Category Archives: aging parents

August 14, 2011 · 10:58 pm

Happy Birthday to the World’s Best Mom

No, not me! I would never be that self-serving. I am talking about MY mom.

This weekend we celebrated a very special birthday with my mother. Through some miracle and lots of corralling of 3 generations of cats, we were able to get the entire family together. Even Danny made it – fresh off the camp bus.

A huge thank you and hugs forever to the Chef love of my life, Don, for making this meal over the top amazing. Big plug for Valentino’s on the Green (might I highly recommend EVERYTHING on the menu)

As my mom put it so eloquently in her little speech after dins, having everyone all together in one place made turning this rather strange number worth it.

Here’s to my mom, the bravest woman I know. Wishing you the best birthday ever. May you always feel the love that surrounded you tonight, and know that we are all blessed to have you in our lives.

Now, if all you readers would be so kind as to come out of the woodwork, please wish mom a happy birthday.

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March 29, 2010 · 11:21 pm

Time to Cry Tuesday – The Original 4

If you have been reading along these past few days you would know that I took a trip to Florida to see my parents with my brother. We left our spouses home. And our kids? Well, they aren’t kids anymore so they have their own lives and we can’t lure them places with pool noodles and water wings. Although the promise of a good ice cream sandwich and free drinks at happy hour might get them to join us.

This was a bit of a last minute trip for me and I am so glad I took it. I can count on my hand the times in the past 25 years that it has just been the 4 of us. And sadly I would have to say most of those times were not surrounding very pleasant circumstances. Don’t get me wrong, we adore having our spouses and families with us, as do our parents. But there is something very special about going back to the original family unit of your childhood for a short time. My husband did it earlier this season (well 4 of his original 5 made it) and he too, appreciated having that historical dynamic.

This was the first extended period of time that we were able to just hang out and enjoy each other’s company. For so many years our interactions centered around the kids. Our professional lives are very demanding and leave us little time to just be. Lost were the days that we could sit at a table uninterrupted and have a complete conversation. This weekend was a gift of healthy (well except for mom’s 24 hour bug) parents and time to enjoy them.

With the backdrop of South Florida’s planned communities as never ending fodder for humor we had a lot of laughs.

Funny, we sat in the back seat of my dad’s car in our childhood positions. Fortunately we did not bicker. Since my brother is 4 1/2 years older I never did stand a chance in a fight and always wound up crying or having a nose bleed (don’t ask).

Times like this are a breeding ground for childhood memories. We talked of things that were long forgotten. The simple thrill of going to work with my dad when we were kids; the smell of the subway, the pretzels on the street, the chestnuts, eating lunch at the Automat, going to Kresge’s Five and Dime to buy junk. My dad was the original Bring Your Child to Work Day guy. And not just my brother, he expected the same from me as he did from his son; no double standard in our house. We talked about my mom’s garden (and the gardener, G-d help that poor man) and how excited she is to get back to nurturing her plants.

We discussed family holidays when we were kids and how my grandmother used to bring Jordan Almonds, jellied fruit slices and Dunkin’ Donuts to our house. Beach days with the children when they were babies, and how they have all grown up to be such amazing young adults.

These are the little things that make up a life. Nothing truly monumental (although some would beg to differ about the Jordan Almonds), just the details that give us all history; lives made up not of days, but of moments.

Thanks Mom and Dad, not only for a lovely weekend, but for teaching us how to be parents. And giving us the gift of your time – whenever we have needed you.

Happy Passover (and pass me a tissue, please).

Oh and if you are all wondering, yes, that is my brother’s Bar Mitzvah picture. Cute wasn’t I? (in a mousey sort of way). Looks like something straight out of A Serious Man.

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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March 28, 2010 · 12:30 pm

Florida Soundbites

Florida: Day 4 and leaving.

I thought I would wrap this one up with some funny things that were said or seen over the weekend. But first I would like to give a big shout out WHAT THE HELL to the two women who just sat behind me in the Jet Blue terminal at PBI. I am an hour early for my flight because I love airports my brother’s flight was earlier and I am literally one of 4 people at the gate. These two blabbermouths had to sit in the seats directly behind me and yack away…

in a foreign language. SERIOUSLY!

Ok, so here are some of the funnier things from the weekend:

My Aunt: My mother told me that she loved my father more after he was dead.

My Cousin: While playing a game with all the grandmothers when they were still with us (this was the generation of my grandmother) in response to body parts that come in pairs my Aunt’s mother (from above) responded, “Penis” This could explain why she stayed with her husband for so many years, even if she loved him more after he was dead.

