The Joy In the Ordinary Business of Living

Tomatoes and peppers and green beans haunt me in my dreams lately. I am elbows deep in the business of picking these little gifts of our farm, only to have my hubby plunge them into pickling juices or olive oil or pulverize them into a freezable concoction to be used in the dead of winter. Messy? Yes? Tasty and worth it? YES! We may sell the rest of the peppers at the local flea on Wedsnesdays and then from there- donate to our local shelters.

My show schedule is about to heat up again and I have finished my supply inventory purchases. I still cannot believe that I am plugging away after over 40 years in show business. I feel old and I ache on occasion. What used to take me about 1 night post show recovery now takes my 2. I peel off my sweaty clothes and pop into the shower then don my grandma nighties and fuzzy slippers- hubby always laughs at me once I get into this mode. But grandma nighties are responisble for populating Europe, so it may not be exactly Vicroria's Secret, but maybe more like the secret of Russian Ukrainian babushkas!

Enough fertility nonsense...

I am finally emerging from the cocoon of mourning for my mother, who died unexpectedly. I am starting to feel normal and am limited to about 1 good cry in the shower about once or twice a week. I am gathering my father is adjusting too, but I think he gets very lonely for his companion of 60 plus years. I bet she visits him a lot whilst he putters around making his tea, and shuffling off to the gold course to play with other guys in their 80s and 90s. I think Dad will outlive us all honestly. He will probably live to 120 and have his puss on TV and shake the president's hand. I always find that do amusing that people get congratulated for living a long time. Like, hey you didn't get run over by a truck and you did not catch a rare tropical disease to you win a prize!

Dad is busy trying to deal with all the gals who sidle on over with their innocent casseroles and desserts. They wil eventually figure out that that man in only into super smart cookies, not ones that can bake or keep a tidy house. My mother was none of those, but definately the smartest of cookies. We are helping him dig out from under the paperwork, the banking problems, the bills to be paid, the taxes to be figured out, etc. One thing for sure is that today's world which is all virtual and online, is not friendly to older folks with no patience and who do not trust the robots, only bank tellers. My dad insisted on paying the phone bill in person, so he drove to the phone company. I can't even.

As for me I am busy living. Taking the small joys in Shoprite when shopping for a breakfast treat. Looking for new creamers to try. Getting a deal at CVS and picking up allergy meds for hubby. Getting gas for ye olde Subaru. Taking a walk in the park. Just normal everyday things. Boring is good after so much excitement and I am enjoying every minute.

Happy Summer Solstice!

The days are longer and it stays light until about 8:30pm here. I love looking at the fireflies at dusk and the hummingbirds are just humming along at our feeders in those lazy afternoons. Crazy hubby

has put up at least 6 bird feeders. He really loves to make the birdies happy! He also put in another fishtank, and we recently took a trip to the store to buy a few finned friends. I swear he od'ed on Mutual of Omaha as a kid on Sunday evenings, just like I did.

Life is settling down a bit finally. Mom, Gd rest her soul, was a saint. She was amazing and was very much the glue that connected the old-world generation to us. We had a Father's Day Barbeque in my cousin, Mark's backyard and it was just classic. Lots of conversation, some of the crowd swam in their pool, and a perfect evening where no one wanted to leave. The food was terrific and I really enjoyed a rare glass of wine. My cousins all knew the heartbreak I had endured and despite trying so hard to keep things light, there just was that heaviness in knowing Mom was not there to enjoy those stupid burnt hotdogs, chasing it was some good cold chardonnay. I had some for her, and I hope she enjoyed the wine as much as I did. As usual, the more intellectual of the crowd ran toward me and engaged me to talk politics and religion, because nothing really upsets me and I do enjoy a good meaningful disagreement every now and then. Hubby stayed in the background, which he tends to do anyhow. Probably thinking far away thoughts like where to put up even more bird feeders and fish tanks.

Our garden is producing a bumper crop of lettuce and I slowly turning into a rabbit. We are also having fun with our pea plants which are, well, pea-ing nicely this summer. Out tomatoes are starting to tomato, but those won't be ready for a few weeks yet. Oh, I cannot wait to eat those tomato sandwiches! Also, new on the (hah!) bucket list was our new plantings of Raspberries, in the new "fruit orchard". Those, with luck, will be ready to harvest in a week or so. I plan on making Raspberry preserves and can them if not then eat them. We transferred the pepper plants into the garden and I hope to transfer the basil plants as well. Lots going on in Gorby Farms.

I just got word that Mizz Thang lives with a cat now. She is thrilled. We are not. However, I highly doubt that I will be sleeping over again in Oberlin any time soon, and it is her pal's cat, and thank goodness the landlord was ok with it. She loves her house, her friends, and now the cat. Oberlin is better for it all. She has another 2 years to go, and I hope that she stays healthy and happy.

