Shemira

Similar to the Irish tradition of remaining with the body of a loved one until burial, Shemira is the Jewish ritual of attending or guarding the body. The difference is that the Shomer or Shomeret usually sits and prays alone and may never have known the deceased in life. The Irish tradition is one of family and friends being with the recently departed. Although when Tanta died Chuck and I did go to the funeral home and spent a few moments with her and with the Shomer who was attending her at that time.

It was a comfort to us to know that from the moment we escorted Tanta’s body to the funeral van, throughout the process of taharah and until we helped bury her body next to her parents and her brother, that she would always be accompanied. It was especially comforting to the caregivers who had been with Tanta around the clock in her final months to know that she would never be alone. For them it meant that their work would be carried on.

Growing up, my Dad would often tell us that when his time came he wanted to be laid out in the living room. He thought the sofa where he would stretch out to watch the eleven o’clock news followed by “The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson” would be just the right spot. Dad was of Irish and Scottish descent but even his Scottish side had come from Ireland originally, so the roots ran deep. I wish we could have honored his wish. But by the time his parents passed away decades before him we were already bringing our dearly departed to funeral homes or funeral parlors - named with a nod to the time when families were at the heart of the process - and that’s where they “went out of”.

The first funeral I remember was of my Dad’s mother. I was just eight. There was some discussion in the extended family that I was too young to attend the open casketed wake. My parents disagreed and I attended. I’m so glad I did. I could see Grandma, kneel down and say a little prayer and begin to understand the rituals of death and burial.

Today is my Dad’s yahrzeit. As I write this, his memorial candle burns brightly. Twenty-four years ago today Dad died. He had been surrounded by his wife and three daughters all day. Late in the evening my mother sent us home from the hospital. While I was driving home in the cold and dark from Massachusetts to Connecticut, Dad breathed his last; his wife of nearly forty-two years by his side. I wondered about so many things that night. What I never questioned was that Dad’s death was a release and a relief for him. He had been so very ill for so very long. The Alzheimer’s Disease had cruelly robbed him and all of us of the warm, intelligent, funny man who worked hard, sang beautifully, told a great story, and loved his family above all else. At times in his life Dad struggled - as do we all - but his love for all of us never wavered.

Dad wasn’t laid out in our living room. He and Mom had sold that big old house a few years before and Mom was living alone in a condominium. Dad went out of the funeral home his father-in-law had gone out of. There was no Shomer in that tradition, but we did have an open casketed wake in the front parlor of the funeral home and his children and grandchildren were there to visit and attend. We said our goodbyes, had a proper funeral mass in the church Dad helped bring to fruition and buried him next to his parents and brothers.

Zichrono liveracha ~ His memory is a blessing.
And it always shall be...


You can read the story behind how a Catholic daughter came to light a Jewish yahrzeit candle for her father by clicking here. My poem, “Your Yahrzeit” can also be found there.

Joy and Sorrow

Thursday, February 9, 2012, we spent the afternoon with Chuck’s Tanta. Age 89 and in hospice care with liver cancer, she was clearly in her final days. I sat by her bedside and talked to her. I named every family member that had been in touch with us and passed their love onto her. Then I began reviewing the bidding. I recounted all the ways she had been a good woman: a daughter, a sister, a sister-in-law, a friend, an aunt, a great aunt, a member of her community. I let a cascade of names and good memories wash over her. In the living room, one of Tanta’s caregivers, “A” could hear me over the baby monitor we had set up. She asked Chuck if Tanta was talking to me. He said no, but that we believed she could hear or, at the very least, sense, what was being said to her. “A” nodded quietly in agreement.

The next morning, just after 6:00 a.m., the phone rang. Our niece Carrie was calling with the news that her sister Kate's water had broken. With that call we were off on the Kate, Phil and Baby Finn adventure! We arrived at Beth Israel Deaconess at Noon. We have been to Beth Israel with Tanta more times than we can count. This was the first time we had ever been to Beth Israel for a joyous occasion and we have to say we thoroughly enjoyed it!

When the news of Kate's impending C-section came to "Team Finn" sometime after midnight, we all had to make decisions. The predicted snowstorm and distance between hospital and homes were factors. While the rest of the family needed to leave, we stayed. We felt that we had all planted the Baby Finn Family Flag in the lobby and that our circumstances allowed us to remain and hold down the fort.

We rearranged our camp in the lobby and dozed on and off until Phil brought us the very good news of Finn's arrival: 9 pounds, 5 ounces (4.22 kilograms), 21 inches long! He also told us the equally good news that Kate was well! After that, Chuck took to the floor and got about two hours of sleep. I followed suit across two chairs. Soon Phil came and escorted us upstairs. After the delight of being able to see Kate, to know she really was well, to meet the fabulous Finn and to see the newly expanded family settled in their room, we took our leave.

