A much-needed rest

Lest I needed reminding, I am not as young as I used to be. Even without the respiratory and cognitive limitations, doing all the things I could do years ago would likely be challenging now. It should certainly not surprise me that I am in need of some down time after the past two weeks of fun with children who are two generations younger than I. How it is that other grandparents do all these activities and you never hear about the sheer exhaustion of it?

[This is the point at which many of you will send me wonderful notes reassuring me that it is not unusual to find two weeks of meeting the food and entertainment needs of school-aged children to be exhausting for a 60-something grandmother. The difference between other grandparents and me is that I write this blog and share this stuff, while they are intelligent enough to keep it to themselves.]

Not only am I growing older (which is not really so bad when you consider the alternative), but my coordination is not what it used to be. I am not sure how much of this is can be attributed to aging, how much to peripheral neuropathy, or how much to an inability to focus sufficiently. All I do know is that I drop things more often than I used to. Usually the items are not valuable. I have broken a number of inexpensive drinking glasses, and the other day I dropped a small container with leftover stuffed shells in marinara sauce (the splatter made this especially messy). But last week I dropped our small Canon PowerShot camera, the one I keep in my purse and have used to take the vast majority of the pictures I have posted here. The piece that juts out and holds the lens was bent so that it could not retract. I figured I had nothing much to lose to I knocked it on the desk to straighten it out. It closed but all the pictures I have taken since then have been rather poor quality, so I know something is wrong. It is not a new camera and we do have our larger Nikon as well as cell phones. To be honest, my cell phone (as well as Barry’s iPhone) takes better pictures than the old Canon ever did, but I have had a hard time getting used to using it for that purpose. I suppose the time has come for me to hop on board that train.

With no children this week, the house seems so quiet! And speaking of cameras, I hope to spend some time weeding through the pictures we took and design photobooks for each grandchild’s week in New York. That project will be a much-needed respite from all the painful news in the world beyond the Bronx. In these difficult times, it is helpful to find reasons to smile and to remind ourselves that we humans can still love one another.

Have a good week.

Love,

Rebecca

Such a sweetheart

We have our granddaughter Gabriella (Ella) with us this week, and I must share some vignettes.

The other day, while Barry was at his office, Ella and I got together with a friend whose granddaughter is also visiting. The two girls had never met, and I could tell that Ella was somewhat nervous about meeting a new friend in such unusual circumstances. But once Tova arrived, the girls quickly bonded and ran off to play. By the end of the day they had already made plans to get together again, and Ella is over at our friends’ house as I write this.

We made our second trip to Legoland, Ella’s first time there. She especially enjoyed the flying bicycles ride. The seating is in pairs of two: Barry went with her for the first ride and we returned later for a second ride on which I joined her. She wanted to go a third time before we left and Barry got on the ride with her. But while they were waiting to be strapped into their seats, a bunch of children from one of the many camp groups who were visiting took seats. They were all paired up except for one girl who was left behind. She saw Ella and came over and asked if she would ride with her. Ella apologized to her grandfather and asked if he would mind allowing her to ride instead with this other girl.

We took Ella to see “Aladdin” on Broadway. As I mentioned last week, Barry and I seldom see Broadway productions. We enjoyed Aladdin every bit as much as “Lion King,” and were particularly impressed with James Monroe Iglehart, who plays the Genie. Ella enjoyed her first Broadway show, although we perhaps forget how exhausting all the excitement can be for both little girls and grownups!

Ella will be joined tomorrow by her folks and baby sister on their way up to visit Joshua at camp on Sunday. Since this is his first time away at camp, we wanted to leave this visit to his parents and his sister. We will see him in a couple of weeks, the weekend after he comes home.

Next week is a quiet one, time to rest up before Maya’s week.

Have a great weekend!

Love,

Rebecca 

The wise words of "Alice the Cook"

On Sabbath afternoon, as we often do during these long summer Sabbaths, Barry was reading to me from last Sunday’s New York Times magazine. One of the columns we often enjoy is called The Ethicist. This column has had numerous authors over the years; the current author is Chuck Klosterman. Here is an item from last week’s column:

NO CHILD LEFT BEHIND

I firmly believe that future generations will face catastrophic suffering because of climate change, and that human population is beginning to exceed global society’s ability to provide. My two sons are at the ages when they’re likely to consider fatherhood. Feeling as strongly as I do that the future will become intolerably challenging, and not wanting unborn generations to suffer, I wonder if it is ethical for me to discourage my children from creating offspring? K.M., HOLDEN, MASS.

