Mom-isms and Pearls of Wisdom…

Mom has been gone for 16 1/2 years but her words still live on with The Sister, The Hubby and yours truly.

The very first one I clearly remember was said with much love as she tucked me into bed and continued with the arrival of The Sister, “Nightie Night. Sleep Tight. Pleasant Dreams. Remember I love you very, very much.” To this day, I still recite these words to The Sister and The Hubby!

Pimpsqueak! What, you may ask, is this? She actually meant Pipsqueak when referring to a child but, instead, sounded as though she was pointing out a kid who was hiring out prostitutes!

Go eff a wall! Ouch! This was yelled at the individual who was annoying her at that moment.

Move it, Bluebeard! Uttered to drivers on the road who were puttering down the thoroughfare rather than going the speed she was comfortable with!

S/he’s 10 sheets to the wind! The actual saying is 3 sheets to the wind! We never figured out where she came up with this number!

A watched pot never boils. An age-old adage always said to me while I was impatiently waiting at the window for someone special to arrive who, notoriously, was always late.

You and your sister are my sheynes kinder. Her beautiful/beloved children.

Promise me you will always love and protect your sister. Don’t worry, Mom! We’re not ourselves if we don’t have each other!

Today is my birthday. I have entered a new decade. I wanted to share my Mother with whoever reads this. It is her Birth Day as well! She may have been born in May but she performed a difficult but loving job to bring me into this world many moons ago. I love you, Mom!

Beautiful Mother-to-Be!

March 7th…

Today is not one of my favorite days. My Grandfather passed away 39 years ago today. He was the town physician, family counselor, resident King Solomon, and our Patriarch. It was a gloomy, rainy Monday when I received the call at school that he had passed away in his driveway after returning home from rounds at the hospital. I don’t remember much other than screaming and crying. I ran out of the house. I don’t even remember if I put on a raincoat but I do recall I was looking for someone. Who was it? I have no idea. I was in total shock. When I returned to my room, I don’t know where the rain ended and my ceaseless tears began. How could someone truly hold so much water within their body? I lived in a sorority. One of my sisters was so incredibly kind to cover the mirrors in my room and stow away my Grandfather’s pictures. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I wasn’t terribly observant, at that time in my life, but maybe she knew my Grandfather was brought up Orthodox. To this day I hold nothing but love and gratitude in my heart for this woman who is an absolute Mensch! My Grandfather was my world…my universe… He was my Sister’s Knight in Shining Armor…Without him there was NOTHING! This was the same for my immediate family, my Grandmother, our extended family, friends and his patients! To all who knew him, he was a deity whom we placed on a pedestal and worshipped at his feet! With the gift of hindsight, I can honestly say he didn’t want this mantle. He was a gifted physician, this is absolutely true! He was a master diagnostician in every sense of the word. He knew how to listen, was able to hear concerns among his family, friends and patients thus enabling him to offer pearls of advice and recommendations. Unfortunately, he placed everyone’s well-being ahead of his own. He was mortal. He never lavished “Me Time” upon himself as he always made his down time readily available for those he loved. We, his world, whittled away at his energy, which ultimately took a toll on his heart. He left this life the way he wanted…going from rounds to office hours…but we were left wanting and floundering. I like to think he is up above, tending to angel wings, strolling among the clouds with my grandmother and reprimanding my Mother for leaving this planet far too soon. I hope he knows, wherever he is, just how much he is loved and missed.

