When Really Sad Things Happen

This week has been so incredibly confusing and I am literally exhausted. Emotionally spent.  Every day we are tested with life’s ups and downs and we deal with things as they hit us.

On a “normal” day, kids wake up late, the cereal gets knocked on its side spilling its contents  all over the kitchen floor, an ice pop melted brings piles of ants parading through your home. You miss a bus, your hosiery gets snagged on a zipper, you get a paper cut, you have a migraine. You catch a glimpse of someone flying a kite, a child runs back to give you that one last hug, the flowers in your garden are blooming. You reach the bottom of the laundry basket, your boss gives you a compliment, your kids make dinner, you lost a few pounds.

When something negative and unexpected happens though, you kind of get stuck in this OMG moment. It throws you and can affect the rest of your day in a way that is confusing and upsetting and even if you have other reasons to smile, the day is slightly tainted.

A couple of days ago this world lost a soul that never knew the power of evil. She was well cared for, loved from beginning to end, and the amount of lives she touched just by being born reached international proportions. Her life was not an easy one, filled with daily challenges and we all prayed that each day would bring her comfort and better health.

So I sat shocked as I read the email. I was unprepared for the final blow. How was it possible? I couldn’t wrap my head around it. What happened? Why did G-d do this? We all prayed daily for this to have a better outcome. We all waited for the miracle. I was so sure it would be okay. There was this lingering confusion as the day progressed. One one hand my friend lost her 2-year-old, but I had to prepare for another friend’s wedding, at the same time my father was en route for a medical procedure. All 3 events, the funeral, the procedure, the wedding all happening at the same time of day threw me into emotional overload. My happiness was tainted yet I never cried. Until today.  Today, nothing in particular happened. There were no parties, there were no surgeries, the dust sort of settled and I had time to process it all.

My heart is so heavy and I am terribly saddened that my friend’s baby has left this world.  I had the privilege when I was visiting the states to visit her in the ICU, to hold her hand, to sing to her. It came as no surprise that my friend offered to drive me all the way home.  I could have taken a train I told her, just drop me off at a station…but she would not have it. Ever since I have known her, she ha shad a way of giving of herself that is all about helping others. She organizes and plans and succeeds in producing amazing results. Be it money for the needy, activities for children, a night of special treatment for busy moms, all while raising her own children, all while caring for this special needs baby, and supporting her husband’s academic achievements. I am positive that no one’s life is ever completely stress free – though some live an easier life than others.  She has always been an example to me on how to spend one’s time wisely and to the fullest…but this, this is heart-wrenching. There never seems to be enough words to express sorrow to another mother suffering the loss of her baby, never having gone through the same situation. I cry for the opportunities this child never had. I cry for the parents who, even with having 2 other children who are healthy, will never see this beautiful baby thrive.

I have these picture in my mind that I cannot stop thinking about. Pictures they posted on Facebook so we, who live far away, could follow their lives, that are sort of like a slide show that keeps playing over and over again. One of daddy holding her and she was smiling. One of big brother with both baby sisters at his sides. The one of her with her birthday cake and flowered headband. There is a part of me that is relieved for the parents. There will be no more nights of worrying if she’ll stop breathing or running for emergency surgeries. They can focus 100% on healthy children that are thriving and continuing to grow steadily. While they have a horrible week of mourning ahead of them, knowing they have touched the lives of so many people there will be no shortage of visitors during this time, offering them comfort.

However, I am not there. I can not offer any hugs or hold anyone’s hand. I can sit here and cry. I can not begin to imagine how it feels to lose the life of a child. Just the thought is so overpowering, I break down and cry. I know G-d is compassionate and that this child suffers no more. I pray that of all the people going to pay their respects there is some comfort for the grieving family.  I pray that they are in a place of acceptance and are comforted by the fact they no one needs to suffer this unfairness any longer. It is evident based on the time and effort these parents took to care and love this child, that they did everything in their power to protect and get the best medical experts to monitor her life. We were updated and given the opportunity to share in their lives. We were blessed to be a part of her life. I had many friends praying for this soul and to have to share the news to them, the thought was daunting – how do I tell them? So many responded with words of shock, of sadness, of apology and never even met my friends and their baby.  The power to touch so many lives is amazing.

