TIME PASSAGES

My dear father passed away on March 8, 2009. Here is a poem I've written in the past 20 minutes relating to that aspect of my life.


For so long

the words didn’t come

nestled as they were

beneath my breastbone

close to my heart.



Refusing to make an appearance --

in fear

of saying too much

of revealing the gaping wounds

as tangled up as they were

with a death.



With my father’s death.

A year ago.

A mere threehundredandsixtyfive days ago.



In a hospital bed.

With a breathing mask

to allow the chest to rise and fall

rise

and fall

throughout that night

…and into the morning.



We changed the clocks.

Spring ahead / Fall back.



I watched the big hand and little hand

circle ‘round the numbers

again and again

continuously

throughout that night

and into the morning.



5:55.

The last breath was taken.

It was gentle, it was peaceful.

It was over.



A life was over.



Death had begun.

Come Fly with Me

Okay, so by now you've all heard about the tighter control planned and already in the works for airport security. Thanks, Mr. Terrorist Wannabe, who screwed us all up by trying to blow up a plane en route from Amsterdam to Detroit. You threw a real wrench into the vacation plans of so many people over the holidays, and caused bedlam in airports around the world.

But maybe that's a good thing. We all learn from our mistakes, right? And according to international journalists, we can all learn from Israel's airport and national security measures, right?

So, people, are you prepared for those "pat-downs" (known in teen talk as "cop a feel"...or back when I was a teen that was the term) by an airport official? Are you ready for some official to see the "underworld beneath your clothing?

People are talking about the intrusion of privacy and the fine line between security and privacy. No, children will not be scanned...that could be deemed as perversion. But what about religious people who don't touch a member of the opposite sex and live within restrictions of modesty? What will they do -- they're damned either way! "Don't touch me!" might become a common refrain amidst your fellow travellers in a lineup.

And then there's talk again about what on-board luggage you can bring with you. What qualifies as too big a purse or a tote bag? People intentionally bring big carryalls aboard a plane -- these often house everything you ever wanted or needed, minus the kitchen sink, aboard a 2-hour flight or 20-hour flight.

That's just what's happening on the ground. What about the airborne restrictions  re. getting up and walking around, milling outside a bathroom, bathroom visits prior to landing, etc.? I took a long flight to Israel this summer; of course I couldn't sit still for all those hours in my seat. But then again, of course nobody can sit still on an El Al flight 'cause it's like one big block party among your fellow MOTs, several of whom you'll always know. I hung out in the galley and near the bathrooms, talking to people and just having a change of scenery.

And here's the real punch-in-the-gut fact, the tough pill to swallow in all this: no doubt, membership in the "mile-high club" will be down significantly!

It Comes Down To This...

...I believe Dr. Robin Altman is my only blog reader...and commenter.

After five years of my blogging, it's sadly come down to this: a child psychiatrist comments on my words.

What exactly does that say about me??

Picture This! -- Part 3

Back in March 2005 and April 2005, I wrote a couple blog posts about my neglect of putting family photos in albums since my oldest son was about 18 months old. His sister came along when Avi was two years, two months and two days. And his brother came along a few years later, in March 2000. Imagine all those baby pics, sitting in photo processing envelopes, in supermarket bags, strewn in drawers, in cupboards, in crawlspaces.

Back in 2005, my husband threatened to take all the pics and put them in albums himself -- my neglect has continually been a sore point with him -- but he would have done so haphazardly, without any sequence. I panicked and was supposed to take on the project  a few years ago.

I didn't.

I am pleased to say that I FINALLY took on this photo arranging project this past week.

As I told my husband, Ron, it's the ultimate punishment, the ultimate "I TOLD YOU SO." I've been going batty, trying to find the sequences of  each child. Yes, I had actually labeled and dated some of the photos  when I got them back from the developer. But those photos in their envelopes are not sitting in any orderly fashion, according to months and years. It's somewhat of a guessing game as I plow through these moments in time.

But I am slowly making headway, and was able to help my firstborn celebrate his second b'day in pictures, then finally bring my daughter into the world and watch her in her first few months.

I stopped putting the photos in albums for now and in the meantime have just been arranging the envelopes with dates and years so that they can be in the correct sequence for when I do place their pics in the albums.

What can I say? It's definitely labor...but a labor of love, as I review our life in photos -- with cherished family members and friends...some of whom have departed this world and whom we miss enormously.

Perhaps lucky for me, my pics mainly carry me up to about 5 years ago. After that? We went digital!

