On Losing My Father

Last known photo of Arnold Zeiler

“This is the longest we have ever been apart…17 months.”  These were the words my father said to me when I first walked into his apartment on January 29^th.  I had planned to visit him last March when the pandemic broke out.  “Wayne, as much I want to see you, please do not come down, it is not safe.”  These words were repeated throughout the year.  While I did not want to catch COVID-19, I certainly did not want to be the one to potentially bring the disease upon my Dad. With the use of Zoom, we still managed to “visit” and share some semblance of in-house celebrations together.  I knew the words were not meant to make me feel guilty but a statement of fact and a sense of sadness we both felt.

Prior to this point, we had gotten calls from Alice, my Dad’s companion for these past 20 years, saying that she needed some help.  A number of years ago, our father had a series of back surgeries followed by a series of strokes.  This led to years watching as he “progressed” from walking on two feet, to using a cane, to relying on a walker, to barely leaving his house.  Regardless of the underlying conditions, we were all watching as his body began to slowly deteriorate.  I know that my family is not alone in watching a loved one lose their independence.   I have also been well aware that I had reached the age where I could have expected to have to help out with an aging parent.  Realizing and facing the reality of all this, however, are two different things. 

It became clear to my brothers and I that the time had come to determine the options to present to my father.  With decreased abilities and an increased potential for falling, we had all reached a junction where additional help would be needed.  We became the first line of defense, taking turns staying overnight.  I can honestly say that any sound heard throughout the night did cause me to think the worst.  24 / 7 care was needed within a short time as standing and moving with a walker progressed towards needing help to stand progressing towards using a wheel chair.

It is not easy to see someone who you remember standing tall, helping out when needed, provide guidance and giving support become the one who is now dependent on the help of others for the activities we normally take for granted.  Over the following 13 weeks, we watched the decline with the ability to stop the trajectory that his body was taking.  As sad as the situation was, we did receive an unusual gift.  We had all that time to reminisce together, share stories, laugh and cry together.  The 17 months my Dad mentioned when I walked into his place in Florida will pale compared to the amount of time from when he “left” until we get to be together again.  I will miss my father but I am thankful for the time we had together.

Period of Transition

Do we know when it is time to say goodbye?  On the other hand, do we know when it is time to say hello?  Our lives are filled with points of transition, whether or not we are ready for them or aware that they are happening.  Worse off, there are many times that we turn a blind eye to transitions, hoping to delay the inevitable and keeping things the same.  This is true in our work lives, our volunteer activities and most importantly, our home lives.  Sometimes, we have control of when a transition will take place and other times, we do not.

Many years ago, I was in Barbados for work.  Each morning, I was picked up by the same driver who drove me to the office that I was working out of.  Every morning, he greeted me with the daily weather report which always ended the same way.  What if every day was always like the day before?  I do not mean like the COVID-lockdown-every-day-seems-like-Groundhog-Day, but if we did the same exact routine each and every day.  We used to joke when we were younger that it was funny how cartoon characters never aged.  Think of the decades that Charlie Brown tried to kick the football Lucy held, knowing each time that she would pull it away.

Work, especially over the past year, has seen many people transition in and out, unfortunately aided by the pandemic.  Before that, how many of us had held on to jobs because we were comfortable? Many years ago, I worked for a consulting company when the entire marketplace (and their business) was contracting.  I sat there watching as people were being let go because there were no new assignments on the horizon.  I should have seen it coming, but I was not prepared when it was my turn to be laid off.  The transition occurred even though I was not ready for it.  Lesson learned – be prepared for anything and keep your head in the game, your eyes wide open and pay attention to what you are hearing.  Job/Role transitions do not always have to be a surprise. 

My life recently went through a transition, one that was impacted by another’s transition – the passing of my father.  Having been sick for some time, recognizing that he was physically failing, my Dad was prepared and ready for the upcoming transition from life.  When the moment came, he was not surprised.  Though saddened by the event, our family was also ready and prepared.  One transition can lead to another.  With eyes wide open and aware, transitions were made.  Some transitions leave us with an empty feeling, of a loss.  Other transitions lead us towards a sense of hope and opportunity.  How we face these are uniquely our own.  The key is to be aware of them and remember, this too is part of life.

My Grandfather’s Clock

 My Grandfather had a clock that used to sit on a set of draws in his dining room.  Having grown up in a house with electric clocks, I was amazed that this clock, old in style, had no plug to make it work.  Then one day, I remember Grandpa opening the top drawer, pulling out a key and asking him what that was for.  As he placed the key into a hole in the face of the clock, he explained that the old clock was run on a spring.  He continued to explain that the key needed to be inserted, as he was doing, so that he could wind up the clock (tighten the spring) so that the clock could continue to run.  The key was turned a number of times until the mainspring was tightened and the key removed from the clock.  “If I do not do this, the clock will run down, getting slower until it finally stops,” he said as he put the key safely back into the drawer.

The clock comes to mind when I speak of how my father is doing.  I am at the point in life that when I look at my father, I readily notice that he is getting older, dealing with health issues and needing more care every day.  While it is true that no child wants to see their parents aging, struggling with daily routines, nor, fighting to get through each day, it is a part of the circle of life.  I know that I am at an age where I am not alone, as friends have been going through these life cycle changes in similar manners currently or over the past years.  It is not easy to watch the ones that took care of you, made the decisions that shaped your life and help you when needed, to become the ones that now look to you to help take care of them, make the decisions that impact that their lives and help them when needed.  This can be at times awkward and unnerving as it does not seem “natural” to become the parent figure.