As we headed home out of Boston we thought about stopping in Brookline to visit Tanta, but because it was so early and we needed to get some solid sleep in our own bed we decided to head home. Driving along the Mass Pike and then Route 9 we felt lucky that the predicted snow was just a dusting and that the roads weren't bad at all. Just before the Shrewsbury-Worcester line the cell phone rang. It was one of Chuck’s Tanta's caregivers calling to tell us she had died peacefully in her sleep.

We found ourselves at another decision point. Home would have to wait. We began making phone calls, grabbed a quick breakfast at Blanchard’s 101 Diner in Worcester and headed back from Worcester for Brookline. We were able to be with Tanta for a bit and said our final good byes by singing the Bedtime Shema. We also witnessed a very dignified transition performed by two gracious young women from the funeral home. Then we escorted her body downstairs to the vehicle.

The rest of the day was spent making phone calls, working out details with the funeral home about Tuesday's service and tending to things at her condo. We finally arrived home about 9:30 p.m. Saturday night, fed three justifiably disgruntled cats and at long last headed for bed.

We were in touch with everyone on Chuck's side of the family on Saturday, but we chose not to share the news with anyone on little Finn’s side until the next day. While none of them were close to Tanta, we did not want any mention of death to be part of such a joyful day.

We are saddened by Tanta’s passing. Yet we know we did everything to fulfill her wishes including her deep desire to die at home in her own bed, just as her own mother had in 1989, with her youngest daughter, our Tanta, by her side.

For Tanta:
Zichrona liveracha ~ Her memory is a blessing.

For Finn and for all of us:
L’chaim! ~ To life!

Moyers On Alinsky & Gingrich

Bill Moyers has a fierce intellect coupled with a calm and dignified manner. Bill Moyers also has a way with words: "the malignant narcissism of duplicitous politicians". Oh how I wish I had written that!

In this brief video Moyers provides a biography of patriot Saul Alinsky, and why Newt Gingrich has chosen to demonize him.

Bill Moyers Essay: Newt's Obesession with Saul Alinsky from BillMoyers.com on Vimeo.

Romney’s Reasoning

Willard Mitt Romney, one of the Republican presidential candidates, may have been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but he regularly swaps it out for a platinum foot.

Read the New York Times collection by Ashley Parker of some of Mitt’s best, oddest, most out of touch statements.

And rest assured there will be endless sequels.

SoundHound

SoundHound works. It kicks Shazam to the corner and back. Not only does it identify the music quickly and accurately, it is content rich - including lyrics. And it’s free!

I Still Wish...

I first wrote and posted this piece in 2007. My feelings have not changed. I believe it bears repeating and more so this year after extensive political wrangling to get not just abortion, but most forms of contraception outlawed in this country. Of course the balance on the Supreme Court remains key to this issue. Which means the upcoming presidential election is vital as well.

Today is the 39th anniversary of the United States Supreme Court Decision known as Roe v. Wade.

In light of this anniversary I have a few wishes to state:

- I wish, that from this moment on, no woman would ever have to make the decision to have an abortion.
- I wish contraceptives, including the morning after pill, would always be readily available to all women.
- I wish that all young people would be taught age appropriate sex and health education.
- I wish that all young people would be taught that abstinence is a legitimate choice, at the same time they get clear information about all forms of contraception.
- And I wish that abortion would always be safe and legal and available to all women.

STOP SOPA!

STOP CENSORSHIP!
VOTE NO ON SOPA!

SOPA - the Stop Online Piracy Act - is a mess.
The US House of Representatives bill has a catchy title. Who isn’t against online piracy - other than, well, pirates, right? The problem is it is a hodgepodge; a catchall written by power brokers and it is far too wide reaching. It is a huge blanket of censorship being thrown over the entire internet, with the potential to smother all the individual voices.

If SOPA passes, we will lose the individual and collective power of the independent voices of the internet.
If SOPA passes, we’re screwed.

Learn more - - - while you still can!

“Stop Sopa or the web really will go dark” by Dan Gillmor

Why is Wikipedia going dark on January 18, 2012?
(Go ahead and try to visit Wikipedia on January 18th and see what that feels like.)

Understanding SOPA

The Stop SOPA on-line petition and action page

psssst... Do Something!

