Random Thoughts

alla + daniel (9-10-6)

2010-12-16T08:52:00.001-05:00

I haven't posted in forever and this is something worth posting :)

"On Rosh Hashanah it is written, on Yom Kippur it is sealed."

2010-09-17T12:01:00.000-04:00

The period Yom Kippur is traditionally the days of Awe. It is time to reflect on the past year and to ask forgiveness for our wrongdoings. I am sorry for not writing more and for disappearing a little too much and a little too often. I'm sorry that too many of those I love are no longer with us, but sincerely hope that they are in a better place. I'm sorry that I am brash and easily irritated sometimes. I'm sorry that I strongly believe in fairness because things rarely are fair. I'm sorry for not telling "I love you" to those that I love often enough. I'm sorry to anyone I have hurt or offended throughout the year. While it's not excuse, but it was a very tough year for me. I'm sorry for not being a better wife, daughter, sister, aunt, friend. I am sorry to all I have hurt. I promise none of it was intentional. I am sorry that there's never enough words to explain my feelings and that I have such a hard time explaining them lately. I'm most sorry that mama is not here with me. As much as I want to believe that she's not suffering anymore and she's watching over us, I'm sorry that my heart can't let her go. I'm sorry.

Mama

2010-08-18T04:00:00.004-04:00

Because today is real and there are no more words...

This time last year . . .

2010-08-17T12:04:00.001-04:00

"A memory is what is left when something happens and does not completely unhappen." -Edward de Bono

This time last year I finished watching my 2nd episode of 90210 and posted S&M's wedding photo book on FB. It is also the time when mama and I decided that we should take her to a hospital. We spoke to her oncologist's nurse. We were waiting for Daddy to come home...

I sometimes wish I weren't so sentimental that I could ignore the gnawing reminders of every day, but then I wouldn't be me. I'd be someone else. The only person I am and want to be is my mom's daughter. I couldn't have asked for a better role model, a better mom or a better friend.

"A mother is she who can take the place of all others but whose place no one else can take." - Cardinal Mermillod

Zone 3

2010-08-08T01:30:00.000-04:00

I am not sure if I ever wrote about my uncle's alarm and a quick search of my blog didn't result in any posts, but nonetheless, when my grandmother passed in July of 2008 my uncle's home alarm system went crazy. Without delving into the details, Zone 3 is the attic. It's next to impossible to get on the roof of my uncle's attached townhouse. Every time something happens in our family since then, Zone 3 lights up. Today is no exception. Whatever grandma is trying to tell us, we hear it and know that she's with us in our time of pain. Call it Esotericism if you want, but lately I believe it more and more. Things in this world are so interconnected that I don't believe in random chance, anymore.

28th of Av, 5769 כ״ח באב תשס״ט -

28th of Av, 5770 כ״ח באב תש״ע

Today marks the Hebrew year since my dearest mom is no longer with us. It is surreal. It was surreal to light the candle and read the prayer (an excerpt of which is below). It was surreal to sit with my cousin and go through the pictures. It is surreal to come to a home without her. I thought that I was okay until I lit the candle, read the prayer and realized that although I follow the Gregorian calendar, it's a year, (10 days ahead of schedule). I think that I'm all blogged out, but I can't sleep in anticipation or dread of tomorrow's unveiling.

I Love You Mom, today, yesterday, everyday.

GIVE ME THE VISION

Shall I cry out in anger, O God,

Because Thy gifts are mine but for a while?

Shall I be ungrateful for the moments of laughter,

The seasons of joy, the days of gladness and festivity,

When tears cloud my eyes and darken the world

And my heart is heavy within me?

Shall I blot from mind the love

I have known and in which I have rejoiced

When a fate beyond my understanding takes from me

Friends and kin whom I have cherished, and leaves me

Bereft of shining presences that have lit my way

Through years of companionship and affection?

Give me the vision, O God, to see and feel

That imbedded deep in each of Thy gifts

Is a core of eternity, undiminished and bright,

An eternity that survives the dread hours

of affliction and misery.

Those I have loved, though now beyond my view,

Have given form and quality to my being.

They have led me into the wide universe

I continue to inhabit, and their presence

Is more vital to me than their absence.

What Thou givest, O Lord,

Thou takest not away,

And bounties once granted

Shed their radiance evermore.