Sunday Brunch…

To most people, Sunday brunch is a meet-up with family or friends at a local favorite cafe or restaurant. A mimosa or Bloody Mary is de rigueur as are the latest iterations of Eggs Benedict. Growing up, Sunday brunch was a stroll down the street every weekend to our Grandparents’ house. Every Sunday morning, our Grandfather would drive to our local Kosher deli and pick up fresh lox, whitefish salad, tuna salad, egg salad, various cheeses, bagels and bialys. Our Grandmother would set up the dining room table with all the goodies plus butter and jelly. The sideboard held various Cott sodas, orange and apple juices and a HUGE coffee urn. Once the setup was complete, she threw the front door open and in flowed the extended family and friends. Our Great-Uncle would arrive with one or two of his children and some grandchildren and he would always bring chocolate lollipops for my sister and me. The members of our Grandmother’s Monday night Mah-Jongg club, our “Aunts” by friendship would toddle in trailed by our “Uncles.” Our Grandmother’s best friend, our favorite “Aunt” would breeze through the door with our “Uncle” and “Cousin” in tow. Hugs and kisses ensued all while making a leisurely path into the dining room. My sister, cousin and I would initially camp out under the dining room table while our Grandfather held court, exchanging anecdotes with family and friends. While doing so, he would casually remove a bagel from the platter, peel the hard, outer skin from this carbohydrate and pass the fluffy, soft interior to the three of us hiding in plain sight. Eventually, those adults who were smokers, would join our Grandmother in her “Throne Room” aka the kitchen, close the doors leading to the heart of the house but crank open the windows for ventilation. There they would smoke like chimneys, guzzle coffee and kibitz to their heart’s content. Our Grandfather and the rest would progress to the living room to gossip, eat dessert and occasionally play the piano and sing. The Sister, Cousin and yours truly would meander to the enclosed porch to eat chocolate lollipops and play or wander into the den to watch Abbott and Costello movies. As time passed, people started to trickle out the front door with exclamations of “We must do this again soon!” And it was… the following week!

November 25th…

Dear Reader, you most probably are wondering what is the significance of today’s date. Well, first of all, the Hubby’s cousin, a really cool, sweet and funny guy, was born on this day. He shares his birthday with John F. Kennedy Jr. who, unfortunately, shared his third birthday with the world for his father’s funeral. Thinking about this date reminded me of two separate but weirdly similar incidents that happened to my Mother and I thirty years apart. In 1960, Senator John F. Kennedy had thrown his hat into the ring for President of the United States of America. During his campaign, he made a stop in New York City where he mingled among the crowds, greeting people and shaking hands. One of these individuals was a young woman who worked for General Motors, my Mother! Thirty years later I was working in New York City. I was meeting a friend after work and was dashing uptown when I heard someone call out my name. I spun around…right into a man’s stomach! Two hands reached out to my shoulders to steady me. I kept looking up, right into the smiling face of John F. Kennedy Jr.! At home, I relayed the run-in to my Mother. Words such as Adonis, People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive, drop dead GORGEOUS poured from my lips! My Mother waved her hand in front of my face and said the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree; HOWEVER his father was the most handsome man she had ever laid her eyes on! He was trim, his hair was thick and wavy plus he had a wicked twinkle in his eye! She said he greeted each and every woman as though the were the only female in the vicinity! She said the son couldn’t hold a candle to the father! Thinking back, it was an absolute generational opinion! No one would make either one of us budge…well, that’s not QUITE true! My Mother was head over heels in love with Paul Newman and his baby blue eyes!

The In-Between…

Coins in the cushions? No. The sound after inhalation but before exhalation? No. Buttercream in the cake? Hopefully there’s a lot but that’s still not it! What, exactly, is the in-between? Our lives are made up of experiences and memories, both good and bad. Births, marriages, vacations… End of friendships, dissolution of marriages, deaths of loved ones… The in-betweens are the moments we tuck away but, unfortunately, do not give as much credence to as the major milestones. The toddler ignoring the parent’s warning about NOT jumping on the sofa. A slip and fall and five stitches later, home asleep in bed. The younger sibling, who shared the bedroom, chattering the night away! The Mother preparing the meal for a family holiday that ended too quickly. The yeasty smell of the house when the Father baked bread. The teenager in charge of cooking family dinner for the first time but totally destroys the meal! The first kiss marred by the younger sibling singing, “Dick and Jane, sitting in the tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…” The puppy’s choice of his/her human and always sitting in this individual’s lap! The sight of the rainbow spanning the river. A bitterly cold winter when ice formed and cracked on the same river. The cracking sounded like a gunshot! The wedding announcement in the local paper for the former best friend. The first night the fiancé slept over only to cuddle. The night before the wedding, sitting on the floor of the pantry closet, talking to the Mother who related her jitters before her wedding. Several years later holding the Mother’s hand twenty-four hours before she passed away in the hospital she was born at. These are all in-between moments that comprise our lives and form our personalities. Life isn’t simply a series of peaks and lows; subtler periods burnish our personae. All together these instances create US!

