Tag Archives: friendship

February 27, 2009 · 7:50 pm

She bit her tongue?

bite_tongue_bird

Conversation with my mom tonight:

Mom: I spoke with so-and-so today.

Me: That’s nice, you haven’t heard from her in awhile.

Mom: No, we have been talking a lot lately. She is a bit lonely. She doesn’t have many friends her age anymore that she can talk to.

Me: She NEVER had any friends, of any age.

Dad: (in the background) She NEVER had any friends. (Dad and I think alike, we are both evil to my mom’s sweetness)

Mom: Behave, the both of you. It was a nice conversation. She bit her tongue.

Me: Really? I am so surprised, she was never one to not say what was on her mind.

Mom: No, she actually BIT HER TONGUE. It was bleeding and everything!

You 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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February 23, 2009 · 11:32 pm

Time to Cry Tuesday – Sitting Shiksa

sitting-shiksa2No, there is not a typo in that headline. Keep reading and you will see what I mean.

This past week one of my dearest friends – my wife of sorts –  lost her dad. She and I are known somewhat as the Lucy and Ethel of our community. Our antics are legendary (in our minds, anyway). The following is an adaptation of an email that I sent to our friends:

After a long period of compromised health, my friend’s dad cried uncle and died peacefully. Unfortunately, she was away on vacation with her daughter and had to return quickly to make arrangements. As you can imagine this has been a very difficult time for her. But I am happy to report her sense of humor and love of life is fully intact. Read on.

She will be going to Arizona for a first memorial service on Sunday and then to Boston on March 3rd where she and her brother will have his ashes buried next to her mom, hopefully in an ‘uneventful’ ceremony. Not a chance! (note: as with all families there is the predicted drama that is hard to avoid)

As her life is here in NY now, we know that there are many that want to pay their respects to her since she is always there for everyone else. Only our dear friend, in her grief, could call me this morning with this novel and frankly hysterical request. Let me share our conversation:

Friend: Hi, it’s me again. I decided you are right and I need to do something here.

Me: That’s great, what did you have in mind?

Friend: I think I would like to ‘Sit Shiksa’!

Me: That could be the funniest thing I have ever heard.

Friend: Oh and tell people to forget the boxes of cake, bring wine and have a drink with me to celebrate my dad’s life.

For those who are not ‘of the tribe’, when someone dies in the Jewish religion we sit Shiva. Shiva meaning ‘seven’ in Hebrew, we receive guests in our home to pay their respects for 7(ish) days. (it’s complicated)

Figuring that 7 days of guests would surely put her husband in a psych unit, sitting Shiksa will be an afternoon ordeal. Shiksa, on the other hand, means ‘woman who is not a Jew’. Of course we all know that our friend is a Jew by association by now as she has been to more Bar Mitzvot and Shiva calls than most Jews by birth.

Please join their family, not to mourn, but celebrate the life of the man who fathered our dear friend. One hell of a guy and a man who always loved a good party. He will surely be there with us.

If you have friends of mixed marriages, or live in a diverse community, pass this on. There are few that hear it who cannot relate.

Here is to my dear friend, who can truly make lemonade out of ANY situation in life. And who always keeps me laughing, even through her tears. When she married our dear friend, she married us too. And she has been a hell of a good sport about it for the past 20 years. We love you babe. May your grieving be cathartic and know we will love you forever.

Sitting on my desk is a framed piece you gave me years ago:

Friends are the family you choose.

I choose you!

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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February 17, 2009 · 7:33 pm

Taxicab Confessions Revisited or Putting the Social in Social Media

taxi

A quick aside, sorry for no Time to Cry Tuesday this week… had not time (to cry).

Back in October we had this wild experience in a cab with a driver who claimed to be Doug Ingle from Iron Butterfly. Go ahead and read that link, I will wait.

Ok, so a couple of weeks ago I received a comment on that post from someone named Ryan who said that their dad had the same experience. Small internet.

Today, I did my usual afternoon stat check (that is what we bloggers do to validate ourselves now and then) and I saw that there was an inordinate amount of hits on that very post. Linking to the source I was led here where sure enough there are others with the same story, and my post was linked about halfway down.

So this guy tells this story all the time. Maybe all of us that have been in his cab need a Facebook group. Or not.

Seriously, this is one of the greatest things about blogging. The internet gets smaller everyday. Things come full circle and people find others who have had the same experiences.

The social in social media.

On that note I will let you all know that this weekend I was lucky enough to meet two of my original blog friends, or as my family likes to refer to them, my imaginary friends. Shouting out to Wendy and Liz, who I am pretty sure I could have gone to summer camp with in another life. These are two women I am proud to say I am now REAL friends with. Or friends IRL (in real life) as they say in the blogosphere. For those who are fearful of meeting people online I can say beyond a shadow of a doubt, neither one of them is a psycho OR a creep.