-Rabbi Morris Adler

ת.נ.צ.ב.''ה

Thank You

2010-08-06T13:16:00.002-04:00

I'm rarely at a loss of inspiration - I was blessed with a mother that inspired me to live each day. Every day my mom serves as that same inspiration, because today I live not only for me, but also for her. Last year after my mom's death, I decided to finally sign up for the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure. Through the incredible generosity of my family and friends, we were able to raise close to $3,000. Yesterday, I was invited to a Pink Honor Roll celebration in honor of the top 121 fundraisers for 2009. The #1 place raised over $113,000 and while I didn't raise anywhere close to that, I'm extremely proud of what we raised in such a short amount of time. Of course K's dreidel game winnings, doubled by her company was a large chunk of our efforts, but the importance is the goal - as the NYC president, Dara said yesterday, "Our goal is to put ourselves out of business." My personal goal is to surpass this fund-raising amount in 2010, double our team size and to help save another mother, daughter, aunt, sister, friend, so that another 25 year old girl doesn't have to lose her mom and her best friend to this terrible disease.

I started this post by talking about inspiration and I met a truly inspiring woman, yesterday aboard this cruise around NYC. JP is a breast cancer survivor and her story hit home because she is a mom of two and was diagnosed around the same time as my mom. We spoke of different treatments and she kept comparing me to her own kids. Last year was also her first race. She decided to learn to run, yes run, in honor of both her 60th birthday and her 15 year survival. I can't run, but now I am suddenly feeling inspired - IZ may not be the only one from CUREiously PINK running in September. She was having trouble taking pics and of course I don't take my camera on a trip such as this and I took some pics with my berry that I instantly emailed to her. Today, of course I googled and found much more interesting facts about her and to quote from her featured surivor story on Komen:

If I had not had breast cancer, I venture to say I would not have had the courage to take swimming lessons in a chilly lake in springtime to get over my fear of water.
If I had not had breast cancer, I doubt that I would have had the fortitude to go to law school and become at attorney at the age of 52, which involved commuting three hours round trip to school each day of classes as a single mom.
If I had not had breast cancer, I do not believe I would have wanted to mark the milestone of my 60th birthday, which is also the 15th year of my survivorship, by learning to run this past winter and spring so I could run in the Susan G. Komen New York City Race for the Cure in September.

This Sunday marks the year anniversary and this cruise really couldn't have come at a better time.

To my dearest mom, who always found the strength to smile, to get up and to live each day!!! I love you, today, yesterday, everyday.

Reminders . . .

2010-08-04T14:57:00.002-04:00

Every day is a reminder of something. Today is a relative's birthday, yesterday was B&Es 4th Birthday, tomorrow is 8 years without my grandmother. Am I overly sentimental? Probably. But how can I not be, especially now? Each passing day is a reminder of where I was a year ago today and as bad as things were a year ago, my mom was still alive. As a matter of fact, mama was home from the hospital and doing better, we thought. This Sunday will mark the Hebrew year since she is gone. We will (hopefully) be unveiling the monument on this day as it is due to be up tomorrow. Monday is daddy's birthday. I still haven't bought a present. As I write this I realize one thing, for better or worse, life goes on...

I've been trying to look at things a little more lightly and calmly lately. Everything I read seems to have the same message - good attracts good, positive attracts positive and anyone that knows me knows that I'm a believer in Karma (and not in the "my karma ran over your dogma kind"). Yet, somehow it's hard to remain positive when everything you touch turns to sh*t. I am really trying though and here are a few favorites from The Alchemist, which I finished reading recently by Paolo Coelho:

"Everyone seems to have a clear idea of how other people should lead their lives but none about his or her own."

"...and when each day is the same as the next, it's because people fail to recognize the good things that happen in their lives every day that the sun rises."

"'It's not what enters men's mouths that's evil. Its what comes out of their mouths that is."

"One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving."

A year ago today and the meaning of dreams . . .

2010-07-22T12:27:00.001-04:00

A year ago today, I was sitting in a hospital waiting room blogging about Health Reform without having the slightest idea that it was the beginning of the end, literally.

Last night, although falling asleep rather early, I didn't sleep well, being awoken first by my phone then my dreams. No stranger to dreams and especially after watching Inception this pas week, I'm a bit shaken up by it all. The Dream Dictionary definitions seem accurate enough, but the reality isn't easier to deal with.

Mother
To see your mother in your dream, represents the nurturing aspect of your own character. Mothers offer shelter, comfort, life, guidance and protection.

To dream that you are having a conversation with your mother, denotes a matter that has preoccupied your mind and you are not sure how to deal with it in your waking life. It indicates unresolved problems that need to be worked out with your mother.

To hear your mother call you in our dream, suggests that you have been negligent in your duties and responsibilities. You are pursuing down the wrong path.

Dead
To see and talk with your dead parents in your dreams