The truth is that a time comes where we need to protect our parents and make them feel safe.  Fortunately, our children are old enough to tend to themselves.  That also means they are old enough to see and understand the situation which makes it hard for them as well (in a different way).  As children, they still have the ability to learn; as adults, they have the ability to see how we treat our parents and will hopefully apply the lessons gathered when we look towards them for assistance (hopefully) many years into the future.  For us, this is a clear sign of our mortality, a part of life that greets us whether we are ready or not, prepared for it or oblivious of the waiting cloaked figure with the sickle standing off in the shadows.

I sadly watch as the clock starts to slow down, wending its way towards its inevitable path.  While we know how this story will end, that does not provide comfort today.  I feel like the young child I once was, standing next to my Grandfather, unable to take the key and wind the clock…all I can do is watch.  There is no way to tell how long it will take, but I will take comfort in hearing that clock tick while it still can.

Body Bound

 

In the Star Trek episode, “Return to Tomorrow,” the cast find themselves in the presence of three spheres that contain the essence of telepathic beings that have been in this state since their planet was devastated.  They wish, for a temporary basis, to swap with three people to once again feel what it is like to have a body, to experience life and to see if they can create artificial bodies for themselves.  I remember seeing this episode as a child and it always stuck with me the idea that if we were to lose our capacities, we would ultimately end up like the three beings – a sentient mind without the functionality of the body, forever bound in a sphere.

Science-fiction is funny in a way that when you are introduced to the thoughts, concepts and imaginations of the writer, the stories always seem fantastical, providing us with new ideas to think about.  In the time since that episode first appeared on television (1968), our world has changed considerably.  While we may not (yet) be able to move our minds into newer bodies, technology and science has provided the ability to extend lives beyond the lifespans of the 1960’s.  When my parents were children, no one would have believe that one of the greatest people in astrophysics and cosmology, Steven Hawking, would see the universe bound to his wheel chair, communicate through a speech generating device and produce theoretical breakthroughs.  Man’s ability to persevere, succeed and overcome obstacles is amazing!

But what happens when you have had a lifetime of multiple physical skills and then, at a mature age, things stop working as you have been used to?  How quick can one make the required adjustments to overcome the new challenges before them.  Blessed with sight, sound, mobility, etc., it is hard to fathom how to handle diminished or lost abilities.  As a 58 year old, I can safely say that there are times where I can “feel” like my body cannot do some of the things that it used to, has aches and pains that come and go, and, does not react quite as quick as it did 25 years ago.  Growing up, we had a German Shepherd, Tippi, who at a later point in life began to show signs typical of the breed – hip dysplasia.  As the condition worsened, the vet finally told us that she is mentally sound and knows that she will have to begin dragging her back legs.  Sadly, we made the “humane” decision to put her to sleep.  What we can do for our pets, we cannot do for ourselves.  From a religious point of view, our life is precious.  While science helped Mr. Hawkins and for many people, it has helped to allow new chances on a productive life.  For others, not so much.

When I was younger, I was fascinated by the beings in that Star Trek episode.  It made me think that once the body goes, we are left with only our essence…our minds.  The only way to preserve that seemed to be answered in a made for TV sci-fi episode.  I am definitely not telepathic, so that would not be a solution and I would be trapped in a “vessel” until science could figure out how to create an artificial body to drop my brain into.  Whether a sphere, or some other container, the key word would be trapped.  At the end of the day, the real lesson is to take care of ourselves, remember to stop and smell the roses and be kind to the other people we meet along the way.

The Story of Our Lives

My Dad recently asked me the question, “How much do you know about your grandparents?”  I thought for a few minutes and answered honestly, “Some.”  My Dad sighed and responded, “There are some stories that I am the only one that knows them.”  This exchange made me think – how much do my children know about their grandparents?  How about my grandparents?  Oddly enough…about their own parents’ stories from before they were born?

I had the unique opportunity to know my four grandparents.  That ended at the age of fifteen, when I lost both of my grandmothers within a year.  I do have memories of them and remember some of the stories from their lives.  I remember a few more stories as told by my maternal grandmother, as it seemed she was also still finding family members.  My maternal grandfather had a bad stroke shortly after she died and remained homebound and needed help the remainder of his life.  He was a good storyteller and came from a large colorful family.  But once he was sick, his speech also suffered.  My paternal grandfather, the only grandparent Debbie met, died just after Rebecca was born, which meant that I had the opportunity to have an adult relationship with him.  Naturally, as of today, I know most about his growing up poor in Europe, moving to America in 1920, his many jobs and his life in general (he lived the American dream). 

Most of what my children know of my grandparents comes from me.  As with most oral histories, the actual stories begin to get diluted, some of the holes in the stories get replaced (sometime consciously, sometimes not) and stories transform into legendary tales or family folklore.  All of us grow up hearing them and we all try to pass our favorite stories on.  In my house, some of the legendary tales my brothers and I always laughed at are greeted with blank stares from my girls followed by the question, “Why would you know that?”  And generally speaking, the stories about myself, while told in all seriousness, cause them to laugh at me, and keep getting recycled (always at my expense).  For example, I shared that my parents taught us how to dance for my Bar Mitzvah, specifically the Waltz.  That has given them hours of endless laughter, wondering who else in the world Waltzes in the basement and why is it that the only goofball that did so was their father (my brothers conveniently do not remember this).

