SHABBAT IN JERUSALEM – HATS – AND SHABBAT SHALOM

Ruthie_and_naomi_tightThese two lovelies, Ruthie (R) and Naomi (L), run a wonderful hat shop on King George St. in Jerusalem (#14  if you want to stop by…)  I met them last year and loved both the hats (if you live an observant life you wear a hat to services and many women wear them all or almost all the time) and the two of them.  A women-owned, sister-run company, their shop is my favorite – partly because Ruthie works on the hats right there in front of us – but also because they are such a great story. 

What better day than Shabbat to think about two wonderful women making us happy to wear our hats to shul?  I took two friends with me when I went there this time and among us I think we bought five hats!  Here’s mine:

Le_hat
A little stardust never hurt anyone, right?  I really love it and am now going to have to demonstrate enormous discipline by waiting until spring to wear it.  Let’s hear it for the girls, right?  And Shabbat Shalom. 

NOTE: this post was created Thursday night and set to be posted on Saturday morning.  NO WORK on it was done on Shabbat.

JULIE’S SHOWER: WHO EVER THOUGHT RAISING SONS WOULD BE SO GREAT!

Running_kidsOK so I grew up with sisters.  And I went to a women’s college.  And most of my life I’ve worked in offices with more women than men (amazing, no?)  So, when I was pregnant I was terrified at the idea of having boys.  They were so strange — so noisy — I had no idea what was coming.  Except that what was coming was Josh. And then Dan.  And it turned out that — hang on sisters — boys are a blast, great company, luuuhhhv their moms and — boys are easier!  I know this because I’ve watched my friends raising daughters and the tensions are fierce.  Girls and their mothers — boys and their dads.  Not easy.

But let’s get back to basics.  Little boys run around a lot and make noise.  They jump off things.  They ride the dog around and fall off and hit their heads and need stitches.  They, later, seem to be trying to kill each other much of the time.  And before I go any further – let me tell you that there’s an old shrink saying that therapists never believe that babies are born with personalities until they have their second child.  This is also true with many women regarding gender differences – it hits you once they show up.  My kids are feminists and very good to the women in their lives as far as I can tell – but they are men and they were boys and that is not like being a girl.  Nope.

I have great memories from when they were little – stomping around singing Free to Be and Da Doo Ron Ron Ron and The Garden Song and Abiyoyo, skiing down black diamond slopes and going to Yankee Stadium to see Billy Joel and Carnegie Hall to see Pete Seeger and Madison Square Garden to see Sesame Street on Ice and being dragged to an infinite number of Police Academy and other disgusting movies.

And I lived in alien space much of the time.  Some of our hit toys (ie things I would NEVER have had in my house if there were not these strange male creatures inhabiting the premises — and pre-video game age of course):
One of those Radio Shack electronics build-your-own thingy kits that make bells ring and bulbs light up if you hook them up correctly.
Legos
Anything aviationary
Anything Star Wars
Anything GI Joe
Voltron
Weird wrestling stuff (boy did I fight that one!)
Folk music (that’s my fault though)
Baseball cards  (and proudly, I did NOT throw them out)
Stuffed animals
Ernie

No  Mary Poppins books (I tried) but I did get to read all The Great Brain and Ralph S Mouse and Timothy Goes to School and a gazillion baseball player bios.

There’s serious stuff to having sons, of course.  We have to be sure, no matter how much we love hanging around with them, that they get enough alone time with their dads or some other male figure.  And wave bravely as they off together on a Sunday (also your day off after all) without you.  We have to accept and celebrate the guy stuff.

Just like girls, but differently, we have to let them know we think they can take care of themselves – enable independence at each landmark, if we think they can handle it, even when we really want to help.  It’s so easy, with a boy, to want to remain more connected than is useful for them as they grow.  At certain points they may pull back for a while, when they need to untangle.  We have to let them and respect the struggle

With regard to respect for women – I am deeply impressed with my sons’ perspectives.  I hope that being honest and respecting their developing attitudes, helped.  I never threw a Playboy out of our house but I made it very clear how I felt about them in the (brief) period they were around.  Anything like that, of which I (or my husband) disapproved, had to come out of their allowance.  They had to put their money on the line – and I think that helped more than locking it all out of the house and pretending they weren’t interested.  It also helped us understand where their heads were.  Although that is easier for boys because they are, honestly, more straightforward.

