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.

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. 

2020 Recap – Meeting Goals

We can all breathe a sigh of relief – 2020 is now over and in the books. This certainly has been a year that can be named after the Clint Eastwood classic, “The Good, The Bad and the Ugly.” We have seen it all, lived to survive it, seen good people fall to the pandemic, watched a crazy political season (with the related wacky news media) and have still strived to accomplish something. Each year, we start off listing out the goals and objectives for the upcoming 12 months.  However, 2020 saw many people rip out that page in the book, crumple the paper up and toss it in the garbage.  Let’s face it, I could have written out the same thing last year in regards to 2019 with removing the pandemic reference.  Truth is, there were more challenges in 2020 than in prior years…but, as a challenge, they should still be met heads on and met face-to-face. As James Allen stated so well, “Adversity does not build character, it reveals it.”

One benefit from this year due to self-quarantining was the ability to reflect (“The Good, the Bad and the Ugly”).  Most people do not like to sit and focus on themselves, as it can be uncomfortable to find out one might learn about themselves. However, self-reflection is key to understanding where you are in your life, finding opportunities for continued personal development and a measurement of how you are proceeding. As Aristotle put it, “Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom.” We have had plenty of time for this type of activity and it looks like we will start off 2021 with the same chances to repeat.

Another benefit, for Debbie and me, was having our daughters still living with us. This year was an opportunity to enjoy our family in a way we would have otherwise not had the chance to do. The past months have given us time to learn more about each other (“The Good, the Bad and the Ugly”) and, honestly, come to find that we are able to survive and live together in peace and harmony. There was the occasion recently where I had a commitment and felt bad that I would miss eating dinner with my family. “After 9 months of eating every dinner together, you can miss one dinner,” was the response I got. As we managed together, it was good to have this time to remember once the girls move out and live their own lives.

As Mahatma Gandhi stated, “I cried because I had no shoes, then I met a man who had no feet.”  We have to continually remind ourselves that no matter how bad we have it, someone else has it worse off. Helping those in need is always a way to focus on what we have, as we give a helping hand to relieve other’s true misfortunes. Being heavily involved in my synagogue, it is a wonderful feeling to see the generosity displayed by the congregation and others in reaching out in many ways, providing food, toys, donations (time and money) and other ways to help out.

While we all hope that 2021 is a better year than 2020, this is a wish we should have each year. Let’s face it, I could have written out the same thing last year in regards to 2020 or next year relating to 2022, with the pandemic removed from our lives. Here’s to the good from 2020 and the good for 2021!

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…

Observations from Behind the Mask

Dining outside (or eating al fresco), people laughing together and children running up and down the sidewalk – clear signs that summer is here.  I recently got to watch this scene.  While what I was watching would normally be a heart-warming summer scene, it was painfully clear that I was the only one concerned about a mask; the children were running up and down the sidewalk, where unmasked diners (at a safe social distance) were eating.  The parent, mask-less, showed no mind and I saw the father walk up to the next table, say something and pat the guy on the shoulder.

For almost four months, myself, our family and our friends have been listening and following the CDC and government guidelines.  My father is still in Florida and it has been a long time since we have seen each other face-to-face (virtually – of course).  My mother-in-law’s place is keeping the inside and outside world apart in a measure to provide protection.  My family has been working from home since March to minimize the spread of COVID-19.  We wear masks when we go out to protect ourselves and to protect the ones we love and care about.  I was once taught that on an airplane, during the safety talk, there is a reason why when the air mask drops, you use it first, then help others – if you do not, you have jeopardized your health and the person(s) you would have helped.  One needs to be healthy to help those in need. Wearing that mask is a selfless act, a sign that we care and want us all to survive this pandemic.

People have gotten arrested for thinking it was OK to publicly cough on someone – it is not. 

People think that once you wear the mask past the security guard, it is OK to remove it – it is not. 

People want to believe their children are safe and do not need a mask – it is not. 

