Evolving Family Relationships

Reflecting on family relationships seems to be a common theme for people as they approach middle age – or before – and I was no exception to this practice.

When I was in my early-40s and my parents were in their mid-80s, I was coming to terms with the fact that, at some very sad time, I was going to lose them. Since my primary communication with my parents went through my mom, I started to wonder what would happen if she passed first?

Being that my parents were married – to each other – I’d often see both of them when I’d visit. The usual pattern was I’d hang out with my mom or go out to lunch with her while my dad usually went his own way, given I wasn’t interested in discussing politics or the law.

This would mean, if he outlived her, that he and I would have to learn to converse 1-on-1 in order to forge some kind of bond, the way that daughters of divorced parents have to do when they are thrust into a situation of dividing their time between parents.

I didn’t share this unsettling thought with anyone; I just revisited periodically and told myself I need to be prepared, should this scenario occur.

When my dad passed away 16 years ago – about 10 years before my mom died – I was able to put this matter to rest. I then turned my attention to the second issue that had popped up periodically in my head: Would the 4 siblings continue to have a relationship with each other, when our mom is gone?  

Recognizing parents as the glue that binds a family, it didn’t seem like a crazy question. We siblings had spent years with both parents and then only our mom celebrating birthdays, holidays and other occasions…if we weren’t physically together, we’d often be on the phone discussing them. What would we talk about once she passed, other than our memories of her?

Our first get together without her felt so awkward, I recall, without our matriarch to gather around but, over time, we rallied in the wake of our becoming orphans to learn that it’s up to us now to carry on as a family.

We have found plenty to yap about – even though conversation is still a bit heavy on Philadelphia politics – but with group texting threads, Zoom events, coming to the aid of one another as needed, small group gatherings and planning for more, the 4 siblings plus 4 in-laws have created a very strong and caring unit, all on our own.

These days, I find myself thinking about the next generation – our kids – and how they will handle relationships with one another once we are gone. One might say it’s more complicated for them, given there are step siblings in the mix, but this family model provides them with additional opportunities for close relationships, should they so choose to make the most of them.

I hope they do.

Game Set Match

What a fun, oftentimes tense tennis tournament the US Open was, filled with lots of twists and turns.

While I wouldn’t want such drama and mystery in my own life, on the court it’s highly entertaining. Sometimes I find it too emotional, as I struggle with a tendency to get attached to some female players for various reasons and then get all stressed out if a player I think should win or “deserves” to win ends up losing, which happens all the time. The lack of predictability in this game is mind-boggling.  

Before it started, I figured that the World No. 1 Ashleigh Barty or No. 2 player Aryna Sabalenka would come out on top. It didn’t seem like rocket science to make that assumption. But, early on, Barty was shockingly eliminated in an upset by Shelby Rogers, the No. 43 player, which left Sabalenka, in my mind, the likely champion.

She made it to the semi-finals, but she was beaten by the fairly unknown 19-year-old Leylah Fernandez, ranked No. 73. Surprisingly, Fernandez met another unknown, 18-year-old Emma Radacanu – a “qualifier” who had been ranked above 300 – and the 2 teen underdogs battled it out. In a highly competitive final, Radacanu was victorious. This win not only netted her $2.5 million but improved her ranking to No. 23.

I was thoroughly exhausted – emotionally and physically – by the time this tournament was over, and I know I wore David out with all my questions and constant assessments. While he is used to all the ups and downs in sports – being a Giants, Rangers, and Mets fan – this is all fairly new to me.

To help me keep it all in perspective, he offered 3 guidelines:

1 - No one “deserves” to win; view each game with a critical eye. This isn’t the place for the “Everyone deserves a trophy” mentality that I had as a young mom when my kids played sports or my feeling that one athlete should win because she had a longer history than the others and so the match means more to her, or because she’s going through a divorce, or has some emotional difficulties she’s trying to work through, yadda yadda. Athletes have to prove themselves with each and every game, with a true champion the one who can do this time and time again.

