Archive | Uncategorized RSS feed for this section

While In Israel, I Have Been Crying For Aleppo

17 Dec

It is relatively peaceful where I have been the past two weeks. In Jerusalem I walked the old city at night.  Yes we stayed in the Jewish Quarter. But we walked and talked and saw children walking or riding their bicycles without fear. 

While in Jerusalem, we took a tour to Herodium, the final resting place – the tomb of Herod the Great, master builder and king who died in 4 BCE. It is in the Gush, the part of the West Bank close to Jerusalem. We lunched at a winery and traveled by car along the trail of the patriarchs passing gated communities enclosed by barbed wire. But it was quiet and seemingly peaceful.  We passed Palestinian communities and saw farmers working their lands. 

We saw the news and read about the soon to be evacuated community of Amona.  And how the settlers don’t want to leave, but the Israeli Supreme Court has ruled they must leave by December 25 this year. A double holiday. Hanukkah and Christmas. 

We stayed in Holon, a suburb of Tel Aviv for a week with our daughter and her husband. We visited with her in laws in Modi’in. From her home a tour guide took us around Tel Aviv and the old city of Jaffa. We visited the Peres Center for Peace, to hear about programs to bring people together. 

 In both Jerusalem and Jaffa, I was amazed to see the new and innovated ways that both Moslem and orthodox Jewish women were now using scarves to cover their hair. Slightly different ways, but in many ways the same.  They pass each other peacefully in the streets and shopping centers. In Mamilla, a outdoor shopping center near Jaffa Gate, they mingled together in a colorful picture of head coverings from my view in a second story restaurant. 

We traveled north to Ceaseria, the port city built by Herod. So much of it still buried beneath the sand, but amazing with its Herodian, Byzantine and crusader ruins. It is a must see! Then another winery in Zichron Yaacov, a Jewish city that sits across on a hill side from an Arab village, near Haifa where Jews and Moslems both live and attend the Technion University. 

And all the while Aleppo burns. And children, women and men perish in the fires of another genocide. And the UN is useless. Still condemning Israel, but staying silent on the true terror of the region: Syria.  I cry for the children of Aleppo. I cry for all children who sees destruction and feel the fear of war. 

The children of Gaza suffer. But each day 39-40 trucks of cement enter the Gaza from Israel to help rebuild. Where is the cement going?  I can’t answer that.  But Gaza could be rebuilt if its leaders turned away from violence and settled for peace. While in Aleppo, there is no choice. The government and the Russian military has decided for them. 

In Israel, the Peres Center has a program, Saving Children, to bring Palestinian children from Gaza and the West Bank into Israel for urgent and complicated medical issues. Each year about 1000 children are cared for in Israel. Another program brings doctors from the West Bank into Israel for their residencies and fellowships to learn and bring back to their homes. In Aleppo the Air Force targeted hospitals and killed the most needy. Destroying the places of healing and hope. 

I had hoped the world had changed in 80 years. But it seems not.  So while in Israel, I have been saddened and cried for the destruction of Aleppo and Syria. For years I have wondered how the world leaders could do nothing. I will head home to the US today, but those who survive Aleppo will not have that opportunity.  Power breeds contempt. An entire country destroyed. While in Israel I have been crying for Aleppo and all of Syria. 

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

New York City Excitement With My Grandma

29 Nov

Whenever I watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, known in my mind as the Macy’s Day Parade, I always think of my Grandma Esther. The first time I went to Radio City Music Hall was with my siblings and my Grandma to see “That Darn Cat” and the Rockettes for the annual Christmas extravaganza. It did not matter that we were Jewish. What was important was seeing the show.

I remember that the line went around the block, but we had tickets. On the main floor! I still remember the first time I saw the Grand Staircase. I remember the thrill of sitting in those seats. I have never forgotten the movie that starred Hayley Mills, or the moment the Rockettes came on to the stage.

The parade brings back this wonderful memory, as well as others that Grandma arranged. I remember the year she arranged for us to watch the parade from her office. Grandma was the executive secretary for a shoe company that had their office opposite Macy’s! Yes right opposite the main store. One year we had the opportunity to watch the parade and all the shows from the company’s warm office and excellent viewing site. I still get chills thinking about how excited I was to be there. This was so much nicer than standing outside in the cold.

