Monday, March 26, 2018

Maybe I'm amazed

I was about the same age as my daughter is now.

My brother turned on the tv because a Beatles movie was on. It was called Yellow Submarine.
It was a cartoon with the most incredible music I had ever heard. I sat on my older brother's lap transfixed by the music.

After it was over he started playing his Beatles records for me. A part of my life clicked into place. I became a Beatles fan. I wrote to the Beatles inviting them over to my house. My brother, ten years older than me, saw that the letters got mailed.  Who knew, he said. Both  John Lennon and Paul McCartney had children around my age. Maybe they'd visit a weird little kid. I actually got a response from somewhere saying how they had no plans to tour but I was on a mailing list if that would change. I found it when I was cleaning out stuff after my mom passed. The year was 1977.  All four Beatles were still alive.

I remember the morning of December 9, 1980. I was up very early and was listening to my father listen to the radio. I heard that John Lennon had been murdered. I ran into my parents room. We listened to the rest together. He had been killed by a fan who shot him in front of his house. I remembered that he had a son who was about a year younger than me. My mom had tears in her eyes thinking about how Yoko Ono had to tell her young son that his father was never coming home. I went into my brother's room, woke him up, and told him about John Lennon. It was the first time, and one of the only times, I had ever seen my brother cry.

As I grew older music came in and out of my life. But my love for the Beatles only grew. Ask me on any given day what my five favorite songs are and one of them will be Nowhere Man. Often another would be Eleanor Rigby.

I read things about the Beatles. About the rocky friendship between John Lennon and Paul McCartney that created and disbanded one of the best accumulations of talent in the world.

While dealing with the heart of infertility I thought about Yoko Ono often. She had a very public battle with secondary infertility. She and John Lennon suffered three miscarriages before Sean Lennon was born. I once read on an IF blog that Yoko Ono deserved her infertility  because it was her punishment for breaking up the Beatles. I left a blistering comment and never went back. No one "deserves" infertility. Besides, Yoko did not break up the Beatles. That suggests that John Lennon had no autonomy, and that was simply not true.

I'm going into all my history with the Beatles to talk about Paul McCartney. He was always my favorite. The best concert I ever went to was Paul McCartney at Citi Field. Not only for how amazing it was. But, out of the concert, all of the New Yorkers were on the subway platform singing Beatles songs.

On Saturday, Paul McCartney marched in New York's March For Our Lives rally. When asked why, he pointed to his T-shirt which said in bold letters, WE CAN END GUN VIOLENCE.  He said that his best friend had been a victim of gun violence not far from where they were and he wanted to do something. It took people a very short time to connect that he meant John.

You don't think of Paul McCartney as a victim of gun violence. But where people mourned the life of John Lennon, Paul mourned the man. While there were a lot of teenagers who didn't know who Paul was, the adults around them quickly informed them. Some wondered why he didn't lend his name to the big concert. At this I can only surmise that he wanted it to be from the teens and he wanted to pass the torch.

But he couldn't stay in his very posh residence so he went out like millions of us did to march and to protest. To be there to support the cause, and his friend. And I respect him even more. And I offer him my very belated condolences on the loss of his best friend.



Monday, March 19, 2018

Seeing the future

My grandmother had a gift. Maybe a curse.

She could attend a wedding, engagement party, even watch a couple who were dating and know, know as an undeniable truth that they would not work out.

I remember going to a cousin's wedding. Big fancy wedding. Bride and groom made lovey-dovey faces at each other. When we came home my mom said what a nice wedding it was. I said that it would have been nicer if I thought for even ten minutes that the happy couple would work out. I watched my mother's face pale. It seemed that I said my grandmother's exact words with the exact tone that she had used about this cousin's parents. My grandmother had been proven correct seven years later. My cousin's marriage didn't even last that long.

I haven't always been able to predict it. Some friends split up and I really thought they were going the long haul. But right now, I'm watching my niece start on the road to the wedding and I know, I know, she's going down the road for heartache. Other people have told her and she just doesn't care.

I don't get this.

Her "fiancé" asked her to marry him, with a ring and everything, at the end of 2017. But--she's not allowed to tell anyone on social media. He wanted to wait to tell his family. Then he wanted to wait to tell someone else. It's March now, and she's still not allowed to tell people on social media. This means most of her friends don't know.