Oh, and we are not dating for those who think that is the only reason to meet people online.

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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February 9, 2009 · 11:14 pm

Time to Cry Tuesday – A remarkable story

This Time to Cry Tuesday finds me retelling a story that I heard last week. I was at a photo shoot, working with this group for the first time. It was one of those perfect work days where all the planning worked out, the team was incredibly talented and they were all truly warm interesting people.

We broke for lunch and were chatting about this and that, when the prop stylist shared this story with us. She had heard it, of all places, from the Russian women where she gets her facials!

The story begins with a couple planning their wedding. There was a dinner for the extended families to meet. The grandmother of the bride and the grandfather of the groom were both Holocaust survivors. They got to talking and each discovered that the other was a survivor. They talked about carrying the tattoos of the camps throughout their lives as a reminder. The woman states her number and then the man recites his.

She stops cold.

“That could not possibly be your number”, she said.

“Of course it is my number, how could I make a mistake about something that I see everyday of my life. Why would you say it was not my number?” he replied.

“Because…” , she begins, “THAT was my husband’s number and I lost him in the camps.”

The room becomes silent as the two realize that after all these years – having survived, moved to the states, married others thinking that each had perished, built families and lives – they are reunited.

Some story, right?

As the stylist told the story she began to tear up. As did I. And everyone else in the room. In this work environment we all shared this unbelievable moment. We came to the conclusion that in the big picture of life these two had lost each other so long ago because their grandchildren-to-be were meant…

to be.

I love a good story of fatalism.

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 26, 2009 · 11:38 pm

Time to Cry Tuesday – An Icon

Sorry, third time in as many weeks that I am posting about loss. However, this one is quite different.

Sunday I had the pleasure (yes pleasure!) of attending a memorial service for someone who helped shape the woman I am today.  Actually, not just me, but hundreds of women through the 60s and 70s. This woman, Alice Sternin, was the director of the summer camp I attended. I have posted about this idyllic place from my childhood before, as both my children are fortunate enough to share in the legacy.

I have never attended a service where there was as much laughter as tears. The essence of this woman was described by countless speakers. Everyone in the room shared the same memories of this tiny woman who was larger than life.

People traveled from all over the country. Family and friends spoke. One after another, stories were shared that sparked long forgotten memories for each one of us . When her famous lines were quoted, the entire room joined  in unison. Treasured camp songs were sung and tears were shed for the loss, not just of this woman, but the childhood jewel this perfect place had been for all of us.

My daughter has had the good fortune to have had this same experience. The following is an excerpt from a letter I wrote to Jana and her girls at the end of their last summer as campers. This sums up what this woman built. And her legacy will carry on long after she is gone.

You are so very lucky to have this piece of your life. Camp is something that you cannot put a label on. There are no words to describe how you feel when you are with your girls. How the sight of the lake and mountains fill your heart in a way that nothing else in this world truly can. The essence of camp is ingrained in each and every one of you. It is part of what makes you who you are, and believe me, who you will always be. We are all beyond lucky to know these feelings.

Leaving is never easy.  All these years later I still tear up as I walk out of camp and drink in one last moment of the place I love so much.

Never, NEVER, take this place for granted. Hold it close and it will never let you down.  

Today, as I sat with MY girls so many years later, I felt the full weight of those words.

Here’s to you Big Al! The toughest camp director in the East. With the biggest heart! You will be dearly missed, but rest easy, your legacy will never die.

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 8, 2008 · 9:40 pm

Time to Cry Tuesday – Please Help

camp-boys1

Oy, talk about time to cry…

This post hits very close to home for my family.

I have written about my kids experience at the summer camp that both my husband and I attended. Friendships made there are ones that run deep and last a lifetime. My son spent this past summer as a waiter; the ultimate summer at this camp. For those who do not know the culture it is hard to understand how seven weeks can make such an impact on a young man’s life. But for the lucky few there is an understanding of what it means to know that each and every one of their boys will always have their back. It is a sense of belonging that can not be duplicated.

Sadly, one of these young men is battling a very serious illness and we all need to have his back. This is a 16-year-old boy that we have known for many years. He is part of our extended camp family and when he falls we bleed.

He is one of 594 patients who are members of the Chordoma Foundation.

In less than two years the Chordoma Foundation has done some VERY promising research which could lead to new treatments in time to benefit those living with chordoma today!

But this research cannot happen without funding. Many researchers have projects ready to start immediately but are simply waiting for one thing – money.

Please join me in helping these families reach their goal of raising $300,000 by the end of 2008. If all 594 patients and family members pledged to donate and/or raise $500 by the end of the year they can get pretty damn close.  Any amount will help, it all adds up.

