Thursday, September 21, 2017

Casting Away My Sins in the New Year

Happy New Year, Jewish folk! And to anyone else that just enjoys a good celebration! 

Rosh Hashanah began at sundown last night, and we rang in the new year with brisket and challah and turkey and kugel and my very own version of my mom's Jewish apple cake.

We had a table full of kids and laughter and singing (not in the traditional religious way...when my brothers and I get together, we tend to break out into song). 

It was a glorious way to kick off the Fall, a new year, a fresh start, and more!

I woke up today, however, and did not know what to do. Not members of a synagogue yet (joining next year when Miranda starts Hebrew school), I felt a little lost. If I worked a corporate job, I would have taken off. But I am home. And Gary is at work and Miranda is at school and so what was I to do? Pretend it was just like any other day?

Then I heard from my brother, Jeff. He was taking my niece to a local park to perform taschlich. Did I want to go?

I could not reply fast enough! Yes!! That is exactly what I want do to today. 

Tashlich comes from the Hebrew word meaning "to cast," referring to the intent to cast away our sins via this meaningful and ancient Jewish custom common.  The general idea is to go to a body of water on the afternoon of Rosh Hashanah and throw breadcrumbs into it, symbolically washing away all of your sins from the past year. 

What a cool tradition! In all my years, I have only done this act once. I knew I wanted to do it again.

We met up at a natural trail that we have been to before. We greeted each other, grabbed our bread, and took off for sites unseen.

Along the way, we stopped and saw many wildflowers and fallen leaves. The air felt like summer, but the trail looked like fall.

About a mile in, we reached a bridge and stopped to cast our sins. We all tore off pieces of the bread and began to toss them in the still lake. The fish came immediately, and my brother commented that it was a win-win that we could toss away our sins and make sure the fish were fed at the same time.

I tossed my sins from the past year. Goodbye selfishness. Goodbye to being overly critical. Goodbye cattiness. Goodbye jealousy. Goodbye sins!

My niece laughed and delighted in having our pretty much undivided attention. She was practicing saying the word "tashlich" which sounded sooo adorable coming out of her two year old mouth.

After a while, we strode back to our cars. We all felt lighter. I felt free.

Religion to me is as much about the traditions and the spirituality as anything else. That is what I want to raise my family with and that is what I want my daughter to learn. We started a grand tradition today and one that I hope we now do every year with all of the kids that are around. I know mine will be.

To a happy and sweet new year - no matter what religion you are! L'Shana Tova!



Thursday, September 14, 2017

The Sadness of Losing a Long Lost Friend

Late yesterday, I found out that a girl that I roomed with in college passed away from cancer. I was scrolling through Facebook and her picture popped up, in full color.

At first, I did not know what I was seeing. I though, OMG! That's Sherri! What ever happened to her? 

We shared a house with seven other girls during our junior and senior years of college. We pledged different sororities, so we did not have all of the same friends, but we shared the walls of the house and more memories than I can begin to fathom.

We graduated in 1996. Email was just becoming something that everyone used – at work. If you had it at home, you used a dial-up connection that took forever. There was no Facebook. There wasn’t even MySpace.

I have kept in touch with many of my college friends. Unfortunately, I have lost touch with even more. One of the reasons I keep my maiden name in my Facebook profile is so that old friends can still find me. 

But I never found Sherri. To be honest, I am not sure if I even looked. We had a lot of fun together, and when I think about her, all I see is a big smile. I remember her being very positive and very happy.

I clicked on the link last night where I saw her picture staring back at me, and I quickly learned that she was diagnosed with cancer back in 2015. A Go Fund Me account was set up by her husband to help defray the cost of her medical bills and to help them support their three children. 

It’s been 21 years since I have seen her. In that time, she got married, had a family, lived a full life and had died. Way way too soon.

I feel so sad today. I wish I had reconnected with her. I wish I could have been there for her.

It’s normal for people to go their separate ways. It’s part of growing up and moving on. Had I not seen the note on social media, I would not even know she had died.

Grief is a familiar emotion for me. Almost as much as joy or pain. However, I do not know what to do with the loss of this friend that I once knew. A friend that I have not known in over two decades.

My solution was to dig out my college things and try to remember the good times. I found photos of us all in our house on S. Walnut Street, just a few blocks from campus. I found pictures of us out to dinner and at a comedy club for my birthday one year. And I found this one of many of the roommates in the kitchen, where we spent so much of our time. Cooking ramen and mac and cheese, having house meetings about rent and utilities, sharing drinks and the occasional cigarette, and laughter.

Thank you, Sherri, for the trip down memory lane. I hope that if you were in any pain, that is gone now. I hope your husband and children got to spend as much quality time with you as was possible. And I hope that some of that light and happiness that I remember about you was with you up until the end.

My deepest condolences to her whole family.

Some of the WCU Girls. Sherri is on the far left.

Wednesday, September 6, 2017

When All You Can Do Is Cry...Then Cry

While I believe in the power of a good cry, I do not cry all that much. I feel things, sure, but I don't ugly cry all that much. It's always a relief when I do let it all out because I usually feel so good afterward.

Last week, I took advantage of "Tightwad Tuesday" at our local movie theater and went to see The Glass Castle. I had read the memoir years ago and really appreciated it. Now that I am writing my life story, I thought it might be good research to see the movie. I also just really wanted to see how they took the author's words and translated them to the screen.

I enjoyed the movie. It was not as detailed as the book (how could it be?), and there was a lot that was left out, but I loved the acting and the story as a whole. It was a lovely way to spend a few hours on a cold and wet Tuesday afternoon.

There was an aspect of the movie that made me cry. It was not about babies or stillbirth or anything that makes current day me cry. It was about the relationship between the father and his daughter, and it wrecked me.

I make no secret of the fact that my dad and I had a rocky past. I have spent years of my life dealing with the aftermath of how his words and actions impacted me. I did not think that all these years later, I could still be moved to tears by certain memories.

Once the tears started, I could not get them to stop. The tears about my dad and the sadness that came with them turned into tears about Allie and the fact that she was not going to be in any of the back to school pictures that have been splashed all over my social media accounts. I love seeing how grown up and adorable and fashionable and sassy all the kids in my life have become. But last week, all I felt was sorry that there would be no pictures of my first born. It was like a blanket of grief was sitting on my chest. I found it hard to breathe.

I cried in the car. I cried in the shower. One night I started to cry to Gary, and he looked at me with so much compassion. He was supportive and tried to help, but I felt empty and alone and sad. Grief can be so isolating.

The day after I went to the movies, I drove to a local charity and donated all of my old maternity clothes. I told Gary that they were the last connection I had to Allie and that it tore at my heart to let them go. I knew, though, that they would make some other mom very happy (and well dressed!) and there was no need for them to sit in a box in my basement anymore.

They were not my last connection to her. How dramatic! My head knows that. By my heart just could not take it. And neither could my tears.

Eventually, I ran out of tears. The sadness passed. Happiness found its way back in. I packed up my things and Miranda’s things, and we went to the beach for a few days with some family. We had such a great time soaking up the end of summer, living life, and spending time in the present and not the past.

Now I am home. The tears seem to be gone. There is sand in most of my clothes. I can breathe again. The best way to survive is to work through your grief. I am happy that I did. It sure feels good here on the other side.  

Quarantine Life

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