“Ethical” seems like the wrong word here. I mean, would it be ethical (or unethical) for you to urge your sons to procreate if you thought life was beautiful and you desired grandchildren? I don’t think voicing your opinion falls anywhere on the ethical continuum, regardless of how extreme that opinion may be. I would suggest you do this: Casually explain your existential fears to your sons. Ask them if they’ve seriously considered the consequences of bringing new humans into a flawed world, while conceding that your personal view on this subject is (and should be) essentially irrelevant to whatever they ultimately decide to do.

Before we got past the first sentence, we started laughing, because this reminded us of an old episode of the television show, “All in the Family” that originally aired in September 1975, nearly 40 years ago. We have seen it many times over the years and the end is always touching. If you do not have time to watch the entire episode, you can fast forward and just watch the last three minutes or so, and you will see the connection immediately to last week’s column.

We are having a quiet day today, resting up from last week so we will have the energy to have a similar upcoming week of fun with Gabriella.  

Love,

Rebecca

The first of four fun-filledweeks

This week was week #1 of four we have planned for this summer: one with each of our grandchildren (minus Julia, who will have to wait for a few years) visiting us in New York. Eliana was with us this week. We kept quite busy. We drove her down to New York with a stop at Mystic Seaport along the way. While in New York, we took her to Legoland, had lunch with her two dolls at the American Girl Store in Manhattan (for those who are wondering, they can arrange for kosher meals with advanced notice), rode the Ferris wheel inside the big Toys’R’Us near Times Square, and saw The Lion King on Broadway. She and I spent time together while Barry had to work, building the new Lego kit and watching the AG movie we bought.

Did you know that the above mentioned ride is named after the designer of the original? I discovered this because when I typed “ferris wheel” (lower case f) MSWord marked it as an error. I put in a capital “F” and it liked that, which compelled me look it up. Here is a bit of trivia:

The original Ferris Wheel, sometimes also referred to as the Chicago Wheel,^[8][9][10] was designed and constructed by George Washington Gale Ferris, Jr..^[11]

With a height of 80.4 metres (264 ft) it was the largest attraction at the World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago, Illinois, where it opened to the public on June 21, 1893.^[11] It was intended to rival the 324-metre (1,063 ft) Eiffel Tower, the centerpiece of the 1889 Paris Exposition.

Ferris was a graduate of Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute and a Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, bridge-builder. He began his career in the railroad industry and then pursued an interest in bridge building. Ferris understood the growing need for structural steel and founded G.W.G. Ferris & Co. in Pittsburgh, a firm that tested and inspected metals for railroads and bridge builders.

Barry and I have seen only a small handful of Broadway musicals in our 40+ years together. I think it is a combination of the cost and the need to buy tickets quite far in advance. I used to tell myself that I was not crazy about Broadway Musicals. But actually this was quite enjoyable: the costumes were especially impressive. As we left the theater Eliana asked if we could go again the next day!

We had a wonderful time on all our outings with Eliana. We drove her back to Sharon this morning, and we plan to have a quiet few days here before heading back to New York for our next session of what is coming to be known as “Camp NanaSabba” with Ella next week. The other two will be a bit later on this summer.

Have a wonderful weekend!

Love,

Rebecca 

Quite the juggling act

Despite having to spend quite a bit of time and energy caring for me these past 2+ years, Barry has continued to teach and to pursue some very exciting research. Mount Sinai Hospital issued this press release yesterday.

Variations in Key Gene Predict Cancer Patients’ Risk for Radiation-Induced Toxicity - The Mount Sinai Hospital

Oncologists tend to minimize the importance of the long term side effects of treatment. This is understandable, because at the end of the day most patients would certainly choose to be alive with side effects than the alternative. Having learned all too well about side effects of cancer treatment these past couple of years, Barry now more than ever appreciates the importance of working to minimize them. Going through cancer treatment has certainly enhanced my appreciation of the important work Barry and his colleagues are doing.

It has indeed been a juggling act, but Barry’s intelligence and calm manner have kept all the balls in the air.

Love,

Rebecca

Passing of The Days

There was some rough weather in the eastern half of the United States over the past week. The storm that caused a delayed start to Jame Taylor’s concert at Tanglewood early Thursday evening continued to travel eastward, where later that evening it forced an early end to the spectacular fireworks display at the Charles River Esplanade (aka the Hatch Shell) up in Boston.