I realized that the stories, however they remember them, are the stories that they will carry with them and become the tales that they will tell.  I remember my grandfather relating a scary story from the mid-1920’s.  He and a few friends were out driving in a car when the car got slammed into on the side by another car.  At that point in time, the cars were not made heavy duty like today and split in half, the front going in one direction and the back going in another.  As they got out of the car, the drivers of the other car were gangsters of some sort and the threat they gave buried any further action.  To this day, I only have the image of the car breaking in half and going in two different directions like a cartoon and I am laughing while typing.  I asked my dad to fill in the blanks.  He remembered the friend’s name (Sam Katz), he laughed and was fuzzy on the rest of the story.

These are the stories of my life; I am sure my girls will pass on the stories that made them laugh, taught them a lesson or inspired them. 

Every Day is Groundhog’s Day

As we head into February, the thought of living life where every day is Ground Hog’s Day has become a reality.  Ten and a half months ago, I remember wondering how we would be able to live in a lock down world, where we minimize our time leaving our homes, work from home and limit in-person social interaction (outdoors and 6+ feet).  After all of this time, the “new” normal has taken hold and we have all found new ways to live our lives, interact with friends, methods of entertainment and the way we work.  I talk about looking forward to the day we can go back to “business as usual” and recently was talking to someone who cannot wait to get out of his house and be face-to-face with potential clients.

Oddly enough, I have recently been feeling a new type of anxiety – one of leaving the house.  I am OK with going to the local Shop-Rite and some of the other places nearby so that we can function.  But the moment something new comes up.  For example, I just got my haircut which was something that I usually would do when my hair reached a certain length and started getting unruly.  With the number back up at new high levels, I have held off on going.  Yes, some friends started to refer to me as “Shaggy.”  The last time I went was in mid-September.  Living within a realm of Groundhog’s Day, that would have happened somewhere on the fringes of my memory.  I started to have some anxiety around going and leaving my house to someplace different.  In the back of my mind, I began to wonder, are my fears real or perceived?

Fear, according to Merriam-Webster, is ”to be afraid.”  One of the base emotions that drives us is fear (the other would be love), the sense of danger that is one of the triggers that helps us to protect ourselves.  For some, fear can be stifling.  For example, if there is a severe lightning storm, the anxiety caused by the fear of getting electrocuted could save our lives.  That is an example where the anxiety has a real underlying fear.  Logically, I knew that there was nothing to fear in getting my haircut.  The place that I go minimizes the people in the place, everyone is masked and safe protocols are followed.  Still, I was leaving my bubble of safety.  By the time I pulled up to the place, donned my mask and walked up to the door, I was my usual chipper self, without a hint of anxiety.  My fear was perceived. 

We have become so home-bound, we forget that the things that we treated as normal still go on.  People  shop safely, fly safely and for the most part, do the right thing.  If you are uncomfortable by the one or two people who are acting selfish (as in inconsiderate of the people around them), avoid those places.  Tomorrow I will wake up, like every other day, and engage in the same routines as the days before, as if it was Ground Hog’s Day.  Oh yeah, I forgot…it will really be Groundhog’s Day!

One Eye Looking Forward and One Eye Looking Backward

We were recently watching a series on television where the father had a clear view of the world and how it should be, how we should behave and the paths we should all take.  His adult son also had a clear view of the world and how it should be, how we should behave and the paths we should all take.  From each one’s point of view, they were both correct, yet there was no way that their individual views would ever come into alignment.  I know, you are thinking that I am not making sense – based on the way I described their points of view, they both share the same beliefs…or do they?

When I was growing up, there was the term “Generation Gap” that became a catch all for the differences between generations.  The generation (this was before they were given fancy names) that grew up in the fifties had parents who lived through World War II and were fairly strict and brought their life experiences to the rearing of children.  Those children came from “traditional” homes, where the father worked, the mother tended the house…sort of like living in the world of “Leave it to Beaver.”  Then came the second half of the Sixties, we were in a war no one wanted to be in, youth was experimenting with expanding their minds and new ideas were taking place…the world had changed (a la “Who Moved My Cheese”) and that older generation did not see the newer world.

That time period is an easy example, as the extremes of ideas easily exemplifies two worlds / thoughts colliding.  However, new ideas clashing with old principles and the perception of rebellion have existed long before this humble author stepped foot in this world and will continue past my last breath.  If you merely sit in a group of people and there is a wide range of ages included, you can also see this type of gap, though the differentials might be more subtle.  There is the thought that our perception of reality is filtered through the prism of our experiences.  For those that have lived longer lives, that prism can have many layers of filtering; while those that have lived shorter lives, see things without those filters and can have more hope and expectations towards what tomorrow may bring.  For both, the perception of reality is seen through their eyes…both are correct, from their points of view, and they could perceive each other to be wrong.  For the ones whose eyes are not clouded by past experiences, it is important to explain what potentials exist ahead.  For those that have had the experiences, it is important to share the potential pitfalls and observations gathered.  Once that agreement is in place, instead of being like Janus and only seeing either forward or backward, we can look in one direction, leveraging our accumulated knowledge while forging new paths into the future.

A Birthday Adventure

 “Since there is no Spanish equivalent for Wayne, we’ll call you Ber-nar-do,” my 7^th grade Spanish teacher informed me. 

“Can you use my Hebrew name?” I timidly asked.  “It is Zev, which means wolf.”

“Yes.  We can call you Lobo.”

Over time, Lobo became the more familiar Lobes, which some people still call me to this day.  Oh, in case you were wondering my full Hebrew name is Zev (Wolf) Baruch (Blessed).

Why do I bring this up now?