I guess I can sum up my long-overdue photo archiving experience in this way, with this wonderful quote by an unknown author:

She glances at the photo, and the pilot light of memory flickers in her eyes.

KING OF THE CORNER

I watched this movie tonight with my husband. Peter Riegert, Isabella Rossellini, Eli Wallach, Beverly D'Angelo, Rita Moreno, Eric Bogosian are just some of the stellar cast. It's a sweet, quirky film co-written and directed by Peter Riegert...the "pickle man" from CROSSING DELANCEY.


A man looking for a new purpose in his life finds one that last place he expected in this comedy. Leo Spivak (Peter Riegert) is a man slowly sinking into the quicksand of a midlife crisis. He's become increasingly unsatisfied with his career in product testing, especially now that his young assistant Ed (Jake Hoffman -- [Dustin's son]) has taken to stealing his ideas and passing them on to his boss as his own work. Leo's marriage to Rachel (Isabella Rossellini) is not what it once was, especially now that she's shifted into a constant state of near-hysteria over their daughter, Elena (Ashley Johnson), and her budding romance with an aspiring juvenile delinquent. And Leo is spending every other weekend with his aging father, Sol (Eli Wallach), who has lost his will to live but uncooperatively won't die. As Leo puzzles over his path in life, he finds some very unexpected answers when he makes the acquaintance of Evelyn Fink (Eric Bogosian), a "freelance Rabbi" with some unusual spiritual advice. King of the Corner was directed and co-written by leading man Riegert; the screenplay was adapted from stories in the collection Bad Jews by Gerald Shapiro. ~ Mark Deming, All Movie Guide

King of the Corner (2005)
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The Ramen Girl

I watched this movie on TV last night and although I turned it on about a half hour into the movie, it was WONDERFUL.

Please click on the title of this blog post and you will link to a trailer of the movie.

I'd only seen Brittany in fluffy kinds of movies before, but she was rather masterful in this one.

It was a sweet story, and although Brittany's character Abby is a stranger in a strange land, where things get lost in translation, she manages to overcome and prove her worth.

The characters in the film are well portrayed and I'm glad I sat up till 1:30 watching it.

I give it 4 ****.

The Year in Review: A Brief Summary

What can I say?

I lost my dear father this year in early March. That set the tone for the rest of 2009.

We celebrated -- in a toned down way -- our dear daughter Adina's bat mitzvah in August.

We traveled as a family to Israel in August.

My oldest child started high school in September.

His braces came off while his friends' braces went on!

Some of my poetry was published.

I marked 16 wonderful years of marriage to my beshert.

The good mixed in with the sad. Such is life...

As 2009 nears its end later this week, I will continue to remember this year's goings-on and will look forward to a brighter 2010.

I wish each and every one of you a bright, happy and healthy 2010. May your year be filled with celebrations of every kind and good times shared with family and friends.

A Blog Oops

You may notice that the front page of my blog looks slightly different. Unintentionally, I modified the page, but in doing so, my blogroll was erased. So some of you have disappeared.

I've been trying to recall the URLs of those blogs I read/have been reading over the past five years, and am slowly remembering and listing them.

Please, if you know that I read your blog, and you don't see your blog's name on the right-hand side of the page, do me a favor and contact me to tell me. A gentle reminder is all I need.

Thanking you in advance...

Grey Gardens

Last night I sat and watched this film, starring Jessica Lange and Drew Barrymore, and released this year. What a brilliant film, what brilliant acting.

Drew, who normally has quite a noticeable speech impediment, took vocal coaching to learn how to speak EXACTLY like Little Edie. Boy, did she do a super job. As did Jessica.

So super, that these women come across very spooky on the TV screen.

Apparently, much of the film was shot in Toronto -- news to me!

What was even spookier was right after the movie finished, another GREY GARDENS came on, but this time it was the actual documentary released in 1975 about Big Edie and Little Edie. I was very tired and could only stay up to watch a little of the movie, but the eeriness was in the fact that the dialogue, the scenery, the wardrobe were identical (as much as can be) to what I'd watched for two hours prior. Having seen the great similarities, I could then stress even more what fabulous acting Jessica and Drew did.

I do recommend both the documentary and the contemporary films. Perhaps rent them both and watch them in the other order than what I saw: watch the earlier movie first and see how well it was interpreted and reenacted by the 2009 crew.

Another "thinking man's film."

Condoms & Jewish History

I recently finished reading this book; perhaps it's not the type of book that I'd normally read, but I'm glad that it was recommended and sent to me by a book publicist.