Mr. Sonnyboy returned from traipsing all over Europe but based in Denmark. He is at Richmond and squirreling away his money while he applies for scholarships. I think he may stand a good chance of something like a Fulbright or Luce etc. Pretty soon he will look forward to applying to grad schools, but that is yet to be seen. He seems pretty jazzed about the future, other than possibly AI wiping out human progress and all of humanity, but them's the breaks kids...

Life is not the same without Mom, but it does go on,, and I have reopened the studio, I am back to "show business", and I made the hard decision to stop doing wholesale as there just is no room for profit. It is a positive move and a realistic one. I am in quasi retirement, and this also creates more space for me to travel and enjoy my family, instead of living out of a suitcase all the time. Trust me, after 30 years of that, you would be thrilled not to do that.

An end of an era

My mother passed away unexpectedly 2/4/26 at 10:30pm. She was about to enter hospice care, but didn't even make it to that point.

It began innocently enough. She had the flu, and so did my dad. This all was happening while we were winding up our 25th anniversary trip to Hawaii on Kawaii. We flew to CA, and were supposed to spend 2 more weeks there, but received that dreaded phone call no one want to hear:" Hop on the next plane and come home immediately," my poor Dad gargled long distance. We flew back the next day, and just in time for a huge snowstorm making its way across the US. Our plane was the last one to depart from Phoenix, our stop, and our pilot bravely navigated our tin can above the storm. We landed safely and everyone on the plane clapped with relief. It was a miracle that we got there. Loads of planes were cancelled and we were lucky to make it out of there without any problems.

The problems, of course, were waiting for us. Mom had been in the hospital in NJ for 2 weeks already and we ran up there after the storm dumped tons of snow in the Northeast. I got there in time to speak to her, and while very unwell, she was able to talk to me for some time, and had a lucid conversation with us. Despite the doctor's best efforts, she contracted an infection had pancreatitis, several strokes, and 2 heart attacks. At this point, she was discharged into the nursing wing of my Dad's new spot in an assisted living location. She hung on for a few more days, fading away, and at a certain point, while she was barely conscious, I had to have her agree to a DNR, which she did. She did have her marbles, but was ready to go. My daughter managed to make a phone call to her from college, telling her how much she was loved and how she was going to work very hard to become a doctor. My son, lost somewhere in Sweden, was unreachable at that point. We did not tell him until later.  

She was worn out, and death came quickly and quietly. I was there holding her hand with my hubby, until about 8:30pm when we told her we would see her tomorrow first thing. We were exhausted, and had no idea that she would be gone after we spent all day with her. i was grateful for that amount of time, and she knew that we were there. They say the last thing to go is hearing, so I am sure she knew how sad we were to see her go. I said that if her sister, my Aunt Bobbie, was there, to go with her. She would see her mom and dad, her cousins, her uncle and aunt, all beloved family members. I know that some traditions call this time, a"home-going", and this is quite accurate. I hoped that they welcomed her some good scotch, burnt hot dogs, and melted ice cream, her favorite things in the world.

At 10:30, we received the call from the staff nurse that mom had died. She was having a lot of trouble breathing, and I was honestly relived that she was at peace. I just wished I was with her at that moment. The nurse weirdly announced that we had to "get the body (!) in 4 hours". I was so offended and upset, but held my breath. I called the funeral home, and they were so kind. They took mom and asked us to bring a quilt and put the word out. They called the cemetery, and everything was set in motion. In the Jewish faith, you are supposed to have a burial in 48 hours or less, but due to the snow and the weekend, we had to wait until the following Tuesday. Mom was buried 2/11 on a grey day with sleet at the mausoleum. I said my first Kaddish, the prayer for mourning. I could barely get through it. Dad and I called everyone we could and I put it out there bold as brass on my Facebook page. Word spread and we had a lovely turnout. Relatives that I had not seen in 30 years were there. Coworkers from my mom's NYC Ad Agency days, temple folks, neighbors, friends, and others came to support. My cousins held the Shiva (like a Jewish wake), and several people from my temple in PA came up to support, and eat good Jewish deli, a rare thing in the wilds of PA.

Once we returned back home to PA, we had to deal with my dad who was barely functioning as his partner of over 60 years was gone. They new apartment they had chosen together felt hollow and empty. It was beautiful with the snow on the ground and the leaded windows, but empty without her smiling presence. My dad decorated with huge amounts of paperwork and notepads and half empty ink pens. He accented this with paper coffee cups and a donut box. I was tasked with getting my mothers clothing sorted and given away, a mammoth task. I was amazed that despite my mother's taste for chic simple clothing, her clothing that I gathered was mostly worn, pilled, stained, and 30 years old. I was shocked that she never threw anything away. Her makeup was there and was from the 1970s. I took anything that I knew could use a home and the rest I gave away to charity. Putting things of my mom's that I remember her wearing into a charity bin was a feat of emotional endurance. At that moment, I could see how people become hoarders: Never letting go of emotions that are tied up in worldly things.

This month has been the most difficult of my life. Between my parents' move, my mother's death, and the chaos that ensues over a complicated life taken away suddenly, I am looking forward to turning the page and seeing the daffodils and forsythia bloom in a show of healing and joy.