This past weekend, we celebrated my birthday.  The one activity planned would be an appropriate CDC compliant, socially distanced, masked event.  Debbie and the girls planned a trip to the Lakota Wolf Preserve in Columbus, NJ, located near the Delaware Water Gap.  This was a place that we had talked about going to a number of years ago, but never made it.  Finally, after many years, we were going.  We woke up Sunday morning, I put on a black tee shirt with a wolf’s face on the front and was ready for the adventure ahead.  Rain or no rain, we were going!

As we drove towards the Preserve, we took note that this area of New Jersey has some hills and lots of tree growth, so much so that that we commented how we no longer felt like we were still in the same state.  When we got there, we waited patiently for the shuttle to brings us through the woods to the site.  Bouncing up the “hill”, we rounded the last corner to see the large fenced in area.  With excitement, the four of us walked up towards the fence, waiting to see if we could spot a wolf.  We were extremely excited when we saw a wolf laying down in the distance!  Images of a large wolf danced in my head, like the wolves of folk legend, most of us have come to know wolves from the stories we read or the movies we saw.  Finally, one wolf came up to the fence – the small group we were part of were all pointing their fingers, oohing and ah-ing at seeing this wild creature in front of us…and then it lifted its hind leg, as if to say “Back up, you’re close enough.”  OK, some of the mystic faded as this male wolf did what was natural to him.

Finally, the time came where we went into the fenced area, led by the owner, who provided some great information about the wolves on his preserve, maintaining the population, legal requirements (permits, inspections) and his clear love for his “children.”  We had the chance to see wolves in their natural habitat.  And then came the awesome moment, where off in the distance, his wife called out to the wolves and they all began to howl.  Then the owner was off to feed the wolves and maintain the area.  Our next stop was to a side area where his wife (who also was our shuttle driver) taught us about Bobcats and Lynx (I did not know they were from the area) and a little about foxes from inside their enclosed areas. 

This was truly a great experience.  We often take for granted the larger world we live in and the creature that we live alongside.  While we are currently at the top of the food chain, we should take the time to appreciate all that inhabit the earth, learn about them to debunk falsehoods and understand what their roles in our global ecosystem means.  Bec has been pressing me for my favorite animal.  My answer has been, “My favorite pet is a dog,” to which she immediately counters, “that does not answer the question.”  I guess the answer might be wolves…after all, I was given the name Zev Baruch…

Steppin' Out

 

I do not get out much.  Since March, I have written about the minimal times that I have been out, the circles that I have drawn around myself and the diligence to remain safe.  The truth is, while my comfort zone is primarily my house, that does not mean I do not yearn to go out and do the things that we used to do.  I have commented that I would love to get in the car and drive somewhere for vacation, but I have no desire to eat in a hotel, when half the fun of vacation is going and doing what you want in the moment that you want to do it. 

Last week, cabin fever was reaching a peak.  Debbie suggested that I come up with something that I would like to do.  What we really needed was a change of scenery, something outside our usual travelling (i.e., the supermarket), and something to feel good and safe about.  We wanted to go someplace outside and to get some exercise.  After a little research, we found the perfect location.  We found a historical pedestrian walkway over the Hudson River where the walkway is a converted railroad bridge.  The two of us gathered our supplies (snacks, drinks, toiletries, etc.), hopped into the car and off we went.  After the past five months of barely leaving my house, I was travelling outside the county and crossing the state border.  Nothing too hair raising, but this felt like a big step.  And who better to have an adventure with than my wife!

It was a great day to take a drive.  The sun was out and driving up the NY turnpike was enough to make the trip worthwhile.  We followed the Hudson River north until we crossed over the Mid-Hudson Bridge.  Looking off to the left, we could see the “Walkway over the Hudson”, our destination.  We arrived at the half full parking lot, donned our masks, grabbed our drinks and went off.  I was nervous at first, until I noticed that everyone maintained a social distance from the other walkers.  Everyone had masks with them, though took them off while walking.  We reached the far side of the bridge, then walked through the streets of Poughkeepsie to have a chance to walk across the Mid-Hudson Bridge.  This bridge was empty.  Then we found something really cool and unexpected; The composer, Joseph Bertolozzi, recorded the sound of the bridge to create music.  Along the walk are stations that explain his process and present this unique musical experience. 

When we returned to our car, we realized that this was exactly what the doctor ordered.  We had a safe mini-adventure.  Even though we thought about finding a place to get a drink, we played it safe and realized that we could pick up a drink from a drive through and then drive home.  It was a great day!  OK, all we really did was go to a different location for a walk, but a change of location, exercise, a sunny day and walking hand-in-hand with my wife…it was worth “Steppin’ out, with my baby.” *

 

* Music from Irving Berlin played in my head…

Drawing Circles Around Ourselves

 For four months, my life has been existing primarily from within my house.  I can probably count the number of times that I have been to the store, social visited with friends, etc.  Most of the time when I leave my house, it is the same as sticking your big toe into the pool to see if it is cold.  Trying to stay balanced, you gingerly poke at the top layer of water to determine what you will do next.  I do realize that I work from my house, conduct synagogue business from my house and Zoom socialize from my house.  My children live at home, so we stay together safely as a family.  I have unknowingly gone and drawn a safety or comfort zone around my house.  There are a few other circles that I have drawn where I feel safe, but not many.

