and grandchildren need to make their own life decisions. If they make mistakes, they are responsible; they will have to rectify errors.  We cannot take these young and not so young adults by the hand any longer and lead them.  I do believe that we did the best we could do. By the time they are adults, they know what we hope for and what we expect.

     The change my grandson is considering, is painful for me.  He knew that, he had the sensitivity to ask how I “felt” about it, he added “I will go to synagogue with you.”  All this proves that he loves me as much as I love him.  That does not take the pain of the now away.  If, on the other hand, he makes a choice that will motivate, lift him up and help him find himself, I must be grateful.

     Certainly I wondered if we failed, could Erv and I have made my grandson Jewish?   Could we have made our daughter more dedicated to Judaism?  That is the tortuous game of self-blame we Jews indulge in frequently. It accomplishes nothing except to bring enormous guilt front and center.  I will not play that game.  My best advice to myself, and to others in a similar situation is to continue to love that child and let him know it.

July 7, 2014    LOVINGKINDNESS….

   Mindfulness, we know, helps us concentrate on the present, its roots are in Buddhism. My new favorite magazine “The Sun”, discusses “lovingkindness”, it also has roots in Buddhism.  Lovingkindness enables us to move on to be warm hearted, generous, accepting, giving, caring. I cannot imagine anything better than to focus on the moment with a warm hearted caring spirit.  Only then do we dare relate to the other in the room, to become involved without barriers of suspicion, anger or guilt.

   Warm-hearted brings love. Love is a healing force that not only opens us to the good and the bad, it teaches us to focus on the positive so we can handle the bad things that happen to good people! “Love you” has become a spontaneous attachment to our conversations. It is important to understand there is more to “love” than romantic, physical, sexual love. This younger generation seems to understand that more than we did, it uses the word “love” with far greater comfort and spontaneity than we ever did.  Sure we loved our parents, love was on automatic in most families so much so that many forgot to say, “I love you.” 

   Verbalizing was difficult, we seldom spoke of “loving” someone unless it was a new crush or our best girlfriend..  Today we get off the telephone after having spoken to a friend and frequently say, “ I feel so much better, she is so good to talk to.  I love her”?  It should not be an issue that we really love those friends who listen with understanding.  I recently startled a close friend when I rang off with  “I love you!”  We had had a wonderful visit on the phone. My generation is still “touchy” about using “love” in general conversation.  Have you ever been stiff-armed when trying to give one of us a hug?

   Today we understand it is appropriate to have strong feelings defined as love for other than a spouse.  The feelings we share with a spouse are special, exciting, sexual, and yes, frequently monogamous.  In my marriage those feelings were unique, they were ours alone to share with each other.  That did not exclude the love we felt for our parents, our siblings, our children, our friends, doctors, teachers. It also did not exclude the work we love, the reading we adore, the sunset and the special places we love.  Love is a many faceted emotion. Every day provides an opportunity to share positive moments, moments of love with other people and with things that please us. When we offer lovingkindness we are offering the very essence of love, the unselfish giving part of us.  Love can banish fear, anger and guilt; without those negatives we become healthier and happier. Try a little lovingkindness, it’s good for you!  They knew this back in Buddha’s time, when did we become so ignorant and puritan about love?  

Locked Out!!!                                                                         June 27, 2014 

 

We have lots of things on our minds most of the time: anxiety about a distant child, concerns about the economy, our own health and well-being, our kids welfare in general, how far will the dollar stretch before we ask for help.  I never worried that my child would lock herself out of her house, that her spare key was beyond reach (at my house), that she would need my help even as she knocked on a neighbor’s door to use the phone.

When I received the call on a late Thursday afternoon, I was momentarily lost.  If I drove, no problem; if my twice a week aide were on duty, no problem, if I had a visitor with time on her hands, no problem.  “Mom, can you help me I do not feel close enough to my neighbors to ask for help, but you have friends who are always eager to help you….?”  So, of course I made calls: the first one had an appointment, the second one was not at home, but bingo, a kind, non-judgmental, giving friend was at my door in ten minutes and we reached Judi with the key in fifteen.  She was grateful!  So was I!

There is a lesson in this episode that applies to all of us.  Anyone of us can press that lock button inadvertently and find we are outside without keys when we only meant to empty the trash.  A spare key has to be someplace closer than six miles away.  In my neighborhood, we have extra security and the security has my extra key, a quick call to them would bring immediate help.  In Judi’s case, there is a manager who most likely would keep her spare key.  I am sure her neighbor who once in an emergency fed her animals, would keep her key.

Being friendly and close to neighbors comes more easily to some of us than to others.  Tucking a neighbor’s key in a safe place does not make us bosom buddies, it does  require that we are trusting friends who care about each other’s welfare.

We can always hide the key in a remote place that thieves would never consider.  At the time of need what assurance do we have that we  (seniors) will remember that special place?  Better to trust a friend or, I guess, Mom!

    

 

Double Peak

Double Peak………June 19, 2014

     We were headed to a party, I had managed to mix up the time.  My friend and I found we had an extra hour “to kill”.  We had choices: we could return to my house and fiddle around with the beeping smoke alarms.  Or we could go our separate ways and meet for the party later.  We decided to take a ride, climbed the hill to the end of Double Peak.  It is a spot I love; it displays a 360-degree view of our town, mountain peaks from a variety of our California ranges, the Pacific Ocean in a quiet pacific moment!

     Frequently I have gone to the top to view a magnificent sunset.  No sunset this evening, we were too early.  But the sunsets are not the only feelings one experiences at Double Peak.   The end of day quiet was at once spiritual, relaxing, comforting.  I had had a hard day with doctors and their X-rays, EKGs and lunch breaks.  The low, misty clouds were almost ethereal in their formations.  Together my friend and I enjoyed the moment as an unwinding of the day that wrapped us in nature’s beauty and our own quiet introspection.

     Our end of day timing turned out to be perfect.