2 – Expect inconsistencies. Tennis players are on their own when they play in a singles match – there’s no hiding within or behind a team – and no one plays the same each time. They are impacted by all kinds of things like their physical and/or mental state, opponent, weather and so on. Some days a player can be incredible; the next day, she might not be able to get in any first serves.

3 – Get used to being disappointed. I shouldn't get so invested in a player that I feel too sad if she doesn’t win, because it’s going to happen over and over, and feeling down could cause me to lose interest in the game which would be unfortunate since it is the one sport I truly enjoy watching. 

I’m working hard to follow these tenets, but I can’t promise I’m not going to shed a tear if my favorite player loses in the next tournament.

Big Girl School

Our oldest grandchild, Eliana, will be 4 next month. Today, she entered a public Pre-K program near their home.

“I’m going to a ‘Big Girl School,’” she had said enthusiastically many times this summer. I had heard her parents refer to the Big Girl School too, and I assumed they coined it that to differentiate it from the preschool program where she had been enrolled.

Last week, with her first day approaching, I asked if she’s excited that that she’ll be making new friends with the boys and girls in her class.  

“Not boys,” she said, “Just girls.” 

“You don’t want to play with boys too?” I asked. “No,” she said emphatically.  

I’ve never seen Eliana not have fun with anyone, including her brother and older and younger male cousins, so her comments were a bit surprising.

And then it dawned on me after a few more go-arounds of this conversation that perhaps to Eliana, a Big Girl School meant a school just for girls, and that’s how she’s been picturing it.

So, I asked her: "Do you think your school is just for girls, NOT boys?” 

She looked sooooo relieved and said with all her Eliana charm, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Given that the program was set to begin shortly, I let her know she’d be going with boys too, so she wouldn’t be shocked and off her game when she saw them in her room.

Since she’s enjoyed going to school with boys and girls her whole little life, I think her resistance to boys now was due to the fact that the thought of them conflicted with her vision of life in her Big Girl School.

We happened to be babysitting for Eliana right after the Pre-K orientation, and she came over in great spirits. She told us that in her classroom she’ll be sitting in a group of 4, which will include a red-head girl named Emily, along with…2 boys.

And she was smiling, too!

Rosh Hashanah

With the Jewish New Year fast approaching, I am looking forward to the start of Rosh Hashanah, followed by Yom Kippur, so that I can tune in to High Holiday services going on at my synagogue…from home.

I’ll be streaming them on Zoom, just as I did last year, most likely with my eyes closed for a big part of the day. I might even appear to be dozing here and there, but it won’t be out of boredom.

It’ll be more like the trance I’ve experienced during my foray into Yoga, or how I picture the practice of mindfulness, which I’ve been told is all about eliminating distractions and instead focusing on the here and now. 

Attending virtually instead of physically will prevent the usual tug of war between my sight and hearing senses. It will allow me to indulge in my favorite aspect of religious services: the sound of prayer in its many forms.

I will close my eyes and listen to the soothing tone of the rabbi’s chanting, the chilling power of the cantor when he sings and the handful of inspiring congregants of all ages who have practiced really hard to learn a Torah portion – in Hebrew – to read aloud to the entire congregation.

At times, I’ll even channel the day’s thoughts to where they’re supposed to be: reflecting on the past year, repenting for wrongdoings, and also working toward a better version of myself for the upcoming year.   

However, I will also miss a lot by staying home, such as the lovely faces of my dear friends, the joy of watching multiple generations together and the very special memory of seeing where my former father-in-law would have sat if he were still with us.   

Shanah Tovah...Wishing You a Happy, Healthy and Peaceful New Year! 

Matthew

A few days ago, I read that in a city in Japan called Okinawa, there are over 900 people who have lived over 100 years.

This kind of impressive fact right now – as we approach the end of August – was a real shock to the system, given what was creeping up on the calendar.

Today – August 29, 2021 – is the 11^th anniversary of the passing of my stepson, Matthew Bandler Minches.