A Moment

Yesterday we drove down to Rhode Island for the first time since Christmas. We visited with my Mom as well as Al, Carrie and Isabella Rose. Izzy is in constant motion now. She has graduated from walking while holding on to two hands, to holding on to only one hand! (Racing down the hallway with her, while bent over holding her little hand, is a chiropractor’s dream scenario!) She is also saying “Hi!” for both hello and goodbye - rather like one uses Aloha or Shalom!

Because of her bottomless energy, most of my photographs of Bella are now quite blurry. This quiet moment on Uncle Chuck, examining his Lapis Lazuli beads, was a beautiful exception.

In other family baby news, our niece Kate’s pregnancy is progressing smoothly (Yes, I am knocking on wood!). And she is the only pregnant woman I have ever known who grows lovelier by the month. Kate, her husband Phil and the entire extended family are excitedly awaiting the arrival of Isabella’s cousin Finn, sometime in February!

Smoky Goodness

Chuck and I first tasted a Chipotle based salsa at a Mexican restaurant in Redmond, Washington many years ago. We were so taken with it, we asked the staff about it. Then we went off in search of some wonderfully smoky Chipotle sauce. We tried several, but eventually settled on Tabasco Chipotle. We love it so much we travel with it! We also use McCormick dried Chipotle. I use the Tabasco and the McCormick in all sorts of dishes, not just Mexican inspired ones.

On the other hand, I’ve always been unimpressed by paprika. I am especially opposed to the “decorative” use of paprika - sprinkled over deviled eggs for example. Sorry, but it always reminds me of red chalk dust. Recently I began to read about smoked paprika. Now that sounded intriguing. I decided to give it a whirl. I found a tin at Whole Foods. It was pure chance that I chose the exquisite La Vera Sweet Smoked Spanish Paprika from Safinter. It was a revelation! It imparts a fabulous smoky depth comparable to Chipotle but with more distinct red pepper flavor - plus it’s more versatile than Chipotle. I love it! I may even consider dusting it over a deviled egg...

Thank You TJ’s

For several weeks we have been devoting a great deal of time and energy to helping Chuck’s elderly aunt. Working with hospice has been of clear benefit to Tanta and a blessing to us. Every life is complex and complicated; Tanta’s no less than anyone else’s. We are wending our way through a life’s maze built on privacy and filled with explicit and sometimes contradictory requests and desires. We are learning a great deal. We are sad. And we are weary.

Ever since Trader Joe’s has been doing their “bring your own bag, fill out a ticket” raffle we have been faithfully filling out tickets. This has been going on for years. We have written our name and phone number on tickets and slips all over Massachusetts, in Rhode Island and out in Washington state. Week after week some other lucky TJ’s customer has won. That’s why we were so delighted to receive a phone call telling us that we had won the bring your own bag raffle! Several days ago we came home after a very long day on the road and being with Tanta, to see the red light on our answering machine flashing and four messages waiting for us. Three were about Chuck’s aunt. The last was a cheery message from a gal named Leslie in Shrewsbury saying we had won a $25.00 Trader Joe’s gift certificate! We listened to it twice and high-fived each other to boot!

Tonight, on our way home from Tanta’s, we stopped at the Trader Joe’s on Route 9 in Shrewsbury and picked up our gift certificate. Chuck couldn’t resist snapping this photograph. The gift certificate was a welcome treat; our names on the sign such good fun. And exactly what we needed right now.

We’re Zipping Down The Rabbit Hole Again Folks

Living this close to the state of New Hampshire, just before the presidential primaries, means we are inundated with political ads. This is not my favorite season. I keep my finger on the mute button and much of the time manage to simply tune out the unrelenting blathering buzz. But recently Massachusetts’ former governor Willard Mitt Romney began running an ad which penetrated - gall can do that you know. In the television ad Republican Romney calls President Obama “pessimistic”. Pessimistic? Really? REALLY? “Yes We Can” and “Hope” are now classified as pessimistic?

These people really will say anything to get elected.
And we still have to slog through eleven more months of this.

You can click the link to see the Romney ad ironically/oddly/head-shakingly titled American Optimism. Brace yourself and do watch out for the funhouse mirrors.

The Ninth Night

We went to Christmas Revels at Harvard on Wednesday.
If there was such a thing as the “ninth night” of Chanukah, that would have been the night.
But there is no ninth night.

Revels this year had a skeleton figure which moved silently and somberly throughout the show - even dancing in the lobby of Memorial Hall during” Lord Of The Dance”. Ironically, the skeleton was played by a young, lithe woman. To me, the skeleton embodied “death”; the program ascribed “time”. One could make a case for synonymousness.

Both Chuck and I found the skeleton’s presence disturbing. That’s because we are acutely conscious of death, now that Chuck’s aunt is dying.