Of course none of what I write here applies to all boys.  Much of it may apply to plenty of girls.  But it was my experience and in a kind of stream of consciousness baby shower kind of way it’s what rose to the top.   The bottom line though, is that even though it’s scary if you’ve lived in a world of women, as I had, they are just wonderful.  Most of all, because I know Julie, from reading your blog for so long, you  would be a great mother to any child with whom you were blessed, this kid is in for a great life.   And where advice is concerned, I say take it only as far as your gifted mother gut takes you.  Where the two collide, trust yourself.  Girl, boy or android, that way your little one will always be in the right hands.

CITY LIGHTS BOOKS, SAN FRANCISCO AND MY LOVELY SONS

Citylights_night_2When I was in high school this was one of the places I dreamed of coming:  San Francisco’s City Lights Bookstore.  Far from my home in Pittsburgh, arty, intellectual and free.  Ironic then that all these years later I’m here, usually, to visit sons ten years older than I was when I set my sights on Greenwich Village or Bloomsbury. . . or San Francisco. 

One lives here; the other’s girlfriend lives here so he pretty much commutes here from Seattle.  It’s a perfect place to meet and spend the holidays.  We came out for Thanksgiving and are here again, this time since Christmas day.

It’s been lovely, if a bit stressful: a new girlfriend for our younger one – we had dinner with her – and the pressure that comes from wanting infrequent visits to go well.  At best we see one another every couple of months; both boys wish we lived closer which makes me feel good but it’s tough that we don’t — and have not much prospect of ever moving this direction. 

Now it’s our last day and the usual burgeoning lump in the throat has appeared.  Both boys have been genuinely happy to be with us and have ditched their calendars to spend the week with us.  I’m very grateful for their attention – they think I’m nuts and say of course they want to be with us.  For some reason this astonishes me.  We do have fun – jabbering about everything from Benazir Bhutto to series television.  Lots of laughter and the additional delight of seeing the boys and Josh’s friend Amy laughing and enjoying one another’s company.  But as the time comes to leave, board the plane and fly back to our DC lives, a determined sadness permeates even the happiest of moments.  I once interviewed Naomi Foner, mother to Maggie and Jake Gyllenhaal and the woman who wrote Running on Empty, a film about children leaving home in a particularly profound and complete way.  "Parenthood is the only job" she told me, "where you measure success by how well you say goodbye." 

Little_in_snow_hug
Manifestly, we’ve done that well.  Our boys are strong, self-sufficient, productive men who are friends to one another and love their parents.  They know we’re here but know too that they can take care of themselves.  In that way, we’d be defined as successful.  But.  But.  No matter how proud I am, how grateful for their strength and wisdom, humor and goodness, I miss them. 

They are the treasures of my days and will always be, and the physical distance that prevents an easy Sunday afternoon movie or Chinese dinner and makes every visit an event is always a painful reality. 

I’ll deal with it and so will they.  It’s the way things are – and it’s certainly better to want them more than we see them than to have them sigh with relief when we leave for the airport.  And whether we’re there or not, their lives are rich and often joyful.  And so, I tell myself, at least when I’m missing them, I know they’ve become the men I would have wished them to be – for their sakes, not ours.  And that’s a lot.  It doesn’t put them here next to me — but it does send with me a quiet peace amid the sadness.  That’s really all I can – or should – travel with.  The rest — working toward and achieving what they want from their lives and moving forward in the world — belongs, as it should, to them.

Happy New Year.

 

CALIFORNIA DREAMIN’ – SAN FRANCISCO SCENES YOU MIGHT HAVE MISSED

Monkey_in_stroller_2
We’re here to visit our remarkable,wonderful sons and having a lovely time – hence the virtual radio silence here.  Some things though, you need to share – even during a family vacation.

First of all, you always know when you come to San Francisco that you’ll see things that might elude you elsewhere, but this one is spectacular even for the capital of Blue State America.  This little guy is wearing a shirt that says "Don’t pat me, I’m working."  He’s apparently an assistance animal but we were damned if we could figure out what he was assisting in doing…   besides wheeling through Chinatown making friends.