There was recently a case where a young nurse went to a bar to celebrate something and the whole group caught COVID-19.  Her comment was “I should have known better.”

When states opened up, people forgot about the pandemic and the numbers went up (think of the old commercial, “they told two people, who each told two people…”).

As I stood there, watching the scene at the restaurant, the establishment was following the guidelines; it was the patrons who did not.  Going to the supermarket, the establishment was following the guidelines; it was the shoppers who did not.  It is easy to get lulled into a false sense of comfort, to remove the mask and gain a (false) feeling of freedom.  The risk…it ain’t worth it.  It is not worth for me to catch it, to unknowingly spread it and to hurt others.  I do not like wearing the mask, but happy to do so, and when I do not want to wear it, I will be happy to stay home.

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.

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.

My Aunt Rose’s Example for Today

Let me tell you about my Aunt Rose.  Yes, I know most people in my age category had an Aunt Rose.  This is about my aunt, in this case.  She came over from the old country when she was already a young lady, when my great-grandfather was able to send enough money to bring his family over from Skalat, Austria (later part of Ukraine).  Truth is, my grandfather, his sisters and mother, got stuck in Europe due to World War I, but made it to this country in 1920.  Out of his two older sisters, I only knew Aunt Rose, who lived in Brooklyn.  I always remember her, in my mind’s eyes, as always being dressed to the nines.  Her hair just right, makeup always on, and the little pocket book dangling from the nook of her elbow.  Supposedly, she always dressed up to give a good appearance her entire life.  I always said she kept her accent from Europe (my grandfather lost his), which my father swears was a Brooklyn accident.  I am sure that her calling me “Vayne” was not a Brooklyn accent!

My aunt came to mind when I realized how long we will all be staying inside, in some form of quarantine.  With no reason to go out, no reason to socialize and no reason to look our best, it is easy to stay in our pajamas all day (if you actually wear pajamas).  Or sit around in sweatpants, pass on the shower and use this “down time” to catch up / binge on all media.  I remember, as a child, when I was sick, it was great to not get dressed, lay on the couch and watch cartoons.  Our Mom would buy us a model to give us something to do.  Today, it is gloomy looking outside and it would be oh so easy to slip into a “sick day” mode (in camp language, a day of bunko-sleepo).  For our heads, it is better to get up, do something, set a task for the day, get up, get dressed and get to it.  We might be boxed in by the walls of our houses, but that does mean we do not have to be productive.  Those old puzzles that have been sitting idle in the closet waiting to come out to play?  Yay! We are doing them.

During this time of staying inside, quarantine, it is easy to let things slide.  This is what made me think of my Aunt.  At 90, Aunt Rose never let anything slide…I remember the last time Debbie and I went to visit her, when Gab was an infant and we went with my parents and Grandfather.  At this point, she was wheel chair bound due to a car accident (she was the passenger).  As always, she was well dressed, makeup in place, hair done just right and the pocketbook in place on her arm.  It did not matter her condition.  All these years later, her daily routine still sets the example that no matter the situation we find ourselves in, we should care of how we look and present ourselves.  If we motivate to make ourselves look and feel our best, then the more we help our mindset and can set ourselves up for success, even if we have to remain inside.

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.

The Famiy Curse

As a young adult, I found out that there was a family curse, one that possibly lead to the death of my paternal grandmother years earlier.  I was shocked!  A family curse?  My mind raced off to the literature I read (minimal at that point), comic books (which I did read) and cartoons (go Bugs Bunny), and had the immediate vision of either a twisted, wart covered old hag or some robed old wizard with a long pointy beard and a pointy hat covered in stars, from the “old country”, casting a hex upon our family.  Based on my facial contusions, my parents continued that my grandmother had diabetes, inherited from prior generations.  The “spell” on me was broken, popped like a pin pricking a balloon.  While diabetes is serious, I was confused as to why this was a secret, cast under a dark cloud, and only mentioned in hushed voices behind closed doors when no one could hear you.