We are all dying. Trite and cliched but it is natheless true. As we come to terms with Tanta’s cancer and begin to work with hospice, how can we be anything else but aware of death?

So to attend Revels, a celebratory tradition for us going back decades, and be repeatedly confronted with death, when what we wanted was distraction and delight, was painful. It didn’t matter that I spent intermission and one quarter of the second act on my cell phone with caregivers, an agency and an emergency room. When that incident was resolved I wanted to go back to good cheer. No matter how rousing the songs nor how robust the audience participation, there she was, the skeleton in our midst.

Perhaps it was coincidence or perhaps a message from the universe and, most likely, of universal importance. But it was more than we wanted; frankly, more than we needed.

Tanta will turn 89 next week. Her doctor, who says he is always wrong about such monumental predictions, says it will not be a year and it will not be six months.

There will likely be no 90th birthday celebration for Tanta.

Just as there is no ninth night.

Not A Creature Was Stirring

...He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight -
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Whether it was written by Clement Clarke Moore or Henry Livingston, Jr. “Twas The Night Before Christmas” has a special place in my heart. Less as a poem and more as the beautiful musical arrangement by Harry Simeone and sung by his Chorale. I can still see my Dad standing in our living room in Warwick, Rhode Island. The room was illuminated by electric candles in the four windows, wax tapers on the mantlepiece, the crackling wood fire below, the twinkling lights on the Christmas Tree and the single golden bulb inside the manger. Dad would be singing along with the album, as it was spinning on the stereo. All was calm, bright, safe and right with world.

May we all know such peace and joy again...

Merry Christmas!

Happy Chanukah!

Tonight is the first night of Chanukah. We lit the candles, read the story and sang the songs. But I’m afraid the latkes will have to wait another day or so until things slow down around here.

They will slow down, won’t they? ;o)

Here’s some useful information which I posted last year:
: : As always, Chabad.org has an a great and exhaustive section of their website devoted to all things Chanukah - from history to how to light the menorah/chanukiah.

: : And the best book to guide you through the Festival of Lights is still “Haneirot and Halalu, These Lights Are Holy” edited by Elyse D. Frishman and illustrated by Leonard Baskin.

A Freilichen Chanukah!

Need Or Scam & Does It Matter?

Back in May of 2010 I posted about my dilemma when it comes to being panhandled. Many of you shared your stories of when you do and don’t and the internal struggles you have. I came away from that discussion feeling that saying no was generally the best strategy and to always say no to giving someone a lift somewhere. However, in the twenty months since I posted “Need Or Scam?” I have witnessed several instances of generosity under comparable circumstances, by folks seemingly far less fortunate than I. I say seemingly because we never can really tell who’s the prince and who’s the pauper just on appearance alone. These have happened in Worcester, Boston, Brookline, Cambridge and so on.

Late one night last winter, there was a young man who was a bit in his cups. He claimed he hadn’t eaten all day and wanted a couple of bucks to get a hamburger at the Burger King across the street from the Hess gasoline station in Webster Square in Worcester. He approached Chuck who was pumping gas. Chuck politely declined. Sitting in the car, I watched as the fellow went up to all the other customers. The only one who reached into his pocket and handed him a couple of bucks was a young man, dressed very casually, driving a beater. If I had been ranking customers socio-economically based on their rides, this guy would have been at the bottom.

Another time I was waiting for Chuck to sort out a transaction at the service desk in the Stop and Shop in Lincoln Plaza. It was late. The store was quiet with only one clerk near me ringing up orders. I watched as several customers passed through. I saw a young woman shopping with her pre-teen daughter. They were purchasing basic, no frills items. When the clerk asked if she wanted to donate to a local charity, the woman did not hesitate and said yes immediately. Then a man came through buying value sized bags of rice, cans of Spam and a few other basics. He too readily agreed to donate. None of the three appeared to have the last name of Rockefeller or Trump. But a couple of customers in office attire both declined to contribute - as had we when we were checking out. While not the same as being panhandled I was struck by the difference in responses.

These and several other moments have triggered interesting conversations between Chuck and me on our long rides between home and Rhode Island or home and Brookline. As a result, we ended up shifting our position on panhandlers from no to maybe.

This evening, we were driving back home from a tough visit in Brookline involving a medical appointment for a loved one. We ran a few errands along the way including stopping by the WalMart in Northborough. As we exited our vehicle in the bustling parking lot, a man in his late thirties or early forties approached us. He was holding a cell phone. He said he was driving between Worcester and Framingham and his car was running on fumes. Could we give him two or three bucks just to get a gallon of gas. He expressed embarrassment because of his predicament. He offered to mail the money back to us. (See paragraph one of Need Or Scam?!) Neither one of us fully believed him. Chuck glanced at me. I nodded and Chuck handed the fellow three bucks. The man repeated his offer to mail it back to us. (He had no way of knowing that was the least reassuring part of his story!) We declined and wished him well.