Why am I talking about circles?  A number of years ago, I gave a speech regarding our individual comfort zones and how once they are designated, we find it difficult to step outside them.  I likened the comfort zones to circles – circles we draw around ourselves to feel comfortable, circles our parents drew to provide us with a sense of safety and the circles drawn by others to influence us.  The longer the circles are there, the stronger they seem and the wider the drawn lines symbolizing the boundaries become.  But, Wayne, you are thinking, if we draw them, can’t we just erase them?  One would think that.  I remember learning that one of the ways to train a baby elephant is to tether them to a post with a chain.  Once they realize that they cannot escape, as they grow up, it becomes a conditioned reflex, so much so that replacing the chain with a rope will keep the elephant still.  While a full-grown elephant can go pretty much wherever they want whenever they want, due to this learned habit, their comfort zone has become ingrained in them.  Humans are no different once the circles have been drawn.

For me, the key was to realize what I have done by drawing the circle of Covid safety around myself.  I feel safe (that is good), but get anxious about venturing out (that is not good).  I do not want to confuse this with going forth into the world with a mindset towards safety and a diligence to protect ourselves and those around us with the unusual amount of people vying for Darwin Award.  (Yes, I am referring to those who think they are immune to disease, disregard the events of the past five months and think they know better)   Now that I can see the circles that I have drawn around me, I can work towards erasing them by deliberately making planned ventures outside of the house.  Social visits in person, going shopping (when needed), etc., help to overcome these “fears” that have developed.  I am happy to wear my bandana and go out.  Because of this, I am starting to have less anxiety and working towards expanding the circles that I have recently drawn around myself.

A Normal Weekend?

11 weeks of remaining in our homes.  11 weeks of guidance requesting we maintain distance from other people.  11 weeks of wearing masks and gloves when venturing forth for simple, routine things like shopping for food.  11 weeks of being shut down.  11 weeks of whether or not you work, every day seems the same as the day before and the passage of time has become hard to follow.

Saturday, when we woke up, the sun was shining behind a few clouds and there was the promise of a warm, beautiful day.  Debbie and I needed to go shopping for food, something I have not done in the past week or two.  We went to the store to buy some essentials (OK, we did stop at the liquor store).  The supermarket was not that crowded.  When we went to check out, I said I would run to grab garbage bags while Debbie got in line.  I went to the aisle and, of course, grabbed toilet paper, paper towels and napkins along the way.  I stopped…the shelves were full (even though there were signs to limit purchase).  When we went back home, the sun was shining and we had outside work around the house to do.  In the evening, we had a social distance barbeque.  Sunday, we had more things to tend to and an event in the afternoon.

Come Sunday evening, we had finished dinner and reviewed items that we were going to buy on-line.  After some planning for the week ahead, the four of us (5 if you include our dog, Lucy Lou), sat down as a family to watch something on TV.  For the first time in 11 weeks of self-confinement, it felt like we had a “normal” weekend.  OK, we did have masks on when we were shopping.  I picked up a pizza and I was masked and only one person at a time was able to come in for pick up.  But still…we had outside activities, had face-to-face time with other people (at a distant) and accomplished things.  For once, the weekend did not feel like every other day of the week.  For once, in many, many weeks, I felt a real break in the week and it felt great!

Breaking the Sameness

Egg and Cheese on homemade challah rolls on the back deck

My days always seem the same – wake up, motivate myself to exercise, shower, eat breakfast, go to the basement to work, eat lunch, go back to the basement, work until dinner, eat, and have a synagogue meeting.  Some days, we really change it up and have a meeting before dinner.  Nights always end with a little family time.  I am even learning to play Mah Jongg.  Weekends are spent catching up on sleep, motivating to exercise, showering, etc.  On the weekends Debbie and I go shopping for the week gloved and masked.  I have to confess; I do get anxious if I am like that for too long.  This might be our new normal for the time being and I am amazed how after this amount of time, I have become a little comfortable with this.  I guess that our ability to adapt has always been key to the survival of our species.

We are doing our part to protect ourselves and all of the people we know.  And now the weather has turned nice – finally the warm weather is here.  This morning (Sunday as I write), Bec said to me, “Dad, you should come outside to eat breakfast.”  I am not one for making excuses, but the “I’d rather eat inside,” “It’s too sunny out,” “Maybe next week” all came to mind.  “Well, I will be outside if you want to join me,” she said.  Then Debbie came in (Gab was out on a social distance walk with a friend) and said, “I’ll grab something to eat and join you.”  I felt about two inches tall.  “OK, I will join you.”  I grabbed my breakfast and my tea and joined them.  Once I got comfortable and began to relax, it really felt good to be outdoors, feel the warmth of the sun and the coolness from the slight breeze.  I forgot how nice it is to change up one’s routine.

Safety and comfort are important, but do we become complacent in the things that we accept, the thoughts we perceive and the habits we form?  We all talk about how we miss going where we want, when we want and with who we want.  For most of us, our homes are not our prisons, just the place where we hang our hats, feel safe and share with loved ones.  Can we be responsible and maintain social distancing so that we can step outside more frequently?  Or, will we fall into what we are seeing on the news related to people crowding newly opened beaches?  While we still have a long road to travel, doing so safely would make sense, if we all adhere to considering the safety of others and following the guidelines.  Next week is a holiday weekend, so that means an extra day to enjoy nice weather, be responsible and break some of the fears from quarantine that we have developed.

What Day is Today?

I hate to admit this, but I do not always know what day of the week it is.  I find that there are things about the way I think and perceive things that have changed, most likely from being “confined” at home all of the time.  I am sure, in light of this pandemic, we have the makings for a great case study for years to come.  Between time, social interactions and the “new” dress code, life has become different!