It is a custom in our family to donate one night’s hannukah gift to a charity. This year it is an honor to do so to help our friend. I urge you all to consider a similar donation, one less present at the holiday is a small price to pay for such a huge gift to those in dire need.

This young man’s brother has created an online Chordoma Community. Through this website, donations made in his name can be tracked. Please make your donation in honor of his mom, my friend Diane Seaman. This season let’s give this family the gift of hope.

Thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

Bloggers and Twitterers, please link, digg, kirsty, stumble, RT and whatever else you can do to help pass this along. Follow me on Twitter @amyz5 with the hashtag #chordomahelp.

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October 13, 2008 · 8:55 pm

Time to Cry Tuesday

Wow, Tuesday again? Jeez, I could cry but I don’t have….

Ok, that was lame. Sorry.

I thought a lot about what belonged here this week. Since the last TtCT I have spent a lot of time with family and community for the Jewish holidays. This time of year leaves us Jews all sorts of reflective.

I could have written about the moving sermons given by our clergy (fabulous, actually). Or some of the touching moments with my family. Or how hard it is to have a holiday without our dear sweet Jana-girl. (there we all go, tears are starting).

But there was one incident that stood out this week for me. I have already shared it with a few of you so if you want to go get a cup of coffee now and come back tomorrow I will understand.

On Yom Kippur evening I was near the entrance of the synagogue greeting congregants. (Over-volunteer job #10,000: Synagogue Board Member). An elderly gentleman that I have known for many years came into the lobby with his tie undone. He has not been well for the past few years yet he always makes the effort to attend services. He looked agitated and was asking if we had seen his friend who he asked for by name. With kindess and grace a man I was standing with gently guided this man off to the side and offered to help him with his tie. He had a calming way of helping him with the dignity and compassion that he deserved.

The beautiful thing about this story is that the helper was not someone I would have expected this from. This was a genuine gesture of caring that was so in the spirit of the holiday that it took my breath away. Just a simple act of kindness that made all the difference to someone who has suffered so much.

People will surprise you.

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August 25, 2008 · 9:54 pm

Time to Cry Tuesday

(don’t worry, tomorrow I will be funny again and tell you all about the lunatics at UPS and the 21lb box of missing shoes)

I hope tomorrow you’ll find better things

Friendship.

There are days when I wonder how I would be able to go on without the people in my life that ground me. Those who are there… no matter what. And I try my best to be there for them.

The stars must  be aligned in a funky way, as quite a few special people in my life are going through some very trying times.

Lately I have heard a lot of sadness and worry.

And of course waking up at 4AM to drive to Milwaukee and fly away from my sweet daughter only added to the melancholy feeling of the day.

But as luck would have it, there always seems to be some cosmic intervention that makes me sit up and take notice.

To listen.

This morning, as I drove into the most magnificent sunrise (note picture taken from the steering wheel at 70mph), Sirius radio gave me a wonderful gift. They played a favorite old Kinks song, Better Things.

To those who are suffering the tough times, those who are just feeling a little sad about their kids growing up and their lives changing, and even those who just need to look towards the future, here are my fave lines from this song:

Here’s hoping all the days ahead
Won’t be as bitter as the ones behind you.
Be an optimist instead,
And somehow happiness will find you.
Forget what happened yesterday,
I know that better things are on the way…

Accept your life and what it brings.
I hope tomorrow you’ll find better things. 

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August 16, 2008 · 10:11 pm

Best Friends are from Mars, Cheerleaders are from Venus

(I can’t wait to see how many search terms I get with cheerleaders in them)

Today Gary played in the tennis club mixed doubles tournament with Joanne. (yes, she is still talking to us even after she watched our dog five weekends in a row, one of which the dog bit her husband Marc’s toe trying to get a tennis ball).

Being the good spouse – no jokes please – I went to watch. Ok, so maybe as much in support for Jo as for Gary. I had the pleasure of sitting next to Marc (Gary’s friend since birth) AND my father-in-law (an avid blog devotee I might add – hey Boss!). Talk about show no mercy, these guys were ruthless. And hysterical. The running commentary was fantastic. The two closest men in his life had is number, big time. He could not get away with a single gesture. They read his body language like a book.

And there is Joanne out on the court. The greatest cheerleader of them all. The ultimate optimist. What a tennis partner. It was touching how nice she was to him, way nicer than I am for sure (that would be the ‘other husband rule’).

Sadly, they did not win, but put up an honorable fight.

Conversation after the match:

Gary: Jo, you are such a great cheerleader out there.

Joanne: I like to keep things positive. I kept complimenting him when he had a great shot. I told him to keep focused – we could still turn things around. When we hit a slump, I cheered him on.

Marc: Ridiculous! When he gets like that I just tell him to stop being such a fucking mope!

Gary: Honestly, I react better to Marc’s tactics.

And that, my friends, is the difference between men and women in a nutshell.

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