Vegan_chinese_2
Lucky Revolution Vegan Chinese Restaurant (outside of which the Monkey rolled past us.)   Great combination fried rice and hotpot eggplant, too

826_valencia_3
This is the site of Dave Eggars‘ tutorial project 826 Valencia, now expanding to other cities.  Author of A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, founder of McSweeney’s publishing and The Believer magazine, he’s built a place to effectively teach writing and communication to underserved kids.  It’s embarrassing to wander in, thinking oneself fairly cool for knowing to come here — and to discover — a gift shop!  Clearly Eggars and his crew have built something very attractive — and become a tourist attraction.

Shades_of_future_past
One block from 826 Valencia and across the street, this blast from the past — windows jammed with anti-war and other political messages.  This is not, of course, limited to San Francisco, especially these days, but it just seems so at home here.

Yesterday my husband announced that he had a surprise for me – and dragged me out of the hotel for breakfast.  Next thing I knew, we were aboard a cable car for the first time since somewhere around 1971, right after we got married and came to Stanford for him to finish school.  It was a great ride on a rainy morning.

Lombard_street_2
We passed this – the top of Lombard Street, San Francisco’s zig-zaggiest.

Buena_vista_door_tight

And ended up here – at the famous Buena Vista Cafe.  Famous as the place that invented Irish Coffee, across the street from the end of the cable car line and just above Fishermen’s Wharf, it’s a true landmark a place we used to love.  It was so great to return and sit by the window watching this city’s every-changing tourist scene.  On this corner, it could still have been 1971 when we first came here.  There’s something lovely about a return like this especially when it’s a gift.  My sweet husband triumphant once again… 36 years after our first visit!

More pix soon.  Goodnight for now.

NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY: ROBERT FROST, YEAR’S END, AND FAMILIES

Robert_frost_4 Nothing ever stays still, does it?  I remember a Robert Frost poem we read in high school – Nothing Gold Can Stay:

Nature’s first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf’s a flower,

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.

Nothing gold can stay.

As this year draws to a close, I’m so aware of the rocky ride between joy and pain that life brings us.  Children succeed and are happy; suffer, argue, question and, as adults, make huge decisions whose consequences are no longer our business.  Others we love face illness, work stresses and moments of spiritual angst.  And we ourselves struggle. With our own pain.  With the knowledge that the best times — the gold — never last and must be cherished for the time we have them.  And with the realization that the job of parent includes a form of built-in obsolescence, that rescuing, even those we love, is not always a gift to those we try to help.

I’m still learning how to be the mother of grown men.  They have been and continue to be a joy to me but  the best gift I can give them, struggle to give them, is to be available but never more than that.  I’ve done pretty well, but in moments when I worry – health issues, love issues, work issues, life-changing issues – I have to hold my breath and hope.  To remember that over the years we’ve provided one another with many moments of "something gold" and that now, as their parents have, they must pass through their own moments of sublime and ridiculous, gold and dross. 

There’s an old saying that "you’re never happier than your least happy child."  I struggle not to allow that to be true.  The best gift I can give our boys – and for that matter my husband as well – is to separate, to trust them in their journeys and crises, joys and troubles.  To love them, listen to them, and respect them enough to allow them to live their own golden moments and mourn their loss – hopefully with enough experience over the years to understand that even as a moment of joy departs, another is forming just around the bend.

 

 

A PLACE FOR EVERY JEWISH GIRL

Judah6_girls_blur_croppedThis weekend was a special one at our synagogue: our semi-annual "Makom shabbaton." Makom means place, and the program, initiated by someone I greatly admire and sponsored in part by a local Jewish women’s foundation,  works to help young girls find a place in the complicated world of Orthodox Judaism.  Clearly, given the divided seating and prohibitions on certain kinds of participation, it’s a difficult undertaking, but the concept, and execution, of this project are exemplary.