To know that I had this small impact and the message reached so many people to help in any way they could give me some small comfort. I will share these thoughts with the mourning parents and I look forward to sharing happier messages in the future.

I’m Right. You’re Wrong. Period.

I am not the king of Siam or a foreign diplomat or doctor or even anything remotely ‘important’ as far as my current job placement. Sure – people depend on me and I feel good about what I do day-to-day.

BUT  – when I get scolded for being late – EVEN THOUGH I SENT A TEXT alerting to the fact that I’d be late because my daughter needed a chest x-ray and blood work to see why she has been sick for the last 6 days – that makes me angry. Besides that I am entitled to take off time for my children when they are sick. Besides that – lead by example – if you take off or come in late for every little minor and major personal thing going on in your life – what gives you the right – (a higher pay scale and fancier title?) to tell me I can’t when something major is going on in my personal life.

I hate people who put up a show for others. I hate people who think they are better than me – and act like it. I hate when people throw me under the bus. I work harder for more people than almost everyone in my office and get paid the least. When I am told something in a tone that is offensive and unnecessary I get pretty worked up, but I know my place. I refuse to enter into a verbal disagreement with anyone – especially my superior – but I do need to vent it  – so here goes:

I don’t need to make apologies when I put my children before my secretarial job (even though its way more than that – blablabla). I don’t need to show off in front of others to me look better than I am. I don’t need to bring others down to make me look better. I don’t need to threaten anyone – ever *except my children if they get out of bed for the millionth time.

If I were a team leader I would be compassionate to those that seem like they are struggling with personal issues. I would want the members of my team to perform the best they could – because they were in a healthy – not hostile environment.

To prove my point. Another “boss” asked me about a project that he needed – when I told him I had to pause because some others exerted their authority (as usual) saying their project takes precedence – even he made a mock display of the other person’s attitude so it’s not like I am seeing things through hurt eyes. I would respect my employees and offer assistance whenever I could – I never get that but I am ok with that – we don’t need to be friends. But I would like more respect – I would like to think that after working with someone for 8 years that there would be a mutual understanding as far as mother’s needs goes – but I guess only when the big cheese isn’t around, it’s just so two-faced it makes me literally sick. 

So there. I feel better. But I am still angry this is the way it came about. I know I was right to do what I did. I feel only upset by the fact that someone thought it was okay to make me feel bad and threaten me.  How do these people get the job as ‘boss’? I am also a bit sad. Sad that I lost respect for someone who I need to work with. 

 

When The Answer Is No

I want. Gimme. It’s not fair! I hate you!

I remember saying these things at one point in my life. I also remember the responses.

You can’t have. Not now. No, it isn’t. That’s okay. 

When we want something so badly sometimes our vision gets blurred and we see that ‘no’ as a roadblock to what we feel we deserve or need or just simply really want. 

Most parents will see the above and connect. Cranky (or spoiled) children who want more candy, or to stay up late, or beg for a million unnecessary reasons to get out of their beds at night will make mom and dad super annoyed. Parents have a certain amount of patience and when it runs out, watch out kids…that is the end of the world as you know it. 

What happens though when it’s the adults that are the ones asking or begging or declaring? 

I want. Gimme. It’s not fair! I hate you.

What happens when the answers are the same? What happens when G-d answers this way?

You can’t have. Not now. No, it isn’t. That’s okay. Will there be a time when He says, enough is enough? The answer sometimes is just, no. But those who believe in G-d know that He has compassion and even if we reject Him and feel hatred towards Him, He is forgiving, just like any decent parent as long as we show remorse.

I want to be financially stable. Gimme a chance at a job that can actually support my family. It’s not fair that I need to ask for help month to month.

I want good health. Gimme a sign that this will pass. It’s not fair that I must endure this pain. 

There are lots more examples. When frustration turns to bitter anger the downward spiral begins breeding hatred. 