How is it conceivable that Matthew’s life abruptly ended when he was just 20 years old?

I am no further along with my “Why?” inquiries like “Why Matthew?” or “Why do bad things happen to good people?” or “Why take someone so young?” than I was when he got sick.

No matter how often I revisit these weighty questions in the hopes that they might lead me to experience internal peace, I have found no possible explanations mighty enough to stand up to such a heartbreaking and tragic loss.

A few days ago, I shared with David that my upcoming blog post would be about this longtime quest.

He was quick to respond that this is an impossible goal and that my efforts are futile. To make his point, he likened the emotions of Matthew’s passing to a person who has lost his or her leg. Whether it’s Day 1 or 1,000 or 10 or 20 years later, there are times when one forgets the loss and moves along in a “normal” way…but always returns to the reminder of the loss and sometimes it is just as painful as Day 1. He also said he knows that any good feeling is temporary.

He has shared with others who have suffered similar losses that the pain never goes away and that “you just have to learn to live with it.”  

Knowing David as I do, he has done a pretty good job of that.

Luckily, we have many memories that make us smile and one in particular always makes me laugh. I know I’ve shared it before, but it’s a special Sunday memory, and since today is Sunday, I can’t resist.

The Sunday rule that Matthew and I enforced was that David couldn’t say anything negative. I wouldn’t describe him as a negative person, but he’s a realist, and unfortunately a lot of topics we discussed led to his negative comments. However, Sundays were the one day that he had to refrain.

When he slipped, which happened often, Matthew would call him out on it. I can still recall those exchanges in my mind. 

He did this with such joy.

A Salty Situation

A comment on my neighborhood Facebook group about a salty veggie burger at a local restaurant sparked a heated exchange among readers.  

The original poster said that she and her husband went out to lunch at a popular eatery. At first, she felt her burger was excellent – the best she’d ever had – but, as she continued to eat, she became aware of how salty it was. She said that salt is a concern for them “and may be for you.” Her last sentence was that her husband’s fish sandwich was "not at all salty.”

There were 93 comments on this post within a 24-hour period.   

Most responses fell into 3 categories: 1 – praise for the restaurant, including kudos for their caramelized cauliflower and potato skin appetizers; 2 – appreciation for the information from those who watch their salt intake; and 3 – debate about whether the original poster should have taken to Facebook/social media to talk about her salty burger.   

One individual also suggested that the moderator was at fault for approving the post, stating that it could potentially harm the business.  

This Facebook group was created years ago to act as a forum for locals to publicize “a good meal or a favorite restaurant, a business opening or closing, a fun activity to do, a yard sale” and so on. The essence of this group as I have viewed it all along is to support local businesses and bring the community together as we go through our lives in the same general vicinity.

It’s a very active group with a lot of exposure; there are continual requests for recommendations for everything from where to take your dog for grooming to dermatologists to restaurants, as well as all other matters pertaining to Cherry Hill.

It is moderated by a seemingly level-headed, positive guy who lives and works in the area – he’s a business owner himself – and whose good intentions shine through everything he writes. 

Responding to the poster who said the original comment about saltiness should not have been allowed, the moderator said the woman who posted about her experience is kind-hearted and genuinely wanted to provide information that could help others. He also stated that she was in no way bashing the restaurant and that all this buzz – with the ensuing plethora of positive comments – could in fact increase their business.

My reaction to the original post differed from his; I summed it up as a negative post that was not in the spirit of the Facebook group that is supposed to highlight the positive. While she did say she initially felt her burger was delicious, I think her comment about the saltiness combined with it being a problem for her and that it could be for others negated the compliment and instead cast an unfavorable light on the meal and, therefore, the restaurant.

This, coupled with the fact that her opinion was unsolicited, made me feel that talking about it on a Facebook group of 17,000+ members was not necessary; Yelp or Trip Advisor or other social media platforms designed for restaurant reviews would have been better choices if she felt she had to share her experience, but perhaps there was no need to do this at all. 

