bubbe and zayde

September is coming to a close...the leaves are turning...and falling...but summer is in full bloom...little rain...abundant sun...and for me, after months of poetic drought...I find myself not just wanting to write, but needing to...I believe there are no greater writing prompts than joy and sorrow...and so it has been for my larger family these last weeks...cousins on the greater family tree of my beloved grandmother Bella, long gone...three funerals...and in between, the ultimate happiness in my daughter, Lauren's wedding...as I embraced family at all these events it got me thinking...about how family trees bloom, expand...and these days...disperse throughout our country...social media gives us the chance to reconnect...to see children we may never meet...to marvel at how diverse and large we have become...but there is nothing that can replace hugging someone you have not seen in years...double-digit years...looking into their eyes...at their faces...and recognizing a grin...or laugh...and knowing it is the same as their mother...or grandfather...the passage of time diminished...our children may not fully understand how their successes, both professional and personal, lift up older generations in times of sorrow...how that affirms that the tree will continue to bloom...I wondered while standing alongside my cousins on yet another cemetery last week..if the bubbe and the zayde, as they were affectionately called...my great-grandparents...did they realize when they struggled to come here what they planted...how it would grow...and be sustained through grief and loss...an everlasting tree tended to from generation to generation...and so I pause and thank them as we approach the New Year...L'Shanah Tovah Tikateivu...

waxing...poetic

giving up can be liberating...at least that's what I think the line was...at this age ask the four of us in that conversation what the line was and it would be like the movie "Rashomon"...we were talking about waxing, tweezing, hair dye and well...you get the drift...and as some of us cross the line to retirement...and others think about the prospect in a not too distant future...we, as women, were musing over the effort involved in keeping up...the minutia of appearance...who is it for?...and so the opening line...but, really, the deeper subtext is that ability to finally say...what the hell...screw it...I'll do what I want, when I want, if I want cause I've earned that...and more...lately I have found myself thinking so much about time...how it is squandered...then cherished...thinking about what I have learned, and how much there is still to learn...giving up can be liberating as a statement in and of itself sounds defeatist...but it is not...when you stop worrying about what you cannot control and focus on being present...in the moment...there is a freedom...ultimately it doesn't matter if you remembered to wax your eyebrows...or get your roots done in time...because if you are present for yourself...you are present for those you love...and those who love you and need you...and for that I say...amen...and pass the tweezers...

it's too darn hot

it's this summer's tune...after this country was put in a late spring twister blender...drowned in flood waters...now we bake...the temperature is hot hot hot...our political figures from highest office to lowest fan flames and tempers...it's only July 19th...so much more of summer...it's only July 2019...so much longer till November 2020...solutions?...none...suggestions...well, yes...turn off the news...put the cell phone face down...turn up the music...call a friend or two...then see that friend or two...which I did earlier this week...got me thinking about all the posts in my feed about friendship...about vacations with your girls...oh, yes...definitely not fake news...catching up with lifelong friends with a crisp glass of wine in hand...the sky crystal blue...water before us...well, your pulse slows...frown lines give way to laugh lines...oh, hell, we laughed...we listened...took pictures...had strangers take pictures...to remember...which I hope we all will...maybe a testimony that anger should be fleeting...joy may be elusive...but friendships like these...how they can lift you up...well, that's eternal...

shower to the people

sometimes I think that I would love to speak to orchestra conductors...because it would be fascinating to know what they hear as they wave the little baton through the air...do they hear the violins...the flutes...or is all of that drowned out by the voice in their heads urging them onward...such it seems to be with planning life events...Saturday was Lauren's shower...and much as it had been at her bat-mitzvah...the experience seems to be one where you are present and so happy...and then kind of out-of-body...the voice in your head whispering...is everyone here?...take a picture...try and mingle...omg, the cake...they need to serve the cake...take a picture with the cake...and then that subtle shift into slow motion...where you watch your child...not a child...a beautiful woman...smiling with joy...and then you smile...and realize that all the planning...the minutia...all for this moment...it is here and everyone is smiling...the sun is radiant...the only showers in this room are the good wishes and love from friends and family...all the instruments in blissful harmony...the conductor letting a smile escape while turning to the orchestra...and that my friends, is a rhapsody...and Gershwin would be proud...