We managed to get a bit ahead of the second storm that was close behind the first one on Friday morning while driving “the turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston” (to quote a line from a classic James Taylor song). Eventually the storm caught up with us, and the rain continued through Friday night. When we woke up this morning it was still raining, and we learned that there had been some power outages overnight; our daughter lost power for a few hours. But then, almost as quickly as it had arrived, the storm moved on, the skies cleared, and a magnificent day ensued.

I was struck by how quickly the storm both arrived and departed, as weather fronts tend to do. The storms in our lives often arise very suddenly, through accident, illness, or natural disaster, but they seldom retreat the way the weather does. They will often stay as unwelcome visitors for months or even years. The clean-up process can be painful and tricky, and more often than not we are never quite able to return to life as it was before.

I have a different perspective on this storm than I might have had two years ago. While there were certainly plenty of disappointments to go around this 4^th of July holiday, in the long term scheme of things we can be hopeful that there will be many more chances to see the fireworks. Wouldn’t it be nice if all the suffering in the world could be fixed by just waiting a year and lighting another match?

On this thought, an old and admittedly somewhat obscure Carole King song from her 1979 “Touch the Sky” album came to mind.

Have a great week!

Love,

Rebecca

A reunion with an old friend at Tanglewood

My last post was the morning Joshua left for camp. He seems to be having a blast! When our daughters went to sleepover camp, the camp had a rule that children could not call their parents outside of emergencies. Why? Their experience had been that children often became emotional on the phone and sounded miserable. Typically, the minute the call ended the camper went right back to having fun, but the parents were left worried for days that their child was unhappy.

The internet provides a wonderful way to balance the two needs: for parents to see how their children are doing while the children are free to have fun. The camp has a web page and there must be a small army of counselors running around with cameras and uploading pictures. So we are having fun going through all the smiling faces and finding our grandson. Of course I am not naïve enough to believe that every child is smiling every minute; undoubtedly someone is editing which pictures are posted. But all I can say is that I am almost ready to pack my duffle bag, they are having so much fun! Here is a picture of Joshua and some friends I found on the site (yes, he really is tall, the boy on his left is a year older than he is!):

 

Despite the threatening weather, we headed up to western Massachusetts yesterday morning. The day turned out to be quite lovely, although a bit warm. We checked out MASS MOCA, the Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art, located about a half hour from Tanglewood. Like so many buildings in that part of the state, the museum is housed in an old factory that has been converted, but maintains a lot of the flavor of the original place. It is filled with modern art, a lot of geographic patterns and such. Not our usual taste but it was interesting. Here is an example. You can check it out at www.massmoca.org.

 

When we left the museum it was still mostly sunny, but by the time we checked into the hotel and gathered our things for the evening, the clouds were beginning to thicken. We headed over to Tanglewood shortly after it opened at 5 pm, and found a space on the lawn to have our picnic dinner. By the time we finished eating, the clouds were looking threatening and we felt a few sprinkles. We decided to pack up our things, make a pit stop, and head for our seats in the “shed.” Our timing was perfect: just after we arrived the rain came. And came. And came. When it became heavy there was an announcement that the concert was going to be delayed until the storm had safely passed, and they recommended – no, they insisted -  that everyone leave the lawn for safety. All those folks who only had lawn seats were left standing on the perimeter of the shed. By about 8:30 the rain finally let up a bit, the worst of the lightning and thunder had passed, and James finally came on stage. He decided to forego his usual mid-concert break since he had started so late, which I am sure cannot be easy for any performer.

What can I say? James was James at his best. He did a lot of his classics, a few with somewhat different tempos, and a few new songs. The crowd at Tanglewood is head over heels in love with this guy. He always gets a warm response when he sings the lines:

“The first of December was covered with snow,

So was the Turnpike from Stockbridge to Boston.

Oh the Berkshires seemed dream-like on account of that frostin’,

With ten miles behind me and ten thousand more to go.”

All I can say is that it felt very right to be back at Tanglewood, back seeing James. As I wrote about Carole King, I do not know him personally but I feel like he is an old and dear friend. Like the rest of us, he is certainly not getting any younger, but his voice is still strong, and we hope he has many years to go in good health.

I had tried to post a few days ago following the horrible news from Israel about the three teenagers whose bodies were found after a two week intensive search. I could not think of anything I could possibly say. Some sadness simply goes beyond words.

But I was going to post this little video of our granddaughter Julia. And I will end now on this happy note, and wish you all a nice weekend. Stay safe from the storm!

Love,

Rebecca