Category: Relationships

The Jewish Mother I Wish I Had

Kugel warm from the oven.  Walks to the library hand-in-hand with my mother past Silverod’s Pharmacy where she might buy me a candy bar.

Forget those fantasies. That’s not the Jewish mother I had, not like some of the others I saw all around me when I was growing up in Brooklyn. I walked to the library on my own. On the coldest winter days, she pushed me out the door during blizzards and I was one of the few who showed up on the days when New York City schools were canceled. I trudged home down deserted streets clutching the chocolate Devil Dog I bought from the deli across the street from my school.

Years later, in a classic reverse migration she moved from Miami to Baltimore in her late 70s settling in just in time for our caretaking roles to switch. Still I was hopeful that she might become a traditional Jewish grandmother. Everyone should get a second chance.

My kids loved her attention and we had our rituals, especially our Mother’s Day brunch at the Museum Café.  She would split one big sundae with my kids when they were young enough to share but they shared little with my mother as they grew older and her attention wandered.

On a Mother’s Day when she became too ill to go out to brunch, we visited her in the nursing home, and the nurses and aides there that day told me she was a favorite. “She adopted us all.” Who was this woman, I wondered.

This is our second Mother’s Day without her. The second year I won’t be dragging my kids and myself to visit and we won’t be wondering when it’s time to go. I know now she wasn’t the Jewish mother I wanted but I still wish I had somewhere to go.

 

It’s Never Too Late To Marry Your College Boyfriend

Mae, one my closest friends, got married a few days ago, for the first time, at the age of 59. She married her college boyfriend.

Simple math: She was 16 and a freshman when they met 43 years ago in the dorms at the University of Miami.

Here are a few essential things to know about Mae:

In a world clouded by cynicism, she is one of the most optimistic and generous people I know.

She spent her 20s creating intricate lace and beaded wedding gowns for dozens of brides, many of whom became her friends. I met one at her wedding.

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At the wedding with Mae

In her 30s, she became a therapist, a natural transition following years of providing counsel for her many friends. Oh, the hours she spent on the phone getting me through the many real and imagined crises in my life.

Her therapeutic work focused on bringing joy into the lives of the elderly, running bereavement workshops for children, and working in Miami for many years with cancer patients and their families. You can get a sense of her personality by watching an interview with her a few minutes into a documentary  about caring in the face of loss.

In a ballroom filled with white orchid centerpieces that almost reached to the ceiling, a 10-piece band played “I’ve Dreamed of You,” a song written by Ann Hampton Calloway, as John and Mae took their first dance.

I saw her again as the girl I knew: the first friend I made at Glades Junior High, Mae, my dance partner at our 7th grade fall dance. Now here she was floating in a lace gown she had sewn herself, surrounded by a lifetime’s collection of friends who loved her. What a privilege it is to be one of them.

 

Should You Really Ask The Tough Questions Before Getting Married?

I came across an article about 13 Questions to Ask Before Getting Married. Fortunately, it came too late. Exactly 25 years too late.
Because I read it just as I was celebrating my 25th wedding anniversary.
Relationship experts from the National Institute of Relationship Enhancement, the Couples Institute, and a divorce coach urge those contemplating the forever “I Dos” to step back first and answer some really tough questions such as:

Will you bail me out if I have debt? How often will you want sex now and in the future? Will you change diapers when we have children? Do you really like my parents?

Dear friends: Those of you who are single, recently married, divorced, or past the 10-year-mark, I suspect that you may have some strong reactions to this article and it’s worth reading through the full story.

My questions for the experts: Are you married? Did you ask these questions before you were married? And are you still married?

Yes, these are important questions and I believe these subjects should be discussed before marriage. But seriously, how many of us in the throes of infatuation and lust would answer truthfully? What is truth? Who can predict the future at such a time in our lives?

In my rear-mirror view, I know now I should have asked a few more questions. I needed far more clarity on the diaper issue, for instance, but on the major issues I put my trust in someone who shared my values. A few years ago, I knew I could count on my husband when my 90-year-old mother needed a step up to assisted living. No question about it.

So I guess I wonder how many of us would really take those vows if we fessed up to all those answers. Maybe a little bit of faith and eventual compromise really gets you through. But don’t ask me. I’m no expert.

 

Why Work Friends Become Real Friends

Why do we still feel connected to some work friends from our past and not to others?

I thought about this yesterday when two random events brought this home to me and I realized I was closely linked to two women because sometimes colleagues become confidantes and real friends.

At Starbucks, I ran into Jean, a journalist I used to work with at The Sun in Baltimore.  After we hugged, we spent an hour catching up about our kids, our lives, and our current careers – in that order – because at this stage that’s how it usually goes. What I most remember during our time at The Sun many years ago was that as her star rose and mine fell, she remained loyal. It wasn’t the most political choice for her and I was grateful. As we were leaving Starbucks, we noticed another former colleague busy writing on his laptop. We didn’t stop,

Around 10 that evening when I scanned my Facebook feed, I was stunned to see a post from Charlyne, sharing that it was one of the worst days of her life. Her husband Carter had died at home with hospice care. We had started our careers as journalists at The Sun-Sentinel in Fort Lauderdale and then, as things often happened, she had come up to work at The Sun a year or two after I had.

There’s been a lot of conversation lately about the public/private disclosure of the most personal health information and Charlyne had chosen the private way. For years – and we had not seen each other for many years after she moved back to Florida – she has been one of my favorite Facebook friends, always congratulating me on life’s milestones and my family, and sharing great articles about journalism.

I woke up crying this morning thinking about Charlyne and the death of her husband. I woke up thinking about her friendship during my illness when I was 30 and single and trying to keep my illness private. I also remembered how thrilled I was when she met Carter. She deserved all the happiness in the world.

Real friends step outside the workplace. I think of Jean and Charlyne as two women who stood by me when I was vulnerable. They changed my life and made me believe that kindness could be found everywhere, even at work.

 

A Not-So-Funny Valentine’s Story

I was once so desperate to get the attention of a young man who dumped me that I created a poetry magazine just to publish my sad little Valentine’s Day poem.

Many Valentine’s Days have come and gone and none were as desperate as that one but those pathetic lines proved prophetic:

“Valentine’s Eve, no knights of desire…Caught up like a kite in the wind with too many trees in my path.”

Ok, folks, I was only 16.
Over the years I spent many more of those Valentine’s Days and Nights alone than with someone special.

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But things changed early in my coupledom with my husband as we sometimes went out to overpriced dinners and I received the $50-a- dozen-soon-to-be- wilting red roses. A night out – dinner, a sitter – could set us back a lot. I realized how lucky I was to be part of a couple and how much time I had wasted being sad when I was solo.

Yes, it’s the thought that counts and here’s my thought.

My Nordic prince, wherever you are: You were not worth poetry, not even my bad poetry. After I exposed myself and heard people laughing behind my back, I waited for any response. Even if I couldn’t win you back, I hoped to see some twinkle of recognition as you passed by and looked down from your lofty heights. Yet, I never knew what you thought. Only years later did someone tell me her story. Then I realized you were probably just making your way through the yearbook. I was only in the Fs. You had to hurry. It was midway through junior year and it was a long way to Z.