My Mom: (in response to my dad saying that I had a great sense of humor) Yeh, especially when it comes to poo. (ok, my brother and I discuss bodily functions maybe a little bit more than average siblings).

My Dad: You have to understand all our weather comes from the West. It comes in from the Gulf of Mexico. That means we get used weather.

For a nice little wrap up, here are three of my favorite signs:

1. This billboard sits outside the road leading to my parents’ community. I believe it is placed there just in case all the Northerners of ‘the tribe’ had any questions about His existence.

2. This Derm seems to cover it all. Permanant make-up? WTF? What if you want to change color. Is it like the mood ring material? And would you really trust someone with your skin cancer that does permanent makeup?  Just asking?

3. I will close with the creepy child mannequin and the miracle suit poster, just because this says so much.

In closing, I will quote a dear friend who said this about visiting Florida,  “just remember that you are watching a movie in which you will play the LEADING role some time in the future.”

My answer to that is, “I only pray I will be so lucky.”

Thanks Mom and Dad for a great visit. And Keith, no one makes me laugh quite like you.

Let the Matzoh begin!

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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March 26, 2010 · 10:34 pm

Why My Mom is Like an iPad

Florida Day 2

My Brother: So, are you going to get the iPad?

Me: Nope, not the first generation. It doesn’t have a camera, doesn’t support Flash and has no memory.

My Mom: Jeez, that sounds like me.

Can’t make this stuff up.

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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March 25, 2010 · 10:08 pm

Transvestites, Loehmanns and the Plate Glass Window

For those who do not know, I am in Florida visiting my parents. Hold on to your hats, ladies and gentelman, I am in the the land of Del Boca Del Vista Del Mar Del… vodka please!

If you have never been to the east coast of Florida (west of 95) then think Seinfeld’s parents.

First, my mom made sure I took a sweater because ‘the restaurants down here are freezing’. Um, Mah, I am a menopausal women. Yeh, well, 85 in the restaurant, hands down.

Right about now you are wondering about the transvestites, right? Ok, so we met my Aunt Arlene Whose Not My Aunt and Bert who we never called Uncle Bert and he has finally gotten over being bummed out about that for dinner. (neither of them is a transvestite, hold on, I am getting to it). Growing up she was like my second mom. She and my mother have been best friends since they were girls and she is truly family. We have not seen eachother in a couple of years and tonight she did not disappoint.

Somehow we talked about how they used to take me to Loehmanns when I was little and how freaky the communal dressing room was with all those ladies of different shapes and sizes with the pantyhose and no underwear and the makeup nets on their faces. (I know, a visual to scar any young girl, may explain my severe aversion to pantyhose)

Next they started to talk about when they would go to the Bronx Loehmanns – the Long Island woman’s mecca of fashion bargains. This was a major trip, mind you. They would pack a lunch! They called it ‘doing battle’. Well, it seems Arlene took one such trip without my mom and wouldn’t you know as she came out of the elevator first she saw, “you know that actress that just lost all the weight on Jenny Craig”. “Oh”, I said, “Valerie Bertanelli”. Yes that was it. And right after she gave her a little high sign of a wave, who should come  off the elevator but…

a pack of transvestites.

“What?”, I asked.

“Oh, yes”, she said, ” they come for the ball gowns.”

Who knew?

Then she went on to tell me about a group of transvetites in Forida who would drive a car through the plateglass window of a high-end boutique in Delray to steal the fancy gowns. The woman moved her store and they found her again so she finally closed shop.

And who knew Arl was such an expert on transvestites.

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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October 28, 2009 · 7:39 pm

Zaidie was right!

steely_dan-can_t_buy_a_thrill-big

I have been sitting on this story for the past few days wondering if it was a good idea to share with you all how crazy my family truly is. And then I figured if I have not scared you off yet, this one will entertain you.

The players:

Gram: my mom

Zaidie: my dad

Danny: my son

Gary: my husband

Me: me

(phone rings)

Me: Hello

Gram: Hi. Hey do you know what Steely Dan is.

Me: Sure, mom, it’s a band

Gram: No, I know it is a band. We were just listening to them. But do you know where the name came from.

Me: Um, no. Gary, do you know where the name Steely Dan came from?

Gary: (funny grin, then makes the universal hand signal for a boner)

Me: Really?! Ok, mom, Gary says it’s a boner.

Gram: A boner, nope. Dad said it is a metal dildo.