When it comes to time, it seems like I am not the only one who feels that time has been distorted, as the people I deal with all seem to have come to refer to the days of the week as today, yesterday and tomorrow.  Occasionally, I have used the term “the other day” only to be corrected that “the other day” was really a week ago from yesterday.  I used to laugh at my retired father when he referred to everyday is a weekend for him.  Now, I am no longer laughing, as day and date confusion seems to have become a reality when you are home almost all of the time, except for a walk to get some fresh air or going to the store.

When my brothers and I were young (yes, many decades ago), like all children of that time period, we played cops and robbers games.  Our getaway vehicle, or squad car, was always our bicycles.  We would zip around the neighborhood playing our games.  40+ years later, I find myself going out to the store dressed similar to how I only imaged I wished I dressed when playing those games.  Now, that bandana has become a fixture on my face when shopping.  I admit, I do not like shopping…FOR ANYTHING.  However, in the age of the pandemic, I look forward to our weekend food shopping.

What ever the day of the week it is, what ever the “new” style is, we will go with the flow for now.  I guess the key is to have good habits, get dressed for the day ahead and set your goals and accomplishments for that specific day.  That way, when the restrictions are removed, life will already be in a good rhythm and no major re-adjustment period will be needed.  In the meantime, make the best of wearing that mask, do not fret over forgetting what day of the week it is and enjoy the time you have to be at home.  One day soon, we will back able to say, “Remember that crazy period in the `20’s?”

The Year of the Plague

דם (Blood), צפרדע (Frogs)…as we were reciting the 10 plagues that Hashem brought upon the land of ancient Egypt during the Passover Seder, it was hard not to relate the words in the Haggadah to the pandemic that has hit 180+ countries.  As we read the words together, I looked up at the Dining Room table where I was seated with Debbie, Gab and Bec.  Last year, as in prior years, we filled the Living Room with the large gathering we have become used to for our first Seder night.  In a matter of a month, the way we handle our day to day activities, gather and communicate has significantly changed.  I never thought we would see the day where reaching out to greet a friend (hand shake, hug) would be shunned because of the potential hazardous impact.  What was once a friendly welcoming gesture is now considered inconsiderate and spurned.

About 24 years ago, my mother was dying of a different potentially deadly affliction – cancer.  I remember going to visit her in the hospital after one of her chemo treatments, where the nurses greeted us at the door and made sure that we put on hospital gowns over our clothes, covered our heads and wore gloves and a mask.  In this case, it was not to protect us, but to protect my mother, as her immune system had taken a temporary hit due to her treatment.  It was not comfortable, nor pleasant, but to visit and spend time together, we all knew what we had to do.  That year, Mom did make it to the Seder, propped up on a couch where she could hear us but was too weak to participate.  That was her last Passover.

We are once again required to wear a mask and gloves, but this time when going out to shop.  We are all practicing social distancing and found new ways to sit around the table to “visit” with out friends and families.  This means that the four of us sat at the festively decorated Dining Room table, with a place for Elijah and my laptop where family and friends joined so that we could all have a Seder together.  With a couple of tweaks, some deletions and a few additions, we were still able to have a fun, fulfilling Seder.  Our Zoom Seder still had group singing, parts for everyone to participate and some goofiness.  This included attempting to pass things between windows (it was magical) and the usual props appearing, just in a newer format.  I guess the lesson here is that we can still persevere, no matter the conditions, to get together and celebrate together. 

Like our ancestors, we will live through this plague to see another day.  We say at the end of each Seder, “Next year in Jerusalem,” this year I added, “Next year we will all be together to celebrate.”  

A Free Moment

As goofy as this might sound, I found myself sitting this morning with a free moment.  Debbie, Gab, Bec and myself (with Lucy Lou) have all been inside for three weeks now.  Oddly enough, it seems as if there is little down time, to sit back, have idle thoughts, and just chill.  While we are all home, this is no stay-cation, as we are all engaged in our daily lives, even if it is being done remotely – the world for us has not stopped.  In fact, at times, it seems busier for us.

A free moment.  With all that has been going on, this will now be the start of our fourth week in, except for essentials (i.e., shopping, walking the dog).  For me, personally, I spend my days working, evenings synagogue related (still needs to operate) and in between is my family time.  I had my cup of tea in my hand, the sun was shining, and there were birds singing.  It was one of those moments where the world seemed to stop, my mind went clear and the need to enjoy the moment took over.  As I sat watching the squirrels play, I sipped my tea, happy for the moment.  But like trying to hold water in your hands for a while, the water finds the cracks between your fingers and works its way out.  In a similar manner, as I was enjoying the moment, I began to think about how nice it was not to worry about my family’s health, having to work from home, worry about the impact on my field, thinking about running the synagogue during this time, worrying about…and just like that, the free moment was gone!

A free moment.  A moment of respite, a moment to “stop and smell the roses,” a moment like a snapshot in time.  (Sigh) The moment, though fleeting as it was, came at a time when it was needed.  A time where the insanity of it all ceased.  A free moment, when I remember a time where there were more of them, without worry, without having to face the fear of a constant unknown and when we paid them less mind.  I quickly jotted down my thoughts before they were lost in the hustle and bustle of the day, so as to save the moment and remember that it was there and look forward to the day when peace of mind returns.