Grandma, worked until she was 77, treated me to special dates in the city . They must have been birthday celebrations. I loved going to Horn and Hardart. The Automat’s vast choices of cakes and foods were amazing. Grandma would let me get her food and my food. It was fun opening the doors and removing exactly what we wanted. Such joy!

My favorite date, to be honest, was to Schraftt’s Ice Cream Palour on Fifth Avenue. I remember wearing my dirndl dress and white gloves…to go eat ice cream!!! I had a chocolate sundae, of course. The gloves came off when it was time to eat. I still see the beauty of the restaurant. And I still can remember leaving with Grandma, and skipping as we left. I was so excited.

I know it was in the spring because after ice cream we went to the Barton’s store to purchase lots of candy and treats for Grandma’s annual Passover seder. I see, in my mind’s eye, the boxes of Barton’s Almond Kisses, chocolate covered matzah and other sweets.   I remember that we each had two shopping bags to carry.

Then it was back to her office. I would sit and wait for my Dad to come and get me after work. Grandma would give me some busy work to do while I waiting. And I did get to speak to the president, Mr. Pearlstein. But I knew I had to be quiet while Grandma was working.

It is not surprising that to this day I love watching the Macy’s Parade each Thanksgiving. Even though I now live in the Midwest, on Thanksgiving morning I get a cup of coffee and sit contently for three hours watching as the parade marches on and my memories linger.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

In Other Election News … Cannabis

10 Nov

As we all consider the ramifications of a Trump presidency, another important decision was being decided. Three states approved marijuana for recreational use: California, Massachusetts and Nevada. And three others approved the use of medical marijuana: Arkansas, Florida, and North Dakota.

There are now 28 states and the District of Columbia that have legalized medical marijuana!

The world is changing!

I could say that the country needs to be stoned to get through the next four years. But I think that is a bit of gallows humor. So I will stay on topic: Pot.

There is even a large ‘cannabis’ industry. A young man I have known since he is four recently finished his law degree.   He found a job immediately in a Chicago firm. I asked him what was his specialty, as he focused on business law. His reply, “Cannabis law.” I laughed.

I laughed even more when I spoke to his Mom.   She was abashed. But happy he was doing so well. It seems that there is a lot of legal matters in the cannabis industry. I am sure he will be employed in his chosen field for many years! What a great job choice.

Last year my husband and I saw the change in marijuana laws in action. While in Seattle we went on a walk to find a medical marijuana store. My husband is a physician, and he had many questions about medical marijuana. The employees at the store were really helpful and informative. They answered all his questions, and even let him peak into the inner sanctum….where all the marijuana was bundled and waiting to be used. It was just a peak, but I will tell you…there was a lot of marijuana there!

They were dealing with some major issues in Washington due to Senate Bill 5052 which went into effect on July 2016. This bill tries to integrate recreational and the medical marijuana system. The people we spoke to, in June 2016, complained bitterly on how the price of weed would increase dramatically for all. And those using it medically would have to pay much more once it all became recreational. Also people who used marijuana medically would have to register, while recreational user would not.

I am not sure what is happening now, four months later. But with tide against legal restrictions across the country, I am really not worrying about Washington’s pot users.

Weed, dope, pot, marijuana, cannabis: it is a big money business! However, because there are federal restrictions on the sale of marijuana, it is still a business with many legal issues. I think as the states keep making it legal, the federal government will change as well.

I must say, with all the unrest in the world and in the United States, with the hatred and bigotry that was stirred up, I find it somewhat unsettling that the same people who voted for a conservative view of the world, also voted yes on legalization of cannabis issues.

I could come up with my own conspiracy theory. But I will leave it at this. Soon marijuana will be legal throughout the USA. I only hope that women’s rights, LBGT rights, religious rights and other anti-discrimination rights also stay legal.   Citizens are fighting for the right to get stoned. I hope we all continue to fight for the rights of all citizens to live in a free world that respects their rights as well.

 

Tags: , , , , ,

I Wonder About November 9, 2016: 78 Years after Kristallnacht

30 Oct

I wonder.

I wonder if there is some cosmic meaning to the date of this year’s election in the USA. November 8, 2016, is one day before the 78th anniversary of Kristallnacht, the night of broken glass when Nazis in Germany burned synagogues and destroyed the businesses owned by Jewish families. The Nazis killed, burned, destroyed and vandalized.

I wonder if Kristallnacht would be re-enacted or reinvented in the USA as the Republican nominee has stirred up the bottom of the pond and brought forth, not a new nation, but a new uprising of hatred against the other.

