11 - Don't Tell Me

Don’t Tell Me . . . Show me

This all started when my children were very young and I would scold them for some inappropriate behavior. Often they would look up at me with pleading eyes, and say, “I love you, Mommy.” And sometimes I would say, “Don’t tell me . . . Show me.” Their saying I love you was meant to settle everything, to make it all right, to have the problem go away. But I never explained to them what I meant by “show me” . . . why not throwing cereal at your sister or not teasing your brother until you made him angry also meant “I love you, Mommy.” It meant that they were making Mommy’s life easier, that we could enjoy each other more, and that early in the morning was a bad time to test my patience.

After having understood the show-me concept with my children, it has taken me 86 years to conclude that this is why elderly people often decline so rapidly. It is because relationships decline. It is when they decline that the more frail elderly begin to feel the lack of love. They may hear, “I love you.” But that is not enough to answer their needs. It is to do “I love you” that brings about their emotional, and thereby their physical, well being.

I suppose it is harder to give to people whose bodies begin to deteriorate and who are unable to remove themselves from whatever their physical limitations might be . . . someone who cannot walk with you or play with you or give of themselves as they once did. But sharing a drive or a long conversation or a movie or a shopping trip or a lunch helps warm the heart and soul. It brings about a sense of continued belonging. I can now understand why my grandmother faded so rapidly. At the end of her life she lived alone . . . a totally new experience for her. And although her need for love may not have been strong, she was denied the sense of companionship and belonging that had always been such an integral part of her life

What is most uncomfortable for a formerly independent individual is to express their neediness . . .to graciously accept token attention from those they care about most . . .to have their pride wounded by others attending to them because of a sense of responsibility rather than truly wanting to share their time and thoughts. It is also uncomfortable when family members dwell on the physical limitations rather than recognize that a still vital being remains. You know they love you, of course. But verbal love or a love based on a sense of duty is shallow compared to love expressed in action.

As a terminally ill patient, I know whereof I speak. I also know that I am incredibly fortunate to have love expressed so beautifully by my loved ones. I receive bountiful caring in word and deeds. It comes in the form of frequent telephone calls, visits from family and friends, occasional lunches, many e-mails, recognizing and satisfying what-ever my needs may be. Often I am blessed with hearing them say, “I love you.” Hearing those words is wonderful because my loved ones also “show me.” I am so grateful for their expressions of love.

10 - Debby's Letter

June 25, 2004

Dearest Vailia,

I wanted to send you a little something. Bruce sold quite a few cars this last month and I thought this might come in handy considering all you are dealing with.

I just wanted to say a couple of things to you without getting too maudlin. I know we say these things to each other on a regular basis but I also felt it was important to put this down on paper.

First of all, although our first few years were a little rocky, I think we have had the most wonderful in-law relationship I have ever seen. I tell so many people about you and how energetic and positive you are. One of my all time favorite memories is during one of your visits to the Pittsburg house. You were up on a ladder in our bedroom, wallpapering. It must have been about 3:00AM and you turned around to find me laying on the floor in utter exhaustion. I think you said something like, “Oh, you look tired. Maybe we should quit for the night.” I tell people about this all the time with great love and affection in my heart. My confidence in decorating and creating wonderful things is very much inspired by your example. Someone asks you to do something and you just say yes and figure out a way to get it done later. In many ways, you have carried on the work of my dear Aunt Marie who passed away when I was 15. She was so creative and interested in all things domestic. She was the one who gardened and embroidered and cooked and baked and went antiquing, not to mention her full time job as a nurse. It is that spark that carries me through every day and you rekindled that spark and have become such a vital part of my life.

Secondly, Bruce is such a wonderful, bright, talented, loyal, loving man. While there are always things we look back on with our children and wish we had done better, he has turned out to be such an inspiration as well as an endearing and just plain fun life partner. To watch him grown and change and become the man he is today has been my pleasure. You started him on that road and he would not be the person he is without the strength of such a wonderful mother. Knowing that you accomplished this as a single parent with all the challenges and obstacles that life threw in your path is a wonderful example of what can be done in spite of the odds.

Last (for now), you are such an important part of my life. Not only did my own father’s spirit come to you to ask your help in getting me through the rest of my life but on such a personal level, you have been the mother and friend that Lolita could never be. She was wonderful in so many ways but she had her limitations and God sent you to me to fill in those gaps. “It takes a village to raise a child” is such an apt statement. I would not be the woman I am today without your constant guidance and subtle influence. Much like your son, I always knew you were there for me. I could always share my little triumphs with you and know you would understand and appreciate what I have done. I also knew I could come to you in times of trouble and rely on your strength and love. What a gift.

I just wanted to put in words a little bit of what you mean to me. I love you from the bottom of my heart!

Love,

Debby

09 - David's Letter

For All The Memories You’ve Made

 You have always been the memory-maker in my life and taught me what and how much it means to make memories in the lives of those you love, especially your children. Though, try as I might to emulate you, Mom, you are one of the Master Teachers . . . and me, as mere student, seem to fall sorely short of the mark.

