People who have gone
through a serious illness will often say that it turned their life around and
changed their view of the world. I do not know if I would go quite that far,
but what I do know is that I have more time on my hands than I did before the words
“primary central nervous system lymphoma” or “diffuse idiopathic pulmonary
neuroendocrine cell hyperplasia” had much meaning for me. To say I am making
good use of that time would, admittedly, be an overstatement. Still, even if I
cannot go quite that far, what I can say is that it has allowed me to pay
attention to things on which I had previously spent very little time or energy.
An argument could be
made that my timing was exquisite. I became less able to venture out and about
at a time when we humans can access and feel a part of the world from the
comfort of our own home offices. Further, I am seeing increasing numbers of people
in public places with various mobility devices; whatever shame with which that
may have in past times been associated has long since faded.
At the same time,
having all this time on my hands is starting to make me long for the good old
days in which I was barely aware of those folks sitting in those big white
buildings in Washington D.C. Even in the early 1970s, when many young people
were closely engaged in the actions of our government, I was relatively
oblivious. While Barry was something of a “Watergate junkie,” (the break in was
on his 21st birthday) I had at best a passing interest. So it has been with a mixture of surprise and
some amusement over these past few weeks when I have found myself wondering how
one becomes a delegate at a political convention.
Politicians always
say that “the stakes have never been higher.” I do not know if that is
precisely correct at this moment in history, but what I do know is that our
lives, the lives of our children and grandchildren, and the existence of the
planet may well depend on every decision being made over these next few months.
I hope the American people will be thinking about this as they prepare to cast
their ballots in November.
On a far more joyous
note, Simmie and Ronen were married fourteen years ago today. Every wedding has
its special moment, and for Simmie and Ronen it happened on the dance floor
when Ronen just swooped up his new bride and swung her around. Fortunately one
of the photographers managed to catch that moment: Rabbi Avi Weiss is beaming
behind Ronen, and Ronen’s grandfather (may he rest in peace) is sitting right
in front of Barry. There is no better example than this of a picture being
worth one thousand words. Mazal Tov Simmie and Ronen! May you have many more happy
and healthy years together with Eliana and Maya.
Love,
Rebecca
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