I wonder what will happen on November 9, 2016?

I wonder what the Jews in Germany felt as citizens of a country where the people turned against them. It scares me as I see the citizens of the USA and the European Union turn against Jews through out the world. And I see, here, in the one country where Jews have always felt a feeling of saftely, an uprising of hatred.

I wonder about the famous poem by Pastor Martin Niemoller:

“First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.”

I wonder what he would be thinking now if he still lived.

But it is not just for the Jews that I fear for in this somewhat uncertain world. I fear for all those considered the Other determined by Race or Religion or Nationality.

I wonder if the USA will ever be the same after this nasty, tasteless, hate-filled election.

I wonder, I hope and I pray that when it is over on November 9, 2016, the 78th anniversary of Kristallnacht, that we will have learned from the past.

I wonder, I hope and I pray that peace will return. And the hatred that was stirred up can somehow be mitigated and returned the the bottom of the pond. Never to be disturbed again.

 

Tags: , ,

The Rosh Hashannah Card Has A Story

1 Oct

szenk-1936-shana-tova

In 1936 my Grandma Thelma’s siblings sent her a Rosh Hashannah card from Poland. On the front is a photo of her siblings. Seated are her brother Isaac and his wife, Bronia. Standing are her youngest siblings David and Esther. Soon after this photo was taken the world really began to change.

This photo looks so peaceful and calm. But so much was going on behind the scenes. Plans were already being made. Getting out of Poland was their main goal.

My Grandmother worked diligently to get her family out of Europe. She and my grandfather owned a bakery and had two young children. Grandma had taken her children to Europe in 1931 and since her return had been searching for ways to rescue her family and my grandfather’s family. It was very difficult.

Eventually, she got documentation to bring my great grandfather Abraham (her mother had died young) and her younger sister, Esther, to the United States. Esther was older than 21, but she was very tiny. So they made her younger. And thus she was able to come with her father.

The age difference was a bone of contention for years. My Tante always stating her ‘fake’ age, my grandmother always correcting her. It was made worse by the fact that my Grandmother had traveled by herself to the USA in 1922, when she was only 16. To get the papers she needed, she made herself two years older! The war over their ages went on for years.

It was great until Tante wanted to retire. Truly she was 65, but legally she was 62. I remember this as my Grandmother and Tante would argue about this as well.   Like sisters, with love, they found many things to argue about.

Front Great grandpa USA Visa

In any case two were saved. I have my Great Grandfather’s passport and visa. In the passport it states that he has to leave Poland within a certain time or the visa is invalid. Luckily my grandparents also sent money. Saving family was utmost in my grandparents’ mind.

But my Grandmother was unable to rescue her brothers and bring them to the USA.   They decided that they had to leave Poland: Uncle Isaac and his wife, Bronia, along with David and Bronia’s sister, Rosa. The Rabbi said that David and Rosa must marry before they left Poland. So a quick wedding was held.

They escaped Poland to Russia. Not as great, but they were tailors…or they became tailors. And so, my grandmother would say, they were employed to make army uniforms for the Russian army.

Their lives were not easy. They suffered. But they survived. Many were not as fortunate.

After the war they wanted to leave Europe. They were in Italy and the Facists were on the rise. They were afraid. They wrote to their sisters in the United States, and to Bronia and Rosa’s sisters in Australia. They decided whoever sent documents first , they would go to that country. They just wanted out of Europe as quickly as possible.

Once again they were among the fortunate ones with sisters on two continents working to save their siblings. The sisters in Australia got documents first. My great aunts and uncles moved to Australia. There my cousin was born. There my Uncle David passed away when in was in his 30s. He is buried in Melbourne.

When my cousin was a child, they decided to move to Israel. My Great Uncle and his wife; his sister in-law, and niece. My cousin and her family still live in Israel. My grandparents, great aunts and uncles have all passed away. But when I look at this Rosh Hashannah card, I see hope. I wish everyone a blessed, happy, healthy and sweet new year.

 

 

 

To read more about the family:

https://zicharonot.wordpress.com/2014/04/28/speaking-yiddish-always-brings-me-holocaust-memories/

https://zicharonot.wordpress.com/2015/11/03/who-are-you-these-photos-call-out-to-me/

 

https://zicharonot.wordpress.com/2014/05/29/grandma-thelma-knows-what-she-knows/

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Waiting impatiently for Gilmore Girls

30 Sep


Two months to go and I can barely contain my excitement. I am one of the multitude of “Gilmore Girl” fans waiting to see the four episodes on Netflex that will update us on Lorelai and Rory.