the cane mutiny

the title of this blog was originally going to be 248499...that number would be belted out in full Les Miz style by Jean Valjean...Hugh Jackman for my movie people, Colm Wilkinson for my Broadway babies...the number was assigned to me two weeks ago when I checked into the Hospital for Special Surgery for routine left knee arthroscopy...the poor left knee that has seen this before and decided to act up with zest the last few months...when told of a new treatment where your own stem cells are injected during surgery I thought...well, maybe this will help...I pulled the trigger and scheduled quickly figuring with Lauren's September wedding fast approaching I would have time to be back and ready to party...now how does that expression go...people make plans and G-d laughs!...a few days after the surgery I noticed increasing pain in the left calf...I was already in PT and they worked on it...but for good measure they told me to watch it...and I knew what they were thinking...two days later my calf was bruising and swelling...and I was promptly sent for an ultrasound...and thankfully there was no DVT...but a substantial hematoma...by the end of the week by calf looked like it had gone for a few rounds with Rocky and Paulie in a meat locker...you know that pain chart scale...1-10...I was off the chart...that cane that I came home with was my best friend...I was in constant contact with my surgeon's physican's assistant...to this day I have not heard directly from the surgeon...anyone surprised?...this week there was another sonogram...a ruptured cyst at the back of the left knee drained...and then being told that the fluid in my calf was dispersed throughout the tissue...no pocket to drain...and so I am wearing a leg sleeve designed by Josef Mengele...compressing to get the swelling and bruising to dissipate...elevating the leg...watching May fade away and hoping for relief...glad that the dress I bought for the shower is nice and long!...time to get the ice bags out...again...and hope this is only one day more!

plagues and prose

it's National Poetry month...yea!...a whole month to read the beautiful works of poets long gone and some just cresting the literary surface...and to be reminded that I am not writing much these days...and not too pleased about it...and tonight Passover begins...and so, as I observe commuting, and life in general, these April days, there are new plagues upon us...and so I bring you the new 10 plagues...10) construction...in the subway stations...one day a staircase is there...one day you're walking into a wall...not metaphorically...alternating almost daily...just to keep you on your toes...9) rolling luggage...tourist season...I'm home from college season...the wheels never roll on a fucking piece of Samsonite season...all zig zagging in front of you while attempting to make the train season...8) pasty leg season...that first and only 70+ day of sunshine and your legs look like two loaves of moldy Wonder bread...you roast in jeans...7) Citi Bikes...and the people who use them...riding against traffic...through red lights...without helmets...in flip flops...what could go wrong? 6) going to that play or musical with anticipation...smile on your face...then...Times Square...ten million people...all looking up...not moving...and four thousand fondle-me Elmo's...after which you watch "The Deuce" and become wistfully nostalgic for the old scuzzy Times Square of days gone by...5) walking on Fifth and no longer seeing Lord & Taylor...dreaming of Christmas windows...then seeing so many empty store fronts in Manhattan...a shiver runs through you in the spring breeze...4) this one, specific to LIRR riders...third rail construction...parking lots closing...months of crap coming...oh, and some fare hikes...3) Lori Loughlin's smirk 2) urinetown...aka NYC...an endless stream of consciously ignoring quality of life by the powers that be...and 1) true story...#1 train uptown to Penn this week...holding onto a center pole...two men sitting and chatting in front of me...and then I hear it...not once...not twice...but at least three times with full butt lift...farts to end all farts...everyone sits motionless...but you look at each other...oh yeah...gotta love NY...it's a gas, gas, gas...

Schticks and stones...

I was watching a movie the other day...from the eighties...comedy...I probably knew more than half the dialogue...certainly all the punch lines...and as I watched I realized...quite sadly...that the same movie could never get past go these days...it would never be financed...never open in movies theaters nationwide...ah, political correctness...which when it crept into the corners of our society years ago was actually quite necessary...but now it has rendered us mute and frozen...we stop writing, afraid to offend...we become shrill...defensive...and humorless...were we always so insensitive...did our laughs come at the expense of others...uh, yes...if you did laugh did that make you a bigot...you probably would say of course not...but isn't everybody...even just a bit...laughing when we shouldn't because of unease of what we don't know or understand...can you laugh at yourself...at "your own people" as easily...I remember the old line that sometimes it is best if the joke you tell is only about yourself, or "your own people"...but are we only safe if we stay in our own lanes...where does that leave us in this rich melting pot that is our country...there is a scene in Spike Lee's insightful and incendiary "Do The Right Thing" where the characters...each a different racial or ethnic group...face the camera and hurl every slur they can at each other...kind of harsh and cathartic in bizarre fashion...I wonder sometimes...next time there is a national debate...let them all yell at each other...all that bile and distaste...get it out...pause...laugh at the absurdity...shake hands with meaning...and get the hell on with it...just thinking...