Will we always say yes? Not likely. But as we walked into WalMart we both felt glad that we had once again said yes. This time we understood that we had acted in a gray area, but that we had acted in kindness and with a desire to trust. We also knew the importance of letting go - not just of the three dollars, but of the decision. The money was moving on in the universe. We sent it with our best wishes.

23 & 1/2 Hours

Wow.
This puts it all in perspective:



Thank you Dr. Mike Evans!

Flash!

I admit I get a kick out of the flashmob phenomenon. This one from Minnesota is a holiday delight!
Enjoy!

One Sideshow Closes

Herman Cain “suspended” his presidential campaign today.

Jaws did not drop.

There are so many important problems in need of solutions in this country and around the world. It's troubling how much media attention was devoted to Cain and all of his "alleged" affairs. Journalists should know better, but they find the bread and circuses impossible to resist. Before tossing his hat into the race, Cain had to know he was never a viable presidential candidate. He’s been in it just to raise his profile and to profit from it down the road. He owes all of us an apology for wasting our time and serving up adulterous chum to the media.

Not to mention the apology he owes his beleaguered wife Gloria.

My Life, Your Life - It’s All Equal - Or It Should Be

I love this video from the Australian group “GetUp!”. In less than two minutes they take us on a journey we all can recognize and relate to.

Thanks to MoveOn.org for linking to this video which they described as “the best ad for marriage equality we’ve ever seen”. I can’t disagree.

53 - 18 = 35

You may remember I posted about the incredible moment of serendipity when I met an elementary school classmate from Rhode Island, while visiting in Seattle back in June. That led to a mini-reunion in Rhode Island in late July. On a hot and humid Friday afternoon, ten of us gathered at our Catholic elementary school for a private tour. No teachers, no administrators, just a group of adults touring the school grade by grade, letting all the memories tumble out. We laughed; we hugged; many of us cried; all of us agreed it was a powerful, transformative event. After that cathartic tour we moved on to a friend’s home, where the reminiscing continued, but laughter was the rule.

That chance meeting on the other side of the country and the upcoming mini-reunion on this coast caused me to do something I swore I would never do: join FaceBook. I was convinced that FaceBook consisted of all of the worst parts of high school writ large and splashed across the public square. But almost everyone going to the mini-reunion was on FaceBook and they were all smart and funny and kind. So I did it. I figured I could just join quietly. I would “friend” just that little group, upload a few pics from grade school and later some photos from the reunion itself.

Turns out, it’s not easy to join FaceBook “quietly”! My best friend from elementary school went to college with a couple of gals I went to high school with. Within a few hours of my chit-chatting and friending within our little circle, I began to get friend requests from high school pals. Unbeknownst to me I went to high school with the 21st century FaceBook equivalent of Paul Revere! I was suddenly in the thick of catching up with high school kids I hadn’t had contact with in decades. And it was a whole lot of fun! The biggest surprise was that none of the kids who had been miserable to me in high school was on FaceBook. WTH? and Thank Heavens!

Last night was my 35th high school reunion. The folks on FaceBook I had reconnected with all just assumed I would be there. Eventually I took a deep breath and bought our tickets. Chuck and I drove down to Rhode Island and spent about five hours hugging, talking and laughing - with one dance thrown in for good measure. It was terrific. I felt right at home. Most of the folks there I had not seen in 35 years. Others I had stayed in touch with through college and for several years beyond that. But some deep pain in my life caused me to abruptly absent myself for 23 years. My disappearance was so complete that when I did materialize on FaceBook a friend asked: "Well, well, well, just get out of the witness protection program?"! Pretty darn close!

As you might expect I got a bit nervous before the event. So I did what any 53 year old woman with a Twitter account would do, I told a few Tweeps what I was doing and asked: “Am I Crazy?” Some seemed to think I was, in fact, crazy, but they all wished me luck and helped to buck me up. One of them, CookieCrumb, gave me some great advice which became my mantra as we drove to the event and walked through the front door: “You have nothing to prove and nothing to lose”! She was absolutely right.

Oh, and one of the kids who had bedeviled me in the high school halls was there. Mid-way through the evening I had occasion to walk by him. We made eye contact and I said “Hi ____” and kept on walking. He didn’t say a word. Yup. nothing to prove and nothing to lose is a sweet place to be!



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