When I think of “Gilmore Girls” I feel such joy. My daughter and I watched every episode together, even when she was at college.  It was our weekly mother/daughter event throughout her high school years.  It debuted during her freshman year of high school and ending during her junior of college.

We would talk about what happened and analyze every action and reaction. The relationships between mother and daughter; grandparents and mother; boyfriends; friends,   Each  gave us a starting point for intense communications. “Gilmore Girls”  was a great parenting tool.  It gave us a starting point and a comfortable way to ease into conversations. She was going through many of the same life cycle events as Rory: high School, dating, applying to college; going to college.  It was amazing.

While she was at college, we would watch the episodes separately, but then talk about them afterwards.  I would often save the episodes on our TiVo. Then we would watch them together, even though we had already seen them when they were first broadcasted.

When the show ended we were bereft. I purchased the seven season dvd set for my daughter.  Occasionally we would watch a few episodes.  But we never forgot about the Gilmores or their town or their friends.

My son wanted to have a show to watch with me like I watched with my daughter.  We thought we found that show in “Chuck.”  It was great for one season, but then the writers’ strike prematurely ended the second season. We never got back into it.  We tried. But “Chuck,” was no “Gilmore Girls.”

Luckily, years later, ‘The Big Bang Theory’ arrived on television. I finally had a show to watch with my son. Of course he no longer lives with us, but we still discuss it now and then.

A friend of mine, who only has sons, had never heard of the “Gilmore Girls.”  When she was ill,  I gave her my seven season set for her to watch and enjoy.  I would go to her house, and while she rested from her treatments, we would put on an episode.  I am sorry to say we never got past the first season before she became too ill.  But the few episodes she did watch entertained her. Neither of us could understand how she had never heard of this great show.

The intelligence of the show, the love and loyalty, the quick conversations all came together in the perfect combination.  It was a wonderful family show.  The only show I could compare it to was “Little House on the Prairie.”  Also a family show, but a fictionalized account of a real family, Little House entertained me for years.  I loved that show almost as much as watching the Gilmores.  As an adult, I journeyed to Mansfield, Missouri, to visit the Wilder home and see the family’s artifacts.

But I will admit, that even Little House can not compare to my intense appreciation for all things Gilmore.  Best show ever.

Now we have four more episodes to watch.  The teasers are making me crazy with excitement.  I have seen some of the original cast talk about the new episodes on talk shows, and the excitement builds.  I even purchased a magazine to read about the plans. Oy, a bit obsessed.

Even though my daughter is married and lives halfway around the Earth, we will be discussing the Gilmore girls when they return to enrich our lives.  I only hope these episodes can meet my outrageous expectations.

Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Missing My Friend

14 Sep

Now that my daughter’s wedding is over. I have time to reflect on the other major event in my life.

Women have several best friends. I do not have just one best friend, I have several: different women who give me support, love, a sounding board, comfort, friendship, and family. I am fortunate to have many best friends: the women who have gone through life’s joys and challenges and have always been there for me, just as I have been there for them.

Right before my daughter’s wedding I lost one of my best friends to cancer. It broke my heart.  Every time someone we love dies, it takes a little slice of the heart. I have survived the deaths of my grandparents, parents, cousins, aunts and uncles and even some friends. But this loss just breaks my heart.

My daughter said, “Mom I know you are so sad, but this is my wedding. Please focus on me and how happy I am.” So I had to push away my tears and focus on the joy of my daughter and future son-in-law. I needed to stop grieving and join the celebration.

The Friday before the wedding…two days before, my husband and I went to the funeral. How could I not go and say goodbye. I sat with another close friend. I held her hand and my husband’s hand as the funeral service progressed. Just as I was thinking ,“How will I get through the wedding.”   My friend turned to me and said, “What would she want? How would she act?” We both knew that she would want me to be so joyful at my daughter’s wedding.

We did not go to the cemetery. My husband and my friends insisted that I go home and get into wedding mode. I asked my close friend to shovel dirt for me. Even though I could not be there, I wanted to complete the act.

As we left the funeral, my friend’s husband rolled down the window of the limo to reach out to me. We spoke. I hugged him. Any other time in my life, I would have been there for him and their sons.