No one likes to hear the answer no. Why must honest and good people be denied? Denied the opportunity to get a second interview? Denied health benefits or tax breaks? Denied a credit card? Denied a scholarship? Sometimes it seems the hurdles are so hard when they should feel easier. A hardworking individual must sometimes bear larger burdens than those that are born wealthy or healthy. 

Were misguided children, or those that were constantly indulged any better off than those that were constantly denied? No they, both breed a negative response.

There needs to be a healthy balance between receiving what we need and what we want. While its important to have goals and desires, we must also keep these in check. We must know there are limits and that sometimes there are things beyond one’s control that may determine what the end result becomes. Sure, the ‘don’t let anyone tell you your dreams are not attainable’ message is a good one. We set for ourselves time frames. When we don’t achieve the response we are looking for, in the time we allot for ourselves, we can get discouraged but need to have a good support system. Perhaps a friend or a colleague or a parent that whispers in our ear, ‘okay, that didn’t work – now let’s try something else’.

There is always a lesson to be learned. In everything. We may not like the process, in fact it may be painful and hard to understand or see the clarity until the dust settles and there is that light at the end of the tunnel…or someone wins the lottery… or gets the kidney. 

Not everyone believes in G-d. Not everyone is as deserving as they think. As upsetting as it is to hear or feel the answer ‘no, not yet’, we deal with it. Bang some tables, kick some doors, scream, cry, dwell…until we calm down. We reflect, we reorganize our thoughts, our actions, and begin again, differently. We are an ever evolving species and as smart as we get, the more we know, the harder it is for us to come to grips with the unknown.  It makes the negative reactions/responses/remarks that much harder to absorb and digest.

These are the times and the things that make us work harder, think better, and eventually succeed. Either getting the raise, winning the odds at the lottery, meeting the right doctor, asking please, being polite, waiting our turns, closing our eyes at bedtime, or just simply accepting that ‘no’ as another opportunity to work on ourselves, our behavior, our interactions with each other. Perhaps this is a time to accept that there is a higher power than ours and we must succumb to the fact that we don’t always have the answer because we are not meant to find out. 

I think it’s okay not to know everything about all things. I am curious and the older I get the more I want to know. But I also accept that I don’t deserve to know or to get everything I may want. Sometimes the things that we want so badly, a baby, a promotion, a cheese cracker, may not be good for us. Only after the fact do we most often have clarity. This is what makes it so hard. I often think, if I could just know what the end result would be whether it be for the good or the bad it would make the process of enduring it that much better.

I just reminded myself of the labor and birth of my first baby…the unknown was far worse. Not recognizing what a contraction would feel like or the amount of time it would be from beginning to end…of course these are all part of a very positive outcome, but the pain in between – that was awful. This is not meant to be a holy piece about G-d and Rebirth – or anything religious, it’s a piece on endurance and acceptance. Sometimes though we try to do things differently, the answer sometimes will still be, ‘no’. And that just needs to be okay. 

 

WHERE is the OTHER shoe?!?!

There is a conspiracy going on over here, I am sure of it.

The war with socks is – for a lack of a better word – inevitable. I mean, its maddening that pairs never end up in the same load. I am firmly convinced that they cling to the side of the machine and just wait there hiding and then drop after the fact so that we are left with the mystery and unfortunate SOCK BIN DRAMA or trauma – either way – that bin is overflowing and I’ve given up. Raised my fists to you socks! Your punishment is that you are abandoned all summer long, no one even looks your way. You deserve it you evil cotton necessities!

Now that that’s off my chest. There is a serious problem with shoes in my house. Or my kids, but I prefer to blame the shoe, like I blame the sock. My kids are of course, perfect angels, free from blame (insert fake cough here). I want to know where the other shoe is. How is it possible that only ONE shoe gets lost???

My children have been told many times, ad-infinitum, to PUT THEIR SHOES AWAY and not leave them in the downstairs bathroom, or the play room, or the stairs, or under the kitchen table, or on the stairs leading to the house!!! These shoes miraculously find their way to various spots, mocking me, and as frustrating as this is, of course I cannot blame the angels. Why would they purposely vex me to the point of mad lunacy? I am at the edge. The  lone shoe manages to taunt me 2 minutes before we are to leave the house. ALMOST EVERY DAY! 