On the Inside Looking Out

I have barely stepped outside this week.  No, I am not infected nor under quarantine.  Nor am I afraid of getting sick myself.  It is easy to follow the guidelines for social distancing, washing our hands and making smart choices.  If we each lived on our own special island, this would be a piece of cake to follow.  For all the times you were driving your car, going at the correct speed limit and maintaining a safe distance to the car in front of you, did some jerk going way over the speed limit cut in front of you to get to the lane to your right, then weave through every car across all of the lanes in front of you?  There is a good chance that the same person is ignoring the healthy guidelines in place to combat COVID-19.  In a car, you can tap the brakes to avoid any accidents; however, when you are innocently in the public, you can be fully exposed.

I had to make another tough choice this week.  This time it was personal in nature.  My father has been in Florida since October and I have been looking forward to visiting him.  I spent the majority of January and February traveling for work, so March became the time I had to go to Florida and spend with my father and my brother (who is in Florida for a few months).  Yes, I have been looking forward to the visit and figured out how to go to Florida, then fly, return trip, from there for work back up here.  Everything was falling into place and after many months of just talking on the phone, I would be able to see my dad face-to-face.  “Mann Tracht, Un Gott Lacht” (Man plans, G-d Laughs) and the best laid plans were tossed out the window, as I have sadly cancelled my trip.  While I am healthy and able, I cannot take the chance that the jerk in my car example above might be next to me, one plane seat over or sneeze as they are walking by.  In that case, I potentially could infect others…especially my father.

When you are on a plane, and they are going through the safety measures, they tell you to take the oxygen first, then help other.  While this seems selfish, to help yourself before someone else, I would need to be in a good condition.  This analogy works in many parts of life, related to health, finances, etc.  As we face this unknown pandemic, where we have no idea where this will lead, the impact on us and the long range effects, for me to remain healthy means that I will do what I can so that I will not contaminate others, will be able to lend a hand if needed and help to watch over my family.  While it might look like my health is selfish – by maintaining my health, I should be able to protect others (in this case).  If there is one thing that I have learned over the past many years, I am not the only one who lives on this planet called Earth.  While I might consider myself as #1, it would be a lonely place to live if #1 meant there was no one else to be with.  Make wise choices to not only protect yourself, but to keep others safe as well.

To Be or Not To Be 25 Again

During the Super Bowl, it was great to see the “Ground Hog’s Day” commercial with Bill Murray, which made sense, as both Ground Hog’s Day and the Super Bowl were on the same day.  Besides acting as a reminder to a fun movie, it was great to see the theme revisited with so much fun.  As the week progressed, it did make me think about having the opportunities to do something over, recycle a portion of my life, or just start over again.  Of course, this is merely a mental exercise, but it does make one stop and think about what if we could have a redo?  Would things turn out different or would they be the same?

Juxtaposition this with having a child that just turned 25.  While she comments on the quarter century mark, us older folk remember (although through tinted glass, aka the filters of time) where we were when we were that age.  I actual had a conversation with someone that stated that even though she is ten years older than Gab, she found a huge difference in time.  At 35, she knew where she was in life, where she wants to head and had experienced enough of life to understand things better.  At 25, she remembered not being sure of the future, still trying to “figure things out” and being a bit rudderless.  When I turned 25 (that would have been 1987), I was still living at home, was on my first adult job and was pretty much clueless on my life and where I wanted to go.  So, yeah, I would have to agree with the assessment that I heard.

What about having a chance to go back and do it all over again?  Aside from the fact that I would have my 25-year-old body and all the energy that it would bring, would I really want to go back, even with knowing what I know today?  I have gathered 32 years more of life experience, have a pretty good understanding of where I am, have a direction my life is going, and I have a great wife and family.  I am where I am based on what has happened to me and am comfortable with the results.  Would I want to go back, tamper with my success (and failures)?  To be honest, if I would end up exactly where I am at, it would be fun.  But if not…I cannot fathom a different life, a different spouse, a different family.  I am happy where I am at.  So, while repeating Bill Murray’s day over and over has some measure of fun, I am happy to have this point in life and all it has to offer.  How about you?

New Year, New Me?

The importance of setting goals

As we have been taught from a young age, the new year is a time for setting our goals, with the corollary being a new year a new you.  I have heard some people push back on this and minimize the importance.  Do we really need to set our goals on January 1^st?  The real answer is no – we can set goals during the course of the year, but need to remember to set targets for achievement and a date by which to meet those goals.  Is it easier to start something on January 1 and end on December 31?  Yes, as we have a date defined for us when to begin and when to end.  In either case, it is important to review where you are at along the way; we should never fall into the trap of being 11 months in before we take a first look at how we are doing.  As a project manager, no client would wait that long into a project to gather feedback, hold their breath on the status, or expect no adjustments along the way.  That is a business case that we can apply to our own lives, such as when I shared the journey a few years ago on changing my habits on food and exercise.

Writing out our goals

Making a public declaration of our goals is one thing.  How many of you actually hand write them down?  As a confession, sometimes I have and sometimes I have not.  However, many thought leaders and successful people in various fields swear by the benefits of writing down goals and doing so in detail.  There is the often-repeated story about Jim Carey writing down his earnings goals when he got to Hollywood.  There is the story that circulated about a man finding the picture he drew of his dream house that he found years after he was living in his dream house; he drew a picture of the house he was living in many years before the house was purchased.  Or the cases where a spouse has written out in detail the mate they hoped to meet and eventually did.  There are plenty of articles on the internet that explain the Neuroscience studies on this.  The simple explanation is that by writing down our goals in detail will help to encode the information to our brain.  Our brain unconsciously then works, or focuses, on what we have passed it, sort of like when you are thinking about a new car you are interested in and all of a sudden, you see that car everywhere.  James Allen wrote the classic book, “As a Man Thinketh” in 1903, and his points about thinking and following through were true then and have science to back it up today.