When her father got engaged, I remember that he was so proud and happy that he stopped the mailman and pointed out my soon to be sister in law.  "Isn't she beautiful! She's the most amazing woman inside and out and she is marrying me!" They've been married over 30 years. Not without bumps,  but still.

My niece has been dating this guy for a while. about six years or so. They broke up when she wanted to become engaged and he didn't. Then he charmed and wheedled and she took him back and she told him that if she didn't have a ring by the time 2018 came she'd be gone. So he got her a ring and forbid her to tell anyone about it.

When it comes to wedding planning he refuses to get married near where her parents live and where she wants to be married. There is an elderly aunt who can't travel and my niece wants her there, but he refuses so that's it.

He insists that she must formally convert to Judaism. Her father is Jewish, her mother is not. She was raised Jewish. She teaches Hebrew School. But it isn't Jewish enough and he belittles her hard-won Jewish knowledge. Their relationship is filled with his micro-agressions towards her.

Yet when anyone tells her that this is not the way a loving man treats his bride-to-be, she dismisses it. She loves him. She wants him.

So I wait with my heart hurting. I know that at some point she will see him for what he is. Maybe he'll change, but I'm not holding my breath. I wish so much that she could see him the way we do. I wish that she would stand her ground. She's a strong woman.  Or she was.

But her biological clock is ticking. She's worried she'll have problems getting pregnant. She wants to be a mother and she thinks that this guy is the only way that can happen. I worry that if she has problems getting pregnant he will blame her and come down on her. I worry.

I wonder if she really doesn't see it, or if she's using her heart to override her head. Has anyone ever dealt with this kind of thing--if so what did you do?


Monday, March 5, 2018

I wanted to help

We were in another town last night.

D has his general doctor's appointment and we met a friend for dinner.

We were looking at dessert when my friend's phone went off. She answered and I saw all the blood leave her face.

Her father had been in an accident and was taken to the hospital. D and I split up. I went with her. D took Belle and we went to the hospital. On the way there, my friend was told her dad didn't make it.

I sat with her for the first hour of so of the surreality of a loved ones death. We didn't talk a lot. There was nothing I could say or do. Also she's an old friend, we've filled silences in college and after. We've traded authors that we love. This wasn't the first time we've cried together, it won't be the last.

I wanted to hold her and let her cry. I wanted to tell her that everything would be okay.
But of course it won't. She has a dad-shaped hole in her life now.

I wanted to wave a magic wand and make it all go away. Moreover, I wanted to wave a magic wand and give her her father back.

People ask, "what can I do?" when someone dies. What I wanted, more than anything was for someone to give me my mother back and that's the one thing that can't be done.

The rabbi who taught me when I was growing up said that there were three great mitzvoth that were the most important.

Visiting (and cheering ) the sick.
Gladdening the heart of the bride and the groom.
Comforting the bereaved

I don't think that these mitzvoth are so important because they are easy. In fact I think these are the most important because they are hard.

Visiting people in a hospital is not easy. It reminds you that you can get sick. It reminds you of the frailty of life. It's scary. To see someone you care for, strong and vital--not so strong and vital.

Gladdening the heart of the bride and the groom, is easy--and not so easy. I mean there are groomzillas, bridezillas, and a whole lot of change that you have brought on yourself. While it is (or should be) a happy time, friends who cheer you--well then they are good friends.

Comforting the bereaved.
I am getting too much practice with this. Since 2018 began, my heart-sister lost her father--equally suddenly as my friend did today. My father's lady friend, the one who helped him through mom's death passed away. And my friend's dad. There are people who don't call or visit because they don't know what to say. So don't say anything! Let your friends and loved ones hold you and be held by you. Feed them. Invite a widow or widower out to dinner. The world is so filled with couples once you've lost your other half people sometimes act as if it might be contagious.

I wish I could shield her from the stupid things people will say. I wish I could shield her from the sounds of mourning. I wish I could shield  her from the reminders of loss which will be so sharp for the next 365 days. After the first years the reminders are still there. The sharpness is still there, but it isn't so frequent, and it is a microscopically amount duller.

I wish I could help.