There are many thought leaders that point out the best way to motivate someone is through love or fear.  Love gives us that warm, welcome feeling of belonging and connecting with others.  Fear raises the fight or flee instincts buried within us and makes us do things to protect ourselves, binds us together against a common enemy and then we can step back and think about it afterwards.  As I am sitting here with some statistics, I am amazed at the capacity of fear.  For example, as of May 3, the United States had 32 million confirmed cases of the flu, which resulted in 18,000 deaths.  If I came to you and said that globally, 100,000 caught something, 3400 died from it, and only 100 confirmed case in the United States (at that date) – which would be the bigger concern?  Obviously the one with the larger statistics should be of utmost concern.

Getting back to my family curse.  As my parents explained to me, in the early 1900’s, pushing further back to small town (shtetls) in Europe, Diabetes was a fairly unknown disease, who’s consequences were deadly.  It was this broad unknown that people felt was brought upon by the evil eye.  Yes, that meant that I came from a group of people that were superstitious (red bendl under the crib, stupid piece on the challah, etc. superstitious), and attributed bad things to things done wrong.  While we understand Diabetes today, there was a point in time where my ancestors did not, so they assumed it was a curse.  Yes, when faced with the unknown, we tend to fear what we do not know and our fight or flight instincts kick in.  The key today is to maintain healthy practices (which you should do anyway), like washing your hands, using your cough / sneeze pocket, instead of coughing or sneezing into your hands, and stay home if you do not feel well.  While we face this current health crisis, it is important that we follow valid health sources (not politicians and newspapers) and maintain a level head.  Be assured that this too shall pass as we become more educated and no longer feel that dark cloud hanging over our heads.

The Secret Sauce

My Mom had a lot of recipes that she wrote out, some were hand-me downs, others were ones that she picked up along the way.  It is fun to pull them out (when time allows) and to scan them for old favorites (I still cannot find her butterscotch brownies recipe).  And yes, there are recipes that have written out “a pinch of this”, “a dash of that” and a few that have items that are completely illegible.  There was an old recipe for a chicken and noodle dish that we enjoyed, that was never written down which my brothers and I remembered different pieces of.  Yes, my Mother (of blessed memory) seems to have kept some cooking secrets – in other words, the “secret sauce” in the kitchen, stayed with her.  Debbie and I tried to recreate this dish based the input from my brothers and me; we were close but knew something was missing.

The topic of secret sauce came up recently while I was teaching a training course for OneStream.  The class discussed how important training and user acceptance is.  There is an old saying that “confused people do nothing”.  In the business world, this would equate, when implementing new software, that confused people would tend to go back to their old, familiar habits.  I have seen where even with successful implementation (various software) and process improvement initiatives, people are still very reluctant to give up what they feel comfortable with.  This often leads to them pulling out the old spreadsheet to challenge the numbers presented.  While I will agree that during user acceptance testing, these spreadsheets are valuable in proving out new processes and system upgrades, but can be retired once testing is complete.  However, once we move past this, everyone forgets the drawbacks of manual processes – (1) they are manual and time consuming, and, (2) there is a risk for input errors leading to false results. 

Of course, there are the chances that like older recipes, past down through the generations, that all information will not be revealed, causing the old processes to appear suddenly.  I know we have all seen the person who has the printout in the back of their notebook – they crouch down during a meeting, thinking that no one sees them, bend the bottom half of the pages upward, peer down into their secret sauce and then point out that the new ways are wrong.  For most projects, putting in a new system, no matter how complex, is easy when compared to the task of acceptance.  This can take a long time due to people not wanting to step outside of their comfort zones.  Yes, it most likely will lead to better info, more efficient processes and better overall team performance.  This issue is that people have come to rely on what they know, cannot understand if it is not broken why fix it (and sometimes it is broken), and a feeling that they will become less valuable to the company. 