BFF…

I work part-time in a small store at one of the local malls. Tonight I watched four tweens interact as they perused the items on the shelves and tables. Two of the girls stood out. Anyone could tell they were Best Friends! They reached for the same items at the same time… they liked the same products in the store…they paid for each other…they finished each other’s sentences! Pensive I am and wistful I became. I spent the Summer between elementary school and junior high at sleep-away camp. When I returned, both my Mother and Grandfather stated I would be starting at a new school in a few weeks and making an entirely new set of friends. They did mention one girl in particular as her Mother had worked for my Grandfather as his nurse until she made her debut on this planet. Lo and behold, the first day of school and this girl and I have every class together! I remember one of her first questions she asked me. She knew I was Jewish but she wanted to know if I left the lights on on Friday nights and if I pre-ripped my toilet paper before sunset on Fridays. I must have looked so lost that she stated, “I know you went to a Jewish camp so I thought you did this every week!” Such a disarming statement: I adored her immediately! I smiled and let her know those who practice Orthodoxy do this; I am Reformed. From then on we were inseparable! Wherever she went, I wasn’t far behind. If I was in the local ice cream parlor, she would arrive soon after. At lunch we always shared an order of French fries…even in eighth grade when both of us were feeling under the weather. I came down with Scarlet Fever; she was home sick as well but luckily not the same illness. She was more of an extrovert to my introvert. She was tall, blonde and stunning! Her Grandfather christened us “Double Trouble.” My Grandfather called us “Mutt and Jeff!” We would bike to the local mall (the same one I work at) for pizza and the candy store! Swedish Fish! No trip was complete without Swedish Fish! When we learned to drive, we would venture further from home base but the children in us never left! We always found a way to a candy store! In high school we would spend time at her family’s house down the shore! I don’t remember eating but I do recollect the joy of our camaraderie. When we entered college our relationship remained strong but it was sorely tested when I lost my Grandfather. I had never experienced such loss and a devastation to my soul. I had been diagnosed with “growing pains” as a teenager. With my Grandfather’s passing, the diagnosis was given a more accurate title – depression. I wanted to take a leave of absence from school and clear my head. Certain family members and my BFF told me to stick it out. During this span , silence grew between us. We went for extended periods of time without talking or writing. When I last saw her, she said she couldn’t handle a friendship with me because I was too depressing. I watched her walk away, out of my life. Dear Lord! I have missed this person for many, many moons! About a year ago, I found her on social media. I reached out and she positively responded but I think I messed up a potentially budding friendship. She was never overly loquacious but her messages were brief and very much to the point. I asked her if I made her nervous. She intimated yes but she also said she took complete responsibility for the end of our friendship. I have been trying to find out why but I think I might have driven her away. I hope she reads this! We may not be Best Friends but there is no reason to not be amigas! Swedish Fish may be off the menu but hopefully chocolate mousse could be an olive branch?!?

July 4th…

If you were to ask most children what their favorite holiday is, I do believe the response would be fairly universal – Christmas or Hanukkah! Who can resist a present?!? The Sister and I, being the odd ducks that we were, eagerly looked forward to the Fourth of July. Why, you may ask? Because every year pre-school/elementary school friends of ours, siblings who had moved out of the area, would return for part of the Summer to visit their grandmother! Our Summer vacation truly started when they arrived and it usually coincided with their reappearance at the Fourth of July parade! We were glued to each other that day…starting with the parade, to the fairgrounds and, if we were lucky that year, the fireworks display! With the music from the calliope fading in our ears, we would race to the park for hamburgers and hotdogs, popcorn and cotton candy. We pocketed enough coins for the rides or games of chance. If it was sweltering, we would stop in the VFW where their Mom would treat us to an ice cold soda. Once we cooled down, we would head back out into the heat! We had a grand time enjoying each other’s company. The fun times, unfortunately, did not last. A year came along where the Sister and I waited on the corner for them in vain. We were growing up and never shared another holiday together. The parade has dulled, the VFW has closed and the fair is a mere spark of what it once was. Fireworks are OTB – they frighten our dogs! We are left with good memories…the nostalgia of a simple time…and a wistfulness to turn back the clock albeit briefly…