Today girls in the third, fourth and fifth grade stood before the entire congregation and delivered commentary on the Torah reading for this morning, which was Va-Yiggash, the story of the reconciliation between Joseph and the brothers who sold him into slavery.  It’s complicated stuff, but with the help of their spectacular teacher, they made wonderful sense of it.  Why didn’t Joseph tell his dad he was OK for all those 20+ years?  Why did he hide a cup in his little brother’s bag of grain, and "frame" him as a thief?  Why, in big brother Judah’s pleas to Joseph for mercy, did he mention their father 14 times?  In the  mini-sermons given today those questions, and more, were answered.

I wish you could have seen these little girls (really, 9-12 years old) stand in front of a huge sanctuary and speak in clear, confident voices, retelling bits of the story, citing commentators and making their points.  It was thrilling.   

There’s lots more to do for both girls and grown women in the Orthodox world, but days like today, and the growth of groups like the Jewish Orthodox Feminist Alliance encourage optimism.  Of course here I am, only four years into life as a somewhat – more and more – Orthodox woman -and already ready to join the revolution. [What else is new? ]

The women (and men) who are part of this movement are smart  religious activists and it’s an inspiring community indeed.  What happened today is emblematic of their commitment to bringing more and more equity to the lives of religious Jewish women and in the process they are building a remarkable constituency and setting an amazing example for women (and men )from six to sixty and beyond.

PREVENTING SPOUSAL ABUSE; HONORING THOSE WHO HELP

Nat_aliza_officeSometimes a common event can remind you of the wonderful ways that others find to live their lives and help others.  Tonight we went to a benefit for a group that helps Jewish women trapped in abusive relationships; it’s call the Jewish Coalition Against Domestic Abuse.  We went because a good friend chairs the group, but also because they were honoring a remarkable pair of lawyers: Nathaniel "Nat" Lewin  and his daughter Alyza Lewin .  Together they are the law firm of Lewin & Lewin LLP . This article in Jewish Week Magazine describes them beautifully.

Nat_aliza_two_shot2
Nat has an impressive history; it was kind of thrilling to see him honored and hear him speak so beautifully and lovingly of his lawyer daughter, his photographer daughter, his wife and grandkids, then to hear Alyza thank her parents, her husband, her sister, her kids and her nanny, all of whom were there. 

She described her memory of having "the talk" with her mom early in her adolescence — not "the talk" talk – but one at least as important.  Her mother, she said, told her to be economically self-sufficient, AND to never let her work keep her from getting married and having children, Then, she continued, half joking, her mother said "These two things, they conflict.  So now maybe it will be easier because I told you."  Everyone laughed, mostly with recognition.  We all know that clash and live with it.   

Most moms have a connection with their kids, begun physically of course, before birth that continues in a way that makes leaving them to go to work tough.  We were probably hard-wired that way.  When I saw this mother of four describing her mother’s warning and her subsequent efforts to be mother and powerhouse attorney, I thought about so many women — those law school pioneers terrorized in class and shut out of study groups, med students thrown out of operating rooms because they were too germy to be there without pantyhose (true story), women reporters shut out of the Radio TV Correspondent’s dinner unless they came as "hostesses."  We’ve all come a long way, and clearly Alyza Lewin, through her work, with her dad, on Jewish issues, is using the progress we made to help others.  As Jewish Week wrote:  "That’s meant
everything from representing apartment tenants whose landlords won’t
allow them to hang a mezuzah, to assisting government employees having
trouble getting their security clearances renewed because of family
ties to Israel, to helping rabbis ensure menorot can be displayed on
public property during Chanukah." 

She comes by it naturally.  Her dad, when he spoke, didn’t say much about his track record as an attorney – he didn’t need to.  Again, the profile;

Combining his time as an assistant to the
solicitor general and private practice, he’s argued 27 cases in front of the
Supreme Court. And his daughter notes that there is no legal issue relating to
the Jewish community that doesn’t have his "fingerprints" on it. ..
he drafted the provision of the Civil Rights Act that protects one’s religious
observance or practice. Later in the decade, he wrote legislation that allowed
federal workers to work "compensatory time" if they wanted to get
time off to observe religious holidays. … Lewin is still trying to create further protection for religious liberty.  The firm has taken up the case, on appeal,  of a Jewish parole officer in New York whose employer pressured him not to observe religious holidays by scheduling
mandatory meetings and training sessions on those dates. They are arguing that
the plaintiff faced a "hostile work environment"
similar to the kind of environment considered actionable for sexual harassment and
that the courts should recognize such a standard for religious practice.