In the volunteer world…yup, it is the same.  Holding onto information, procrastination and throwing out irrelevant facts does help to deter movement.  Now that I am writing this, politics, governments, etc., seem to follow the same pattern.

In a world of food channels, websites and videos, it has become easier to find the recipes (i.e., solutions) more than ever before.  Whether my Mom had hidden any secret sauce from us or not, knowingly or unknowingly, whatever the ingredients, her food always had those special flavors and tastes we remember.  As we all move forward, it is important to remember what we had, keep the positive thoughts, and focus on how we move into the future.

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?

In Times of Transition

It is time for a transition.  To modify the phase from the movie “Risky Business,” “Transition happens.”  The Oxford dictionary defines transition as “…the process or a period of changing from one state or condition to another.”  I feel like I just went through a transition, now I am preparing for yet another transition and a short way down the road, there will be yet another transition.  With a transition in life, in work, in roles and in attitudes, there seems to be no end to this in sight.

As a child, I remember going to school, playing outside, playing with friends and family mystery car rides.  Yes, we had mystery car rides where our parents would pick out something to do, not tell us and off in the car we would go.  Sometimes it was an amusement park (most of those from that time are gone, like Bertram’s Island), sometimes it was to some ice cream place with an arcade, sometimes it was…I do not even remember.  One time, I swear it is true, we were driving up route 17 and they announced on the radio that the Zeiler Family was out driving on a mystery car ride.  I never figured out how my dad pulled that one off…but I digress.  Our transitions, when we were young, were the BIG EVENTS: changing schools, reaching a religious milestone (in my case, my Bar Mitzvah), or getting a first real job.

In this past year, I feel that I have been involved in many transitions – I started the year transitioning to a new company, to new roles in the company and to different clients (normal in consulting).  We watched and were part of our children’s transition from graduating college, moving back home, to job changes, to a first real job and to other interests.  As president of an organization, I have been part of some small transitions which included changing mindsets, addressing real issues (which, like change, people tend to avoid), opening new doors and within the next six months, transitioning out of this role.  They say life is like a roller coaster, pull the bar down and hang on.  Yup, I can see that.

Transitions happen like a river, forever moving forward and never giving the chance to stand still.  It is important to take advantage of this while you are still able to do so.  As we begin the last few days of 2019 and move forward into the next decade, it is time to plan out the goals and objectives for 2020.  It is a time for transition…for all of us.

Happy New Year!

Annual Give Back Night

How often can you say that you helped others, provided awareness for a good a cause and raised money all at the same time?  While we know that ’tis the season for giving, it is important to remember those who are less fortunate, especially those in a situation not of their own doing. 

Saturday night was the Annual Zeiler Family Give Back Night.  This was our opportunity to help provide awareness for the Center for Hope and Safety, which “…is dedicated to assisting victims, and their children, of domestic violence by turning fear into safety, helplessness into strength, and isolation into hope.”

We met at one of the local malls (there is no shortage of them in Paramus) for our two-hour session.  Our job for the session was to help wrap gifts.  All of the supplies were donated for us to use.  It is right before the holidays and even in the age of cyber buying, the mall still had a good flow of people buying gifts for their loved ones.  For the shoppers, we were there to help them with the holiday task of gift wrapping.  There were siblings shopping for their parents, parents shopping for their children and friends shopping for friends.  Gab helped a little boy who was so excited that he picked out his own gifts to wrap. 

Once we replaced the previous group and were ready to go, there is always that initial moment of whether or not people will come by to have their gifts wrapped.  And come they did.  With their toys, clothes and other gifts. Our services to them were free.  I was excited by the generosity of the season which led most people to make a donation to the Center for Hope and Safety.  That generosity will go directly to help support this important organization to help others in need.