Another of my best friends called. She was preparing a shiva meal. And would put my name on it. There was no way I could go to any of the shiva services. I had the rehearsal dinner, the wedding and company throughout the holiday weekend. I felt the love of my friends to help me get through this bittersweet time.

My friend fought a battle with cancer. She was always gracious and strong. She was the kindest person. Everything was delightful in her world. I would ask, ‘Do you want to go for lunch?’ Her answer, “that would be delightful.” We would go out with her and her husband. Any thing I suggested would be delightful. When she chose the show or the restaurant, I in turn would say, “That would be delightful.” Delightful became one of my favorite words to use. It is so uplifting, just as she was to everyone.

It was not an act. She saw the world as a happy place. And her oh so happy attitude transformed people. She got things done. There was never a need for accolades and attention. If something needed to be done, she did it. Write a grant, organize lists of names, write letters, be there for a friend. Even when she was sick, she never stopped helping others.

Over the last year or so, she could not travel. Whenever I went out of town, she told me to send her photos. I sent many text messages with photos from throughout the country, Alaska, Canada, Seattle, New York, New Jersey, even the world: India, Israel, Italy, Spain. Wherever I went, she went with me.   I sent the most beautiful photo I took each day. She would respond with little messages telling me about her treatments and how things were going.

When I returned from a trip expecting to go and see her, she sent me a message.   She was going back into the hospital. “I just realized I never sent a welcome home,” she wrote. “The docs have decided to put me in the hospital… Sorry for the bad news. I am going this evening….”

So like her. Sorry for the bad news. She always thought about the ones who loved her. She knew it would hurt me that she was not progressing as well as we hoped. I visited her in the hospital. I visited her almost every week. I did what I could, as did her other friends.

But nothing really prepared me.

She called me three weeks before she died. She wanted me to come over with soup from our favorite deli. She was home alone. We spoke for two hours. It was our last visit. I cleaned the kitchen. I hugged her. I basically begged her to live to come to my daughter’s wedding. I knew it would not happen. But the thought of losing her was so very difficult.

I did not go back to see her. We continued to text back and forth for the next two weeks. I sent photos and long messages. She sent one or two words. Our last words, I said, “Love you.” She responded, “You too.” And that was the end. I kept sending messages even though I knew she would not/could not respond.

And now the wedding is over. My daughter and her husband have left town. Now I can grieve for my wonderful, delightful, kind, nice, bright friend. Only now can I open the box I kept in my heart during the wedding and cry.

Only now can I think about how much I will be missing my friend.

Tags: , , ,

The Kauneonga Lake Temple BethEl Recipe Book

12 Aug

I found a treat today. I decided to clean out my cookbooks. My daughter is getting married in a few weeks, and I am in a nesting mode. Sort like when I was pregnant. Now I am cleaning out my house and getting ready for hordes of guests.

I decided to clean out my cookbooks. There are many I have not used in years. I offered some to my daughter, but she informed me that she gets her recipes off the Internet. Fine. She does not want my cookbooks! I will give them to someone who wants them. And will appreciate them. But there are a few I will keep!

I like cookbooks, especially because some have much meaning and memories. I have my mother’s Settlement Cookbook. Probably the best cookbook ever made.   I have kosher cookbooks, healthy cookbooks, vegetarian cookbooks, light meal cookbooks, as well as a variety of cookbooks put together as fundraisers by various charitable organizations.

image

It was in the midst of these spiral notebook style cookbooks that I discovered a tiny treasure, “Cooking Favorites of Bethel,” put together by the Sisterhood of Temple Bethel, Bethel, New York. This is the congregation I belonged to throughout my childhood when we spent our summers and High Holidays in the Catskills. My grandparents lived in Kauneonga Lake throughout the year and davened at this small shul. I rejoined many years later as an adult to help support it.

I know this book is at least 35 years old, because my grandmother died in 1981. But it has to be older, based on the names of some of the women who contributed recipes. They passed away before my Grandma Thelma, like Clara Wagner. I close my eyes and I see Clara. She was Grandma’s best friend.   They spent many hours sitting and visiting. My Grandma was heartbroken when she passed away.

Then there is Nan Dasher, besides cooking, she would embroider tablecloths. Which she did constantly. I have two tablecloths she made. One specifically for me when I married, and one I took from my mother’s stash after Mom passed away. Nan lived in the White Lake Estates, not far from my grandparents.