Goals that are attainable and realistic

“I want to be president of an organization.”  “I want millions of dollars.”  “I want a life of complete financial freedom.”  These are all great goals!  But, are they realistic to achieve in 12 months?  For each of these three and many more big goals (yes, we should think big), in reality there are many steps along the way to reach our desires – there are no shortcuts.  I am president of my synagogue (goal 1?) and this goal did not occur overnight.  I worked on committees, co-chaired a committee with my wife, joined the Board, then was a vice-president for 5 years where I had the opportunity to “learn the ropes.”  In the business world, there would need to be years in various positions before being able to move into a top position.  For the monetary goals, unless you are one of the few that invents the next best thing since sliced bread, you have to be willing to follow a path, with a series of goals that need to be met (in terms of areas of expertise), that include knowledge building and financial earnings power.  The big goals may be multi-year, but the current goals need to be realistic so that achieving them will cause you to continue towards the bigger goals, as opposed to failing, getting frustrated and walking away from your dreams.

Next Steps

Now comes the hard part – putting pen to paper.  Write down your goals, plan out your milestones and start a periodic review process.  Not sure you know everything that you need to?  This is where personal development comes into play; begin by creating a reading plan and attend seminars (much easier with the web).  I know that it has become a cliché statement, but now that you have “planned the work, you need to work the plan.”  Here’s to a fruitful and productive year!

Sunrise Day Camp, It’s the Best Camp!

Hi everyone!   For a little change, I am writing this week’s blog!  I hope you enjoy it! 

-Gabrielle

The Sunrise Association is the first company to have a day camp that is free of charge for kids with cancer and their siblings.  Throughout the east coast and Israel, there are currently 8 campgrounds. During the year, The Sunrise Association does Sunrise on Wheels, which is when people from Sunrise go into hospitals to hang out and play with kids who are cancer patients.  There are also fundraisers throughout the year to raise money for the association. 

The main jobs of the counselors are to make sure that the kids are safe and that they have fun. Staff members make sure that everything is wiped down and that campers always use hand sanitizer in-between and during activities. Without the amazing staff members, the camp would not be as great.  They always make sure that campers are being included and are given the opportunity to be kids.  The biggest goal of camp is for it to be camp and to give the kids the chance for a normal experience.

For the past 3 summers, I have been fortunate enough to work as the Music Specialist at Sunrise Day Camp in Pearl River. We sing, play musical games, and play on the Music Garden that has been donated to the camp.  While at camp, there are many activities to do other than music.  Campers get to play sports, go rock climbing, go boating, play minigolf, dance, go swimming, do yoga, do drama, create art, and make lanyards.  While these are normal camp activities, these campers are special and would not be able to have this opportunity.  Our camp gives children with cancer and their siblings an opportunity to attend summer camp in a safe, caring environment.

I have met so many counselors and campers who have shown me to live each day to the fullest.  You never know where life will take you, so it is important to live every day as best as you can.  Don’t take anything for granted and enjoy everyone and everything.

On October 20, I am lucky enough to be leading a team at Sunrise Walks, where “We Walk So They Can Soar”. For the past few weeks, my team members have been raising money to give to the Pearl River camp. Please find the website below for more information about the camp and everything that this amazing organization does. 

https://www.sunrise-walks.org/PR/Team/View/113113/Team-Z

Facing Our Day Head On, No Matter What We See In Front of Us

Wouldn’t it be great to wake up one morning and have everything go your way or to have an idea, desire or goal to automatically manifest itself?  On top of this, there would be no barriers or push backs to success.  Although this sounds wonderful, a few issues come to mind: no lessons will be learned and there will be no opportunities to improve upon.

In the classic television show, The Twilight Zone, there is an episode called, “A Nice Place to Visit.”  In the story, the main character, Rocky, is greeted by a man named Pip (played by Sebastian Cabot) who informs Rocky that his job is to provide whatever the man desired.  As the main character later realizes, getting everything you want can be boring because you do not have to do anything to get what you want.  This is a great episode with a typical Rod Serling twist.  One of the “lessons” in this story is that if we are handed everything on a silver platter and we have not put out any effort, life does not have meaning.  We need to have challenges in our lives, goals to accomplish and be active in pursuing our dreams.  To attain these, it is almost a guarantee that barriers pop up along the way to either distract us or prohibit our progress, causing things to not go our way. 

There is the old Yiddish saying, “Mench tracht un gut lached” (Man plans / thinks and G-d laughs).  The related phase is “The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray.”  Basically, no matter what we do, there is a chance that something we did not account for, something beyond our control, or something was missed when setting out to do things.  Our options are to ignore, keep moving on, or address it head on.  While ignoring seems like a valid option, sticking one’s head in the sand only means that when you come up for air, the issue is still staring you in the face.  Keeping on moving forward, while seeming to make sense, could work out.  However, like the piece of toilet paper stuck to your shoe, that related issue might follow you wherever you go.  The best solution is to address it head on.  Most of the time, we do not want to do this – this means we are facing our fears, might have to put ourselves in an uncomfortable situation and deal with the unexpected.  But once we face these head on, we find ourselves back on track and have gained something positive in the process.

If we woke up every morning and everything went our way, wouldn’t that be great?  We would never have the opportunity to learn, we would never have the chance for personal development, we would never face our challenges and would never gain the benefits that come with personal achievements.  As great as the idea seems, I will gladly face the day head on, embrace the unexpected and enjoy whatever comes my way.