I like this poster and am thinking of making one myself for a Lands End kiddie water shoe.

Last week I found one on the stairs at the entrance to our house. The tale I got was that it was banished because of jelly. (No one in my house eats jelly.) So today, as manic as it was to get everyone out on time, the child comes outside wearing only one shoe.

I asked this child, “Where is your other shoe”?

He responds angelically, “He’s hiding”.

I ask, “Where is he hiding”?

Child: “I forgot”

Mommy: “You forgot to put him in your closet”?

Child nods, really slowly with puppy dog eyes.

Mommy: (trying to keep cool, but totally not) “Everyone look for the shoe”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After grumbling and protesting and threats of treat-withholding the little people begin the search. 20 minutes later – still no shoe. Fingers to the temples I think hard: If I were a shoe and wanted to hide, where would I be?

I am seriously thinking this is where shoes go to when they want to hide. On the left. This is where I would go. A small place deeply hidden in the woods. A small cozy place where birds chirp and the leaves rustle.

I know better and this water shoe is probably sitting quite comfortably in one of the millions of toy bins or wedged between the bed and it’s frame. I looked online to search for other mothers who suffer this epidemic to seek guidance. Look what I found. How it got there I am sure that mom of triplets had no idea, my children’s beds have no metal springs under their mattresses, I need a plan B. I often find myself in this situation. We have lots of shoes, only none of them match each other, well not exactly. There may be some pink ones, some with flowers and some with rubber soles.

I’m thinking of instituting a policy that there will be a 5 minute search limit. If the children can’t find a matching pair in the span of 5 minutes they must wear the closest possible set. Period. Of course some may complain, no biggie, I cold-called for a summer, I have 2 weeks worth experience on how to respond. There is that one child of course that could care less.  It is important to teach our children a sense of responsibility. 

But let’s be honest. How many times have we misplaced our keys, our glasses, our wig (true story). These things happen because we get distracted, our brains shut down because the phone is ringing, and heaven forbid we miss that call. Immediate memory loss occurs when a child’s feet are sweaty and the TV or computer or Wii calls to them. I’ve seen it dozens of times. We all have what to work on. No one is perfect. The problem is probably me. I need to adapt to the fact that shoes will go where they want to go and only if they are so inclined will they find their way to the dark and scary closet.

However, I am not opposed to bribery. The sticker chart may have to come back, the rewards system may need to be put back in place. I may be willing to even pay and call it chores. I am also not above threats if all else fails. Why? BECAUSE I WANT TO FIND THAT SHOE!!!!! 

I Know You, But We’ve Never Met

 

Saturday Night! Time to PARTY!! Or in my reality based lame high-school life watch Saturday Night Live whilst living in America and here in Israel really means time to fill the dishwasher. I know, I’m a wild card…

It is a strange thing to have been at a party for someone you’ve never met. I mean it’s one thing to tag along with a friend and even though you feel like a third wheel or act like a wall flower there is the possibility that you might meet someone new, or at least eavesdrop into a really cool conversation.

Because I was super popular in high school, as mentioned before, I think I went to a total of 2 parties, not including the sweet 16’s. I mean real parties; no parents, music, dancing, people pulling off into private corners for who knows what…well I really had no clue ‘what’ at the time. Now that I think about it, one was a fairly tame graduation party where the parents were present and it was still daylight. However, that ONE party that I did go to included going in a car, driven by my friends, to a really fancy house, with cool colored lights bordering the driveway. The front yard had real landscaping, not mother’s day sprouts in a 6th grade homemade earthenware pot by the front door, but real palm trees and in the backyard a patio with a pool and lights that wreaked of wealth or a really good architect. Even though I knew mostly everyone there I was truly out of my comfort zone. The hostess and I were not close friends and I don’t even think we spoke more than a few times all throughout high school but the whole class was invited and my friends dragged me along.