There are many ways to help those in need and many great organizations to support.  Most people are caught up in their lives, working towards making ends meet, and providing a roof over their family’s head.  While it is always great to celebrate (whatever the reason), it is important to remember that there are those who wish to have cause to celebrate, but cannot.  Whatever you do this season, keep in mind those less fortunate, and remember to keep them in your thoughts and prayers, so that they too can hope for a better future.

Where Were You?

“I remember where I was…” was a comment my mother made.  The reference, for her, was where she was when President Kennedy was shot.  We were living at the time in an apartment in Fort Lee, NJ.  She said that it was surreal because when it was announced, everyone went out into the courtyard, feeling kind of lost but looking for other people to be around, whether they knew them or not.  This was a story that I heard a number of times growing up, generally around the end of November near the anniversary of the shooting of our 35^th President.  I still remember her saying that and never really understood it.

On September 11, 2001, two planes brought down both of the World Trade Center towers.  I remember when I heard about it.  I was at a client in Bristol, Virginia, walking through the lunch room and heading into a meeting.  There was a small television where they were just announcing the breaking news that a plane just hit the Trade Center.  At the time, I was thinking that this happened before when a plane hit the Empire State Building in 1945.  A short time later, someone came into the meeting to tell us that the second tower was hit and the Towers collapsed.  I immediately called home and my family was safe.  My brother was working downtown in one of the nearby Trade Center Buildings.  I called his cell phone – there was no answer.  I immediately called Debbie, who could not contact him either, as the phones were out.  There was no way of knowing if he was safe or not.  My wife called a short time later and told me she spoke to his girlfriend.  My brother was in Delaware playing golf with some clients.  I cannot tell you how relieved I was.

We were lucky.  We all know people that were not so lucky and lost a loved one, knew someone that was lucky to not be in the building at the time or were involved in the cleanup.  The greater New York area was greatly impacted.  All plane travel was cancelled.  If I was not already at a hotel, I would not have been able to get room, as everyone was frantically driving north to get home.  I drove home a few days later and came home to people that were afraid to travel, go to New York and cross bridges.  A few days later, I needed to be in Atlanta for a meeting.  The airports had re-opened, were empty and crawling with military personnel for protection.  Debbie was not happy that I had to travel, but it was safe and easy.  That flight was the last time I would be able to check-in at the gate.  The world had changed, air travel would never be the same and an attack on US soil became real.  Last week was the 9/11 anniversary and we still share where we were and what we were doing.  I now understood why my mother always told her story of where she was.

Independence 2019

As the second half of the year begins, as Americans, we take one day, July 4^th, to step back and celebrate the birth of our great nation.  In many nations across the globe, there are many countries where the population is nationalistic, proud of their place of birth / origin and celebrate similarly every year.  For me, this is a day to celebrate the birth of our nation, parades take place and we spend time together as a family.  OK, in truth, this is really more than just a one-day celebration – there are celebrations on the weekends and fireworks presented by the neighboring towns over a bunch of nights.

For this year, as for the past many years, one of the ways that I look forward to celebrating our Independence Day is as clown in a local parade.  For about an hour and a half, I had one simple goal, spread happiness!  The group that I work with, Miles of Smiles, takes an interactive approach to parades – we do not march in the parade down the middle of the street, but walk along the sides, interacting with the people and high-fiving children of all ages.  It is about making them feel good, giving them a memory and adding to a positive experience.  For me, it is really a chance to live in the moment - I was able to not have to worry about making decisions, no thoughts regarding the issues of the day and no crises to avert.  That time in the parade was a series of small slices of time and watching a smile appear on someone else’s face.  Needless to say, by the end of the parade, I was tired.  Onto the next two events, in costume, of course. 

As we celebrated the 4^th, it really was a celebration about a nation that broke away from being a colony.  A country striking forward with new thoughts and new ideas for that time period.  We were to be a country without a king, but representative leadership selected by the population.  In a relatively small amount of time, aside from becoming a world power, we were able to lead in multiple areas of development, technology and thought.  We have many good, positive reasons to celebrate.  I hope that you all had a great 4^th of July.