Before forming Lewin and Lewin, Nathan Lewin was
a founding partner at Miller, Cassidy, Larocca & Lewin. Among his most
well-known clients was Ed Meese, when the Reagan administration attorney
general was the subject of an independent counsel investigation over charges of
influence peddling. …

U.S.dLewin also was actress Jodie Foster’s lawyer
when she testified during the trial of John Hinckley for the shooting of
President Ronald Reagan. In 1975, Lewin represented John Lennon on an appeal of
a US   decision to deport
him because of his previous conviction on drug possession charges in Great Britain.
Lewin said he never met the Beatle, having been recruited to handle the appeal
through Lennon’s lawyer. And he joked that he probably shouldn’t have cashed
the check Lennon sent him to pay for his services because the
autograph on it probably ended up being more valuable.

The Lewins currently …are working on a number of
other Jewish-related cases, such as the Boim case, in which, on behalf of a
victim of a Hamas terrorist attack in Israel, they successfully sued the Holy Land Foundation and two other U.S. charities for providing funding to the terrorist organization.  They are waiting for the results of an appeal but the legal theory they devleloped has been adopted by a number of other terror victims since.

So.  They deserved the honor.  The issue is horrifying – the "Jews don’t do that sort of thing" myth decimated – like the lives of so many of the women JACADA works to help.  The biggest reward for me though was to listen to this accomplished, unassuming and loving daughter tell her story and speak with such colleagial regard for her father.  It’s how things should be.  And so seldom are.
 

 

LAST OF THE LEAVES, LAST OF NABLOPOMO, HARRY CHAPIN AND LIFE

Autumn_2007I can see this out my office window.  In a couple of months it will be silvery with snow.  Months after that, long after these last end-of-autumn  leaves have fallen, new ones will bud in their place, and there will be a riot of color once again  — this time with blossoms.

I titled a post a few months ago "ALL MY LIFE’S A CIRCLE, SUNRISE TO SUNDOWN" as I wrote about a beautiful Bar Mitzvah.  For some reason, I’m feeling that way today.  Listen to Harry Chapin’s wonderful words:
All my life’s a circle
Sunrise and sundown
Moon rolls through the night time
Till daybreak comes around
All my life’s a circle
Still I wonder why
Season spinning ’round again
Years keep rolling by.

Seems like I’ve been here before
Can’t remember when
I got this funny feeling
We’ll all be together again
No straight lines make up my life
All my roads have bends
No clear cut beginnings
So far no dead ends.
CHORUS
I’ve met you a thousand times
I guess you’ve done the same
Then we lose each other
It’s like a children’s game
But now I find you here again
The thought comes to my mind
Our love is like a circle
Let’s go ’round one more time.

All my life’s a circle
Sunrise and sundown
Moon rolls through the night time
Till daybreak comes around
All my life’s a circle
Still I wonder why
Season spinning ’round again
Years keep rolling by.

Beautiful, no?  Tomorrow it will be December – NABLOPOMO will be over for another year and the year itself as fast approaching its final days.  We’ve been through health scares and crises, major adventures and small pleasures, moving and rewarding family time and some times not so great.  So I guess that’s why I’m kind of weepy, having loved the release of daily writing and aware of how fragile is life — and love — and laughter, ready to "go ’round one more time."

Here’s the song:


Have a good weekend.

LEAVING SAN FRANCISCO – AND IT’S SAD

Red_carpet
I’m in the Red Carpet Room at SFO and very sad.  Saying goodbye to my kids is always a wrench – for them, too.  I want to write about leaving but it’s the kind of thing that says more about them than I feel fair revealing.  Suffice it to say that on this week of Thanksgiving I’m as thankful for them as it’s possible to be.

I was so sad that when we went through security and they took my H20 spray away from me I burst into tears.  My sweet husband is on his phone trying to find a way to buy a replacement for me on the web.  God bless him — I do, every day.  See you in Washington.