Thirty-Five Years…

Thirty-five years ago today the weather was miserable. It wasn’t a named winter storm but it was POURING! I believe G-d sent the rain that day to mix with our tears. Our rock…our knight in shining armor…our Grandfather passed away just after morning rounds at the hospital. These years have flown by but they have also crawled at a snails pace. I can’t seem to remember the timber of his voice but I do recall his scent – a mixture of A.H. Riise Bay Rum and sterilizing solutions in a medical office. It may sound unappealing but, to me, it is heaven on earth. I wish I could bottle it and uncork the stopper when I need a pick-me-up. I remember the warmth of his blue eyes. They would sparkle when our Mother or the Sister or yours truly entered the room but they would positively glow when our Grandmother was in the vicinity. Sometimes I feel he never really passed but slipped into the next room. I have his hands. They are tiny and slightly pudgy but he passed them down to our Mother and to me! The Sister has his aptitude for math! Unlike me, she NEVER requires a calculator! He taught her shortcuts that I couldn’t grasp and she utilizes them to this day! Our Grandfather was also an animal magnet! No, not a ladies man…he was true-blue and devoted to our Grandmother. Four-legged, furry animals, especially dogs, were drawn to him! Dogs would wiggle, dance and run just to get his attention! This trait he handed down to our Mother and the Sister! The Hubby entered my life eleven years after our Grandfather took his bow but, somehow, he touched him as well! They read the same! Both men remove their glasses and nibble on the tip of the temple piece while licking their index fingers to flip the pages. The first time we went to Shul together, the Hubby wrapped his Tallis around my shoulders, pulled me into his side and continued to point in the prayer book where we were in the Service. I was taken aback! Our Grandfather had done this for both the Sister and me whenever we attended Synagogue with him! He left his calling card at the door and all who come into contact with it are immensely wealthier!

Compass…

Why is it that some people are born with a sense of direction and others will always require a GPS in order to navigate their own home town let alone the neighboring communities?!? Our Mom NEVER lost her way when walking or driving! She rarely remembered street names but her internal compass was SPOT ON and she was able to draw maps that were so accurate she would have given Rand-McNally a run for the money if she managed to include street names and not just landmarks! Our Dad, on the other hand, ALWAYS relied upon a street map! When gas stations used to supply those awkwardly folded “picture books” he collected them as though they were going out of style! He would sit in the car with a small flashlight and determine where he was even though the Queen of the Internal Compass was sitting to his right with a smile as enigmatic as the Mona Lisa’s on her face. When he finally decided to simply drive without truly knowing the direction, Mom would chime in and start directing. Together, they rarely lost their way! The Sister is an interesting combination of the two. She requires a drive to her destination beforehand and, even though she doesn’t know street names and has a split-second memory, she will never forget the route! Me? I was born with Mom’s sense of direction! It failed me once on an ocean liner that was over 1000 feet long! I didn’t realize the carpeting changed colors between the bow and the stern! What about the Hubby? Total lost cause! He knows his way to the local airports and, as strange as this sounds, cemeteries but he manages to get lost pulling out of the driveway! His GPS is his BFF when driving as he does not know how to read a map! Last week, he decided to meander around one of the local malls on his day off. He managed to lose his way WITHIN the mall! My phone rang and there he was, describing his dilemma! I asked him where he parked and what store he was near in the mall. I was verbally able to direct him to the proper exit in order to find his car. What about you, dear readers? How is your sense of direction? Does a loved one need to gift you with your very own compass? Is this trait endearing or frustrating?

2017…

I am not sorry to see this year assigned to the history books. There were a few good moments but I am eager to welcome 2018. A group of women accepted me into their fold and I went to work for them, seasonally, in a Ladies store. It was a true learning experience filled with a lot of laughter and hectic times. I am pleased to say they have asked me to remain with them in a part-time capacity! This blog is another highlight. I have received many compliments over the year including several suggestions to monetize my site! If anyone knows how to do so, please let me know! I have researched this idea but have not discovered anything substantial in order to move ahead with this plan. I thank the Sister’s BFF for providing a fresh perspective on life and the displaced Alabamian for her willing ear and much needed advice! To the Uncle I so appreciate the logic, pearls of wisdom via old shaving company advertisements and his love! Much love and appreciation to my oldest friend for our late night/early morning phone calls that calmed me down and helped me to eventually fall asleep! Friends have come and friends have gone this year. To those who have gone by the wayside, I wish you and your families nothing but health and happiness for the future. Please know I am here if you ever wish to reconnect. We can hopefully start fresh. Friendships have, I pray, been rekindled! To the former Jersey Girl now New England resident, let’s keep the channels of communication open! Most of all, my heart to the Sister and the Hubby for their continued love and support! I wouldn’t have made it through the year without the two of you! To everyone else, I wish you a very happy and healthy 2018! May all your dreams and wishes come true!