David felt differently than I did; he agreed with the moderator that this was NOT a negative post and that it was good information to know. As someone who often orders veggie burgers, he was glad to be given the head’s up so that if he does go there, he would probably not order one; however, he was impressed by the enthusiasm of other menu items and is now interested in checking out the place.    

While neither one of us would have written the post – we wouldn’t want to be the seed for starting a thread which might be viewed as damaging – David did say he would respond to a question about a particular business even if the answer wasn’t positive. I’m not sure I would; in fact, I probably wouldn’t.

Here is my question for tonight: How should we view social media and on-line groups?

If I was engaging with a group of friends, I would always be honest about a business or meal. Are these groups an extension of “friends” or should they be viewed with more caution? Honestly, I am not sure where I fall on this question. While I don’t want to see a business fail due to online comments that aren’t really vetted or verified, having feedback about an establishment can be invaluable.

What do you think?

 

 

 

 

Jean

Girls can make each other feel great…or like crap.  

A day trip last week to Ocean City with my 28-year-old daughter Amy was filled with conversation about a variety of things, including the power that girls – and women – possess that can dramatically impact one other.

We found ourselves exchanging stories about when we’ve been dumped without there being a known cause to warrant that, and how bad it felt at the time.  

Our stories were similar, but hers involved a couple groups of girls who collectively turned their backs on her while my experiences focused on individuals who did that, with one super memorable situation occurring when I was in junior high, about 50 years ago.

I met Jean as I started 7^th grade – our first year in the school – when we were assigned seats near each other in homeroom because my last name started with C and her name with a D. I was so happy to make that early connection in large part because I didn't know many others at the school, other than for my lifelong friend Bonnie who got involved with chorus early on and my other new (and now old) friend Marilyn, who sat in front of me in English class.  

Jean and I hung out a lot that year and, because she lived nearby, we went to her house quite often after school. We also talked on the phone at night and on weekends and shared lots of secrets about the boys we had crushes on, dissecting every word they ever said to us.

On the first day of 8^th grade, as I was sitting at my desk eager for Jean to arrive so we could resume where we left off a couple of months before – we hadn’t seen each other much since school let out in June – there was a sudden stillness in the room: a very LOUD silence, as she entered.

W O A…she was NOT the Jean I knew! This NEW Jean had a super stylish feathered haircut, she was wearing make-up, she shed her glasses, her braces came off and she had a whole new and fashionable – as in tight – wardrobe that accentuated her fabulous figure. While I may have seen bits and pieces of the transformation that occurred during the summer, I did not witness the full picture until that moment.      

I also realized she appeared to have the attitude that went along with it all which, sadly, simultaneously signaled the end of our friendship. Jean had become “cool” and chose to spend her time with others like herself who were known as the popular kids.

In retrospect, I wonder if she stopped talking to me and that explained why we weren’t friends anymore or if I felt too intimidated by her new persona that I stopped wanting to be with her. I think it was the former that occurred, because I can recall feeling rejected…but emotions are complicated, especially to make sense of them when we didn’t have the self-awareness to dig deep into our feelings. We were, after all, in our early teens, when everything was in a muddied state; most of all, our hormones and sense of self.

Every now and then I wonder if what I think happened is what she thinks happened…if she ever gave us any thought at all.

Strangely enough, Jean’s childhood home is on the same city block as my dentist, so I find myself reflecting on this friendship every time I get my teeth cleaned. I always look at her house as I pass by, wondering if I will see her walking around – and what if anything I’d say if I did.   

Lately I’ve been extra curious about Jean, so I decided to check her out on Facebook. After some digging for her last name, I was able to locate her on social media. She actually looked similar to how she did in 8^th grade, although there was no entry newer than 2017. I googled her again and found a phone number, but I haven’t called it.

Some people believe that once something is “over,” it should remain in the past. I’m often ok with opening the door a second time, but given we were friends for just 1 of my 61+ years, I’m not sure this idea makes any sense.

It is bizarre to think that while I’ve given her a good amount of thought for a half century, she might not even remember me.