So many other names of women I knew when I was a child submitted recipes: Lenore Liff, Yetta Gruber, Mrs. Elfenbaum, Goldie Lerner, Rebecca Rosenberg and more.

But the most exciting and enjoyable for me was finding my grandmother’s name in the book. Thelma Amsterdam contributed four recipes. HA! These recipes are a sort of lie! Grandma did not cook. Okay she cooked but not very well.

I still remember the trauma over this cookbook. Grandma had to submit recipes. She was an important member of the Sisterhood and needed to show she cared. I remember her coming to my Mom to get recipes. There they were sitting in the kitchen and writing down recipes that Mom gave her. The recipes that have my Grandma’s name, every one of them is from my mother. There is my Mom’s simple baked macaroni recipe. I still make it!!!! Even though I cannot eat dairy I have made it for Yom Kippur break the fast, and for shivas. It was so easy! However, Grandma NEVER made this meal.

 

recipe

So when I saw the four recipes she submitted I was filled with the laughter of remembering Mom giving her the recipes. I was filled with memories of my Grandma’s horrible cooking, although she could make the best mushroom barley soup and Pesach noodles. And I remember this book being put together and then published.

I should also tell you that this book is in perfect condition. I don’t think my Grandma ever opened it after she purchase in the effort to support the congregation and its sisterhood.

I honestly do not know when I got it. But I have a vague memory of Grandma giving it to me when I got married. Okay, I never used it either. It is so small it got hidden among my other cookbooks.

I am glad in a way, because now I have this tiny memory in such pristine condition. With it are many memories of Kauneonga Lake and going to shul!

Tags: , , , , ,

Forks in the Flower Pots; Or Why I Keep Plants By My Kitchen Sink

10 Aug
image

My kitchen window with my grandmother’s planter is the green one in the middle.

Above my grandparents’ kitchen sink in West New York, New Jersey were a variety of flower pots filled with plants.  But often interspersed among the plants were utensils.  Usually forks, but sometimes knives and spoons.

image

I own one of my Grandparents’ goupls.

When I was very young I remember thinking that my Grandma was special as she could grow metal in her pots. I especially wanted her to grow more of the special forks we called goupls, that we used in her home.  They had really thick and interesting handles. I thought goupl was a special name for this fork. We did not call the other forks, goupls, just these forks.  I found out when I was older that goupl is Yiddish for fork.

Usually standing upright, prongs in the dirt, were two or three forks each day. Amidst the plants the glow of silver.  Why?  My grandparents kept kosher. Meat and dairy is kept separate. My grandparents had utensils for milk meals and another set for meat meals. If they touched when they were wet, they had to be rekashered….made clean to use again.  One way, according to my Grandma,  is to bury it for 24 hours.  Grandma buried it by sticking the unclean item in a flower pot.

In reality, I think this was my grandmother’s interpretation of ne’itzah, a type of koshering for knives when you push them in dirt several times. Grandma just kept any utensil buried and unused.

My mother also kept plants in her kitchen at our hoe in North Bergen. But she did not keep kosher so there were never forks in the flowerpots. However having the plants was important to both my parents.  My Dad was always potting and repotting plants.  Plants freshen the air of your house according to my Dad. So besides helping to keep kosher, plants keep you healthy!

When I married, my husband and I decided to keep a kosher home. When we purchased our house a big draw for me was the window ledge above the sink.  A wonderful place for plants. But to be honest, I very rarely have put a fork or spoon or knife in a flower pot. However, they are there in case I need them.

image

My mother-in-law’s aloe plant.

Besides my kitchen sink plants, I have other plants including an aloe plant that is over 50 years old.  I have had it for 31 years. But before that it was my mother-in-law’s kitchen aloe plant.  I inherited when she passed away at only 59.  Aloe plants are important in the kitchen. My parents also had one.  If you burn yourself, you can quickly go to you aloe plant and break off a piece of a leaf. The thick goo is a healing source for burns.

Plants in my kitchen remind me of my grandparents, parents and in-laws.  Although I might not have forks in my flowerpots, I do have one of my grandmother’s flowerpots on my sink window.  My daughter is getting married in a month.  She has a window above her kitchen sink.  I plan to buy her a plant as a housewarming gift so she too can have flower pots in her kitchen.