Ok, so let me interject here for a minute. My mom is 78! And she has always been rather proper. So I am going to say it is a safe bet that I have never heard her say ‘dildo’ before. Surely not ‘metal dildo’ (ouch, BTW)

Danny: (from downstairs) WHAT are you guys talking about?!

Me: Zaidie says that a Steely Dan is a metal dildo but Dad says it is a boner.

Danny: Oh Jeez!

Me: Danny, can you google it please.

a moment passes and then…

Danny: Hey Zaidie was right, it is a metal dildo. Sometimes 2-headed. Ew, I cannot believe I am having this conversation with my parents and grandparents (I believe that was paraphrased)

Seriously, don’t you think that hearing your 17-year-old son say, “Zaidie was right, it’s a metal dildo.” is somehow crossing the line?

Yeh, well, it will all come out on the couch.

FYI, here are may favorite definitions from urbandictionary. com:

1) proper name of a steam powered dildo from the novel Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs.

STEAM POWERED?!! ouch! and this one:

2) A Massive Metal dildo, sometimes double-headed.

Yeh, well that will surely fuel a nice little therapy session for my son in his future.

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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June 8, 2009 · 10:09 pm

Time to Cry Tuesday: Priceless

There are a handful of moments in advertising history that have touched the souls of those who see them. One of the more famous examples is the Mastercard Priceless campaign. This past week, one of my mommy idols could have starred in one of these commercials.

The scenario: The Dave Matthews Band was playing on the Plaza in the Today Show Toyota Summer Concert Series. Both my friend and her 10th grade daughter are huge fans of the band. In fact, they are a full DMB family of fans. This particular friend has found herself to be an unlucky member of the Sandwich Generation. Many of us are in the midst of raising children at the same time we are dealing with aging parents with health problems. Being an only child of a widowed mom, she is the healthcare concierge extraordinaire. Last week was a particularly harrowing one on that front.

Enter the opportunity to go into the city at some ungodly hour (3:30 AM) to stand in line for the concert. She was all set to take her daughter and a friend until the weather turned nasty and she began to rethink the event. At this point her college-aged son pulled her aside in a sage-like manner and told her that she would never forgive herself if she missed this opportunity of a lifetime that her daughter would never forget. (please note: said son aspires to be a documentary film-maker).

Funny how our kids spout back at us what we have taught them.

So, without hesitation, sporting rain gear of all kinds, off they went on the 3:30 train into the city. I received an early text telling me she was there. Within an hour I texted back that I had not only seen her daughter dancing on camera, but had DVRd it. Her daughter could not be happier. Until… (yes this keeps getting better)

…she screamed out, ‘Dave, I love you” during a lull in the performance and he turned around and smiled at her. Kind of like a young girl’s dream come true. Wait, it gets even better.

During the show they gave out foam guitars to the audience. The daughter’s friend was holding one. After the show, Dave came around and signed the guitar! And the friend? He decided that since he would not have been able to go to the show with out her, gave the guitar to this very lucky girl.

I know, Time to Cry all the way around. I love this story. Not only because the main character is one of my main women, but because every step of the way it was about what I like to call ‘the good stuff’. Truly a priceless experience.

Here is a picture of the two happy teens on the train ride home. The inset shows the Dave Matthews sig.

After-the-show

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at 50-Something Moms Blog. For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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January 13, 2009 · 12:02 am

Time to Cry Tuesday – I don’t know and you don’t know

fire-in-the-sky_sm1

There are times in our lives when we are profoundly touched by another person even though we have never met them. Sadly, sometimes they are already gone and we have lost the opportunity.

I have a friend in my community who I am very fond of. We do not know each other all that well but have been friends for a long time and our husbands are btff (best tennis friends forever). She and her family emanate an infectious warmth and hospitality. Being in their home one feels instantly comfortable and engaged. Their circle of friends is equally embracing. We always leave their house feeling as if we have had a full experience. Does that make sense? I hope so.

This past weekend we attended a memorial service for her mom who passed away suddenly last month. This particular congregation has a beautiful custom of creating a booklet of readings for its life cycle events. Friends and family members read from this booklet and helped paint a picture of this vibrant woman.

During the service my friend spoke about the mom she had lost. Theirs was a tender relationship, one that every mother and daughter hopes to have. Her loss was very painful to witness, yet being there I felt the greatest honor she could give her mother was to share who she was with those who did not know her.