Fromm's story is a fascinating one -- a blend of family, sexual mores, and business...combined with general and Jewish history -- and it left me quite sad and even angry. I might've heard stories in general about the Nazi regime and the power of the German government, but here is a story about a particular family who was robbed of so much of its personal identity.

Fromms Act was the first brand-name, top-quality condom in prewar Germany, and Julius Fromm was the man, the successful entrepreneur, who made the condom and the business behind it a business landmark in Germany.

This book tells about Julius's rise as an emigre from Russia, his work ethics and attempts in the business world, the conditions of Germany for the Jews and general public in the twenties and thirties, and his success. The conditions began to change when Nazi power came into effect, and Fromm's Act and Julius's financial state began to falter.

Julius and his family fled to London in 1939 after being forced to sell his model business for a fraction of its worth. We learn about his homes and personal effects -- and finances --being taken over by the Nazis. This man, who was proud to call himself a German Jew and had built himself up into a status entity, was cheated by the government. . . as were so many others.

The book provides an historical and social look at German Jewry between the wars, and the tragic outcome that befell the country with the onset of Hitler coming to power.

Translated by Shelley Frisch, the book was written by Gotz Aly and Michael Sontheimer, and features photos of the Fromm family and their businesses. It is put out by Other Press. www.otherpress.com .

For an insightful read about a Jewish family within an historical and business perspective, I suggest you find yourself a copy of Fromm's: How Julius Fromm's Condom Empire Fell to the Nazis.

Let's Talk Turkey

"Gobble, Gobble, Gobble."

Translation: I hope my American friends, family and readers have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

Now count your many blessings and say "Amen."

My Fourth Child

People tend to recall what made them fall in love with someone ... or something.

This is what made me fall in love with Max...enough to adopt him nearly four years ago.

He continues to be a well-loved member of the Saban household!

Fitting Words

I am very slow to post pics when necessary -- it doesn't help that I don't know how to download pics from a digital camera and have to wait for my husband to do so.

For that reason, I can't yet post pics of my father's tombstone and its wording, but I can share this pasuk from Tehillim, Chapter 15, Verse 2, that I found and suggested to my brother. It received a thumb's up and appeared on the stone...very appropriate for my father because of what it says and also because he read from Tehillim daily.

הוֹלֵךְ תָּמִים, וּפֹעֵל צֶדֶק; וְדֹבֵר אֱמֶת, בִּלְבָבוֹ

He that walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness, and speaketh truth in his heart

No Purse Snatchers Here!

I go to synagogue on a regular basis. It is an Orthodox congregation, Modern Orthodox, with some less observant people thrown in for good measure. I've gotten used to that and am pleased that some people at least make an effort to come to shul, even if they are not Shomrei Shabbos.

Among the women, there are some who come infrequently, toting shoulder bags...reasonably small purses that they string on their shoulders.

Our shul is small, held in the chapel of a Jewish day school. There have been no reports of thefts or purse snatchings in the area. That being the case, please tell me why these purse-toting women cannot put their purses under their seats, or beside them on the bench. When the time comes to stand and pray, they secure their purse straps on their shoulders!

I thought it's sort of a bubby thing to do, something I'd seen in the past...when older women attend bar and bat mitzvahs or weddings and even then often sit with their purses on their laps. Okay, so maybe they think the waitstaff might snatch the purse or its contents while it's resting on the table and they're up on the dance floor doing a Hora or the foxtrot. So that's a bit more understandable.

But it truly is ridiculous for these women in shul -- and there's a 50 year old amidst the noted few -- to sling their purses on their shoulders and join the congregation in praying, especially when they have to bend forward for certain prayers. No doubt those straps slip off the shoulder.

It's not as if all their worldly goods are inside that little pouch; perhaps a house key, (or a car key for some), a breath mint, or a tissue lay in wait. Please, ladies, if you are to bring a purse to an Orthodox shul, don't display it proudly on your shoulder as you daven. You look ridiculous and fearful..

If someone is out to get you, it won't be in shul, it'll be during the kiddush following services!

Ponderings

I was in the middle of a dream this a.m., just before I woke up. In the dream, I was at the Beth Jacob section of Lambton Cemetery. (where my father is buried) My mother said she didn't want to linger there, even though I wanted to "explore" the area -- I could see stone quarries way up in the distance too -- and read the headstones, and she started to lead the way out, followed by my brothers. I looked behind me and my father ( a much younger, virile version) was with us, trailing me... Then I woke up.

That dream made me sad and pensive at the same time.