Tags: , , , , , ,

A Chair, A Baby Grand Piano and Yiddish Songs

2 Aug

image

As the oldest granddaughter, my grandmother made it clear that I would inherit my grandparents’ cherry mahogany bedroom set. The most important pieces of furniture that came with it were my grandmother’s vanity and the small chair that goes with it.

The swivel chair is covered in a gold silk fabric. It is now a bit tattered, but I will not change it. In this chair my grandmother held me at night and sang Yiddish songs to me before I went to sleep.

She usually sang “Oif’n Pripetshik,” a song about children learning in their alef beiss, the alphabet. Even now, over 50 years later, listening to this song calms me. I feel my grandma’s arms around me; I smelled her scent; I feel the softness of her hair and her breath in my ear as she sings and slowly spins in the chair.

If one song did not get me ready to sleep, she would start singing, “Rozhinke Mit Mandlen.” I tried to stay awake so she would have to sing me both songs before I got into bed. When I was very young I slept with my grandmother.   I loved being with her in the winter under the big feather bed! I still have the one pillow left that was made from that giant duvet over 50 years ago. (See link to blog below.)

My grandparents kept the traditions they grew up with in Europe: Two twin beds, always. Grandpa would get up very early in the morning to go to their bakery and make the fresh bread and pastries.  Their apartment was on the top floor of the building that housed their bakery in West New York, New Jersey, right on Palisades Avenue.

Grandma would stay in bed with me a bit longer. Before she left she always whispered, “Remember, when you get up, get dressed and come down to the bakery.” Then a soft “Geh shluffen.” And she would be gone as well.

My grandfather also sang to us in Yiddish. He had a beautiful voice. Among his favorites to sing were “Tumbalalaika,” “Eli, Eli,” “Die Greene Koseene,” “Belz, Mine Shetele,” and “Wus Geven is Geven Un Nitu.”

Sometimes we would sit with him and sing together. Other times we would just listen. Occasionally, at a synagogue dinner in the Catskills, he would sing his Yiddish songs for the congregation. I remember once for my parent’s anniversary he sang several songs. But my Mom got very upset when he say, “Wus Geven is Geven un Nitu.”  I honestly do not think he meant to hurt her feelings.  He just loved to sing that song.

My grandparents had a beautiful carved walnut baby grand piano. The keys made of ebony and ivory. It was my Mom’s piano. She studied as a special student at Julliard when she was in high school. And even though she loved to play the piano, she went to college to learn to be a teacher instead of continuing at Julliard.   My grandparents felt teaching was a much better professional for a young woman in 1947.

I also learned music on this piano: years of lessons. I was never as good as my mother. But I did learn to love it. My teacher was kind. He let me chose the songs I wanted to learn. It was obvious that I would never be a concert pianist.

When I married, the piano and the bedroom set moved to my home. When I was pregnant with my daughter I would play the piano every day. I often played from a book of Yiddish music: “Jewish Nostalgia For Piano/Guitar/Organ/Accordian” published by the J & J Kammen Music Co. Sometimes I could feel my daughter kick within me as I played her favorite songs.

I know that she heard the music! After she was born, when she was fussy, I would bring her into the music room and play “Oif’n Pripetshik” for her. Within minutes she would be calm listening to the music.

My grandfather, Papa, lived until she was 3 ½.   He would sing to her in Yiddish as well. She does not remember much about him. But he would hold her close to his face while he sang.   What she remembers is that “Papa had a scratchy face.” He did not shave as often when he was in his late 80s.

When she was old enough, my daughter also took her first piano lessons on our family’s baby grand piano. Like me, she was not meant to be a concert pianist. But we both learned to love and read music while learning to play piano. I would often play music for my children when they were little. I often would play the Yiddish music of my childhood.

Over the years, many people have come to visit and would play the piano.   One childhood friend came to visit several years ago.   She asked what happened to my Mom’s piano.   I took her into my living room to see it.  She cried as she stood in front of it.  There was so much love invested in my piano.

I am so fortunate.  I have a chair to sit in to remember when my grandmother sang to me; a piano to play the music that my grandparents taught me.  I have the  Yiddish songs that I continue to hear in my mind and sometimes still play on my piano. Amazing memories and sounds of Yiddish songs from just looking at a chair and a piano.

 

https://zicharonot.wordpress.com/2014/06/08/why-i-love-my-pillow/

 

Tags: , ,

← Older Entries
Newer Entries →