She told a story about going back to her mom’s home to sort through the pieces of her life. The most precious things she found were two post-it notes. Her mom had a habit of scribbling down thoughts and sticking them around her home. (a woman after my own heart as I have a bulletin board filled with such things over my desk). One of the notes said it all for me:

You don’t know and I don’t know.

How perfect is that? Pretty much says it all. We can worry and ruminate. We can plan and organize. We can strive and learn and try to control it all. But in the end, you don’t know and I don’t know.

I am sorry I never had the pleasure to meet this fine woman, but in some ways I suppose I have.

To my dear friend, may your grief be tempered with the knowledge that you were loved fully by a mother who adored you. And may your wonderful boys, or shall I say young men, give you the strength and support you need during this terribly sad time.

And may I say, it was an honor to ‘know’ your mom.

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at Mid-Century Modern Moms and at 50-Something Moms Blog.

For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

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December 7, 2008 · 8:40 pm

Thank you Miss Nipples

This is an actual phone conversation with my dad Friday Morning:

Me: Hello

Dad: I am not taking your mother to the Emergency Room.

Me: Um, OK. (looking for my coat and car keys)

Dad: I called AT&T this morning to have the phones turned on in Florida.

Me: (wondering if I had somehow missed a sentence here). Uh, Dad, is mom ok?

Dad: Sure, why?

Me: WHY? Because you said you weren’t taking her to the ER (some major history here that I will not get into but trust me there were times when he SHOULD have taken her to the ER)

Dad: That was a joke because I didn’t want you to worry that I was calling so early.

Me: Oh, funny (not) But it is 9:45, it’s not that early. Never mind. So you were saying that you called AT&T.

Dad: (with Mom starting to laugh in the background and me feeling grateful that she was not unconscious with her head bleeding on the dining room floor) Oh, right. So this woman answers the phone and she sounds like she has a cold, has this really heavy southern accent, and she talked so fast I could not understand her that well. I asked her name and she said “Miss Nipples” (now Mom is really cracking up in the background)

Me: Miss NIPPLES?!

Dad: (Starting to laugh). Yes, so your mother told me to tell her that I was old and hard of hearing and ask her to speak slowly and clearly. (that would be because he is old and hard of hearing but he does not seem old so we always think it is kind of funny to tell people that he is).

Me: I assume you were not wearing your hearing aids.

Dad: What? (just kidding, he didn’t say that but he would) She repeated her name and it was not Nipples (how shocking) it was NICKELS.

Oy.

I told Gary this story later in the day and his response:

Gary: Know what her first name is?

Me: No, what?

Gary: Ophelia. Ophelia Nipples.

Haven’t had enough of me yet? You can also read me at Mid-Century Modern Moms and at 50-Something Moms Blog.

For photo enthusiasts, visit Leaving the zip code, photos from outside the comfort zone.

 

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August 15, 2008 · 12:01 am

Lucky 7s


Today is a very special day.

Today is my mom’s 77th birthday.

Oy, is she going to friggin’ kill me for letting you all know how old she is. But too bad, Ma, you deserve to have everyone wish you a happy, happy day.

I thought it would be a nice gift to share you with the internet – don’t worry, I bought you something too.

Internet, meet my mom. Mom, meet the internet. Don’t worry Mom, for the most part they are very nice people.

Ok here goes…

It is hard to put into words how special my mother is. Growing up she was the ultimate mom. She has taught me, by example, what it truly means to be a parent. She rarely lost her cool (except that thing she did with her lips when we really pissed her off). Our ultimate cheerleader, we were raised to believe we could accomplish anything we set our hearts and minds to. Now my brother, he was a peace of cake to raise. Me, well, if you have been reading this blog, do the math.

Her home was – and still is – always perfect. Growing up I had no idea a house could get dirty. (oh boy, did I learn differently when I had my own place). And she always had the most awesome ‘goodie basket’ (think devil dogs and twinkies). Her garden is her pride and joy and it is beautiful (even if one damn flower was the cause of her breaking a hip last year!).

She is tall, elegant, and as Jana tells her when she has wardrobe doubts, grandmothers always wear the appropriate thing wherever they go.

She has a supportive word for everyone, for some reason thinks ALL babies are cute – even the ugly ones – and has pictures of dozens of them on her fridge. (seriously, send her a baby picture, even if your kid is really funny-looking she will hang it up in one of those lucite magnet frames).

My mom has been no stranger to adversity and yet she rises above it all to live her life the only way she knows how:

lovingly…

to the point of tears! (go ahead, cry. you have the time).

Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.

(now really internet, don’t you think there should be some major commenting here today?)

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