You have always been there when I needed you. No matter what time, no matter what was going on in you life, you would drop it all to help me with whatever was going on in mine. You are again a “Master Listener”, and though our opinions might not always agree, we have learned to “agree to disagree”.

You are the “I need a costume” Mom. The first time I ever heard that term was when I was 19 years old . . . remember? What a treasure you have been and are to me . . . and how much I have learned from you.

The love we have shared since 1970 has been such a precious love . . . like a rare blue diamond . . . that is so rare. But on the other hand, we are happy to share with others the love we have for each other.

Memories flood me now. Tears flow, not out of sadness . . . out of the joy we have shared with each other over the years. I want you to know how very much I love you . . . and don’t know if I am conveying it enough.

Remember me asking you for Robin’s hand in marriage on one knee? Remember Tavis in your slippers the first time you got to see him? Remember the day Vailia Jean was born? Remember, Remember, Remember???? And I smile at the memories.

In these mere mortal words, it is to try and convey to you how very much I have loved you, I do love you, and will continue to love you. You have been the one stalwart constant in my life . . . and I cannot begin to tell you how much that means to me, MOM.

Love Always,

Dov

08 - Vailia's Letter

Happy Birthday

If I am asked who my mentor is, the one
I admire most,
There is no other answer,
But you.

You, who guides me in my life,
Are my champion, my
Supporter
My motivation, my joy
My friend, my teacher,
And student

I strive to remember every word you’ve uttered to me,
To learn from your mistakes, and to allow
Your history and wisdom to help me as I make my way
Through life.
I love your touch, as you
Tuck my hair behind my ear, your kisses,
Hugs, your soft beautiful fingers.
I try, while forming my individuality, to model
Myself after you.
Your strength, independence, intelligence, drive,
Appreciation of all things beautiful.
To look at the world around me, always with
Conscious eyes.
To make sure my life is happy, filled with good things, to be good
To the people around me.

One thing I feel I cannot wholly convey
Is how much I love you.
It is so big, so unconditional
It cannot be described with words, it must be felt,
As I know you do. I thank you, for being
You.
And for all you have been for me
And to me.

Love, Vailia

07 - Blessings

Blessings

I periodically count my blessings and though I believe I have lived a charmed life I also know what is most important to me in that life. My children. That includes my in-law children and my grandchildren. They also are an extremely important part of my Reflections. My in-law children and my namesake, granddaughter Vailia, have brought wonder and joy into my life and have each written a letter that I cherish. I’m attaching their expressions of love to explain why I feel so blessed by having them in my life. These letters are very special to me. Each one is a treasure that is buried in my soul and will go on with me forever.

Vailia’s letter was the first I received. It was written for my birthday. She was only about 17 when she wrote it, she is now 27 and our relationship stays the same. I’ve written about her in earlier Reflections, I now will remember the tiny Vailia when she frequently came to Granny’s house for dinner. Everything was fine until her parents decided to go home. That’s when the problem began with Vailia crying, “I don’t want to go,” and the sad little voice made my heart break. Secretly, of course, I loved her wanting to stay with me… but I didn’t want her crying so hard. Eventually her father would pick her up, put her over his shoulder, with her little arms held toward me, as she cried, “Panny, Panny” (She had not yet been able to say Granny). One night, as they were leaving, I took her little hand in mine and began pretend crying. “Don’t cry, Panny,” she asked. “I won’t, if you won’t,” I replied. “I won’t.” she said sadly. She never did again… and I remained the only one left crying when my house was empty of Vailia.

David’s letter was next. He married my daughter Robin when he was very young. Young enough to know the pain of losing his mother when he was only thirteen years old. At nineteen he still needed a mother and I could fill that role. In spite of the fact that he wasn’t Jewish, which presented some problems, he touched my heart and we rapidly became parent and child. The problems of his not being Jewish brought about the normal concerns that parents feel with inter-religious marriages. How would the grandchildren be raised? What religion would they follow? How will we celebrate the holidays? Most important, I wanted to be able to take my grand- children to the temple. To be there when my grandson celebrated his Bar-Mitzvah or when my Vailia married under a Chupah. I wanted to share with them the importance of the Seder. But regardless of faith, David became Dov, my son. He would always stay “my son.”

Debby’s letter arrived later. She and my son, Bruce, just celebrated their 30^th Wedding Anniversary and I have had the delight of having her in my world all those years. For me Debby is the answered dream of every mother-in-law’s hope. I have watched her develop into a strong, compassionate, independent woman. I am so proud of her and her ability to cope with the occasional traumatic problems that have occurred during their marriage. She has risen above every difficulty with dignity and grace. It is true that our relationship was bumpy during the early years. I think that is probably so with most mothers and daughter-in-law’s early period of adjusting to each other. What it takes is a great deal of patience, understanding and willingness to grow. It doesn’t happen overnight, but when it does you are blessed with a very special relationship of a daughter-in-law who is also a dear daughter and your best friend.