This was not my only experience participating in someone’s get together where I really did not know the main person the party was being held for. When I was 18, I along with my other 4 shana bet (2nd yr studying in Israel) classmates were invited to our rebbe’s son’s bris, at a yeshiva, FULL of guys, and I probably do not need to express how uncomfortable we were. We stuck out like a vegetarian at a steakhouse (not that there is anything wrong with that). We must have spent hours with our curling irons, hair dryers, diffusers, bottles of mousse, gel, de-frizzer, lip gloss, what have you…and WE DID NOT EVEN KNOW ANYONE! (Besides the new dad). What’s even more weird – or not so much because it did happen to me – was that I was at this same little boy’s bar mitzvah 13 yrs later, after I made aliyah with my husband, and 3 children. I listened at both of these smachot (happy occasions) to others praise the little boy and all he was about to accomplish, how he was destined for greatness and how the contributions he was about to make to the Jewish world were magnanimous! No pressure, kid, good luck with all that!

In the last year I have had the privilege yet again to be at 2 gatherings for someone I never even met, but walked away truly knowing. There was a new neighbor, someone who created small amounts of fame by sharing her story with others and while I had heard of this women a few times she was new to my block and I was eager to meet her. We had happened to have met randomly in the supermarket and talked about banal things and shared a quick laugh. I had heard a short while later that her husband had died from an illness, leaving her alone with 3 children. In my amazing community we all banded together as we always do, pitching in during the good times and the bad. I decided to participate in the funeral. I cried and cried which may seem strange for I did not know this woman, I did not know this man, I did not know these children. But I am a friend, I am a wife and I am a mother. I cried for all these reasons. Her pain was tangible and as I listened to the loved ones talk about this wonderful man it became personal. So an unspoken connection began. I went to visit her that week and was greeted by one of her daughters outside the house who looked up at me, a complete stranger, and asked me simply, “are you here to see my mom?”, I responded yes obviously, and her response just blew me away. “That’s good, because she is really sad, and you have a nice face, you’ll make her feel better.” I entered the house and just sat. I don’t even think I spoke more than a sentence. I just listened. Listened to more stories about what a great father he was. What a great brother-in-law/husband/friend he was. I was connected and wanted to get to know them better.

I had a chance to host the children and mother once for a shabbos meal and my life was made richer for it. Tonight, one year later there was an azkara (memorial ceremony) for this gentleman. I cried and cried. It was personal. I listened to his mother-in-law speak about him (and generally these relationships aint the greatest) but she felt she had gained a son when he married her daughter. I cried along with her. Since tissues were kept close to the immediate family, I was so thankful when someone finally passed around the napkins. Those napkins, taken from the beautiful table decked with all sorts of delicious food and candles. The ambiance on the porch with a string of lights above and all our neighborhood friends seemed to be a gathering of festivities. The mother spoke to her children in their father’s words, praising them, encouraging them, sending love through their very wise and sensitive mother. With kindness she spoke and with humor. And I cried. Now, that’s no great surprise since I cry at almost EVERYTHING (even kleenex commercials). I connect easily. This was personal. I left as someone was playing a soulful song on a guitar wishing all those I passed a good week. I cried all the way home. It seemed like it took forever to make it up the hill. After a year there is supposed to be a sense of closure. I felt raw because though we had never met, I knew him, and it was painful.

I thought a while before putting my thoughts down. Why would I cry so much for someone I never actually met? This shabbos I heard a great rav speak about the power we have just by smiling at someone and greeting them. Even if you do not know the person, by taking but a few seconds to acknowledge another person’s existence, one has the ability to affect how that day will continue. I could have very easily never made a point to meet this new neighbor. No one would have chastised me if I had chosen not to attend the funeral. Our lives are busy and it would not have seemed unfriendly if I had never invited her family for a meal. But I took the time, and it was never a lot of actual time, a minute here, 30 there, 1-2 hours tops. Sometimes that smile or simple hello will help the other person, but I can guarantee it will always make you feel good. How many people will you have the ability to affect daily? How many will I? Challenge extended…