We were all together -- younger versions of us -- for a brief time, and it is as if, although my father was "watching my back", he was left behind ... 'cause that's when I woke up.

Yes, he has been left behind in that cemetery in real life, just as in that dream. But contrary to the dream and the feelings it left me with, yesterday, with the unveiling, with the speeches given, with the multiple stones and blades of grass left on the headstone, with the beautiful and perfect wording on the front and rear of the headstone, and with the vast and varied crowd of people who came to honor us and honor our father's memory, I left the cemetery thinking "It's okay now. His place his marked. His murdered-by-the-Nazis family has a final resting place with him. He can now rest in true peace. Everything is truly okay."

***********************************

Some other thoughts that had crossed my mind about the unveiling:

--We changed the clocks yesterday an hour back; my father died on March 8, the day we'd put our clocks ahead. I sat at my father's bedside in hospital with my brothers all through the Saturday night, watching the clock on the wall and checking my watch with its second hand, wondering that at whatever point in time my dad passes away (we knew it was a death watch), will it be deemed via "old time" or "new time."

--We randomly chose November 1 for the unveiling; November 2 was the secular date that my father's mother and sister were massacred in his hometown.

-- Last year, a week from yesterday, we held the unveiling for my mother-in-law.

I think November will forever be a memorable month for us all.

Life Cycles

In a week's time, G-d willing, Sunday, November 1st, 1:00 p.m., we will be having the unveiling for my father, Jacob Adler, z"l.

He passed away on Sunday, March 8th, 12th of Adar, and was buried a few hours later.

We began to pick up the pieces and try to carry on with our lives as best as we could. Needless to say, it's been the most difficult on my mother, who was physically and emotionally the closest to my father. He was her focal point for over 52 years, but especially for the past several years while his health deteriorated, and her days and nights revolved around him and his well-being.

With that focal point gone, the Adler home has been lonely, the routines have been dispersed.

We began to gently prod my mother in the summer to think about the unveiling and try to decide when to do it: in the summer, before the High Holidays, before the winter...? My mother kept putting off the conversation, as she was not ready to have it. A stone would make it final...too final for her, and she wasn't yet prepared.

But as the months passed by, and the seasons began to change, the topic was open to discussion once more, and we began to take the first steps: discussing when we might have the ceremony, discussing what to put on the headstone, discussing from where to order the headstone and what type of stone and design we should have.

Time. It all took time. Time to talk, time to plan, time to seek out guidance from others who might know better than us all the ins and outs of this task, time to find the right words, the right "pesukim" from holy writings that would encapsulate who my father was--as a person, as a Jew and as a family man.

We are now ready. (Is anyone ever ready, really?) An aunt will be traveling from the U.S. to be with us; a cousin from the U.S. and several of his children will be traveling to be with us. My brother and his wife will be traveling from the U.S. to be with us.

With us. With our family. With our friends. With those who are able to join us in honoring my father's memory and pure goodness.

After the unveiling, I will share with you the inscription on his headstone.

MOTHERS & DAUGHTERS aka Three Generations

Thought for the Day

To smile with one’s eyes is a gift.

To smile with one’s heart is a blessing.

My father smiled with his eyes and his heart.

And we were gifted and blessed.

Stripes, Prints or Solids?

Walk to your linen closet, or to the cabinets under the sink in the bathroom. Open the door. Pull out a handful of bath towels. Look them over very carefully.

What do you see?

Are your bath towels solids? Are they prints? Or are they striped?

I was looking over at the towel rack in my ensuite and it hit me: so many of our towels have stripes. Depending on how the towel is hung, they can be either vertical or horizontal stripes.

Whereas vertical stripes have a thinning effect, horizontal stripes offer the opposite. So why the heck were beach and bath towels designed to be wrapped around one's body in such a way that the stripes are horizontal?!

Women wrap themselves in their horizontal striped towel, then drop the towel to get on the scale and check their weight. "Yay, I dropped those horizontal stripes and three pounds just fell away with them!"

Did the inventor of terry-cloth or plush velour or basic cotton towels decide that white towels were bland and boring, that color needed to be added, that stripes needed to be added to help enhance one's look, that the pruning of one's skin following a lengthy shower or bath just didn't cut it.

Do take a survey and let me know: are the majority of your bath towels striped?

A Sweetie by Any Other Name

Taffy. Honey. Candy. Sherry.

Food and drink. Mmmm. Yummy. Sweet. Tasty.

Female names. Ewwww. Overkill.

'Nuff said.