The letters follow……..

06 - Computer Fear Syndrome

Computer Fear Syndrome

Don’t be alarmed if you are among the hundreds, maybe thousands, who are stricken by this syndrome. It appears to affect only those past fifty. Children are safe. They become immune to the disorder in the classroom. I, for one, am definitely afflicted.

It all began eight years ago when I said to my son, Bruce, “I think I should learn to use the computer. If children in the first grade can do it, I think your mother should be able to handle it.

A short time later, Bruce arrived with several items. A computer, with the item that I called a screen and he called a monitor and a black and white printer. (The color printer arrived, as a birthday present, two years later.) My wonderful son also arrived with a new jargon that blew my mind. No longer did I not only need to figure out how to operate the computer, I had to install, in my brain, a brand new language. And the seventy-eight year old brain said, “Hold It! I’m not sure I can handle this.”

That is when the fear syndrome set in. I thought, and expressed, that I was afraid to try new concepts because I might damage the computer. That really wasn’t the case at all, I was afraid that I couldn’t comprehend what I felt I should know. My mind, which remains bright enough in many ways, has simply not been programmed to absorb technical concepts. ‘Hello!! What do I do now,” I ask my mind and it replied “Think… Think… Think….” And I try, but I’m sure that the part of my brain, the part that relates to these computer facts, has never been properly developed. It’s not being stubborn. It’s the syndrome. The one that says, “You might not be able to understand.”

The truth is that I know enough about the computer to write my book, send and receive Emails, and access the Internet to search for whatever it is that I want to know. The truth also is that I may not be able to absorb, as I did when I was younger, too many instructions at one time. Plop! goes my brain after the second instruction and I’m sitting in a puddle of confusion. Then the poor brain doesn’t know what to do with me and sends the ‘Enough’ signal that say’s “We’ll try again later.”

I’ve really liked and respected my brain. There is some knowledge, some wisdom and some creativity. That keeps my life interesting. There also is a lack of formal education that at times confronts me when I run into something that I don’t understand. Present problem is that I’ve run into a huge wall with two web pages staring at me from the opposite side. Can’t seem to get to them and batting my head against that wall only causes a headache.

I had just begun to understand the web page Bruce installed for me. He did a great job, and I was able to access the information. The only problem is that, in some cases, those trying to access the page need to provide a pin number. New problem to confront. I’m wondering if this new problem thing is part of our technical advancement? It seems to appear with every new change.

To solve that problem, my special friend David arrived to install an impressive web page. I am now in the process of trying to figure out my directions for working with it. I was scribbling them on paper while David explained the process I would need to use. Now they make no sense. The address does read elegantly . . . vailia.blogspot.com . . . and I am delighted to have it in spite of the confusion. But I do feel as though I’m playing hopscotch with no squares written on the sidewalk.

Oh! Well! Slowly, very slowly, I will figure it out. That is what normally occurs. At that time, the part of me that is afraid that I can’t accomplish this concept will be put to sleep…..until the next computer fear syndrome finds a reason to exist.

05 - Changes

Week of June 4, 2005

Changes

I see many changes in both body and mind, and I wonder where I’m heading. The physical changes I can accept, even though I don’t like them. The body has crumpled earthward, leaving me only 4ft.10in. tall. That’s not a pretty sight, which is why I keep my terry-cloth robe close to the shower and reach for it before I have to pass the bathroom mirrors.

New wrinkles appear daily on the face that I now see in the mirror and I ask, “Who the heck are you?” Many brown spots cover my veined hands. But I’m really not depressed about these things. I just consider it the nasty part of growing old. What does concern me is how often I lose words.

I’ve always loved words and the way they are put together to create understanding and emotions and brilliant thoughts. I’ve clung to words all my life, fascinated by a sentence from the Rubaiyat or a saying from Confucius. I’ve delighted in Emerson’s poetry, the writings of Kahlil Gibran, Stevenson’s poems from my childhood and Alcott’s stories that added enchantment to my teen-age years.

Now I am loosing words. Struggling to bring them up and substituting when I’m not able to reach the right word. It’s come on rather slowly and I’ve termed it “that word thing” when I am talking to someone and I can’t respond correctly. It’s also showing up in other ways, like my use of the computer. Hesitation is frequent while I search for the right key. My thoughts are not as clear as they were.

I do have to admit that sometimes I have a sense of fear. Fearful that I will lose my ability to think and function as I always have. It is then that I must stop what I’m doing and remind myself of what l am still able to do. I bring to myself the thought that I am accomplishing more than many people my age. I remind me to be grateful for what I can do…like writing Reflections, maintaining my own life, enjoying my family and visitors when the arrive, loving and being loved, and above all knowing that I am in Gods hands. Thereby also knowing that I will be able to handle whatever He has chosen for me.

Still I wonder….and the song from “Paint your Wagon” enters my head.

“Where am I going…I don’t know
When will I get there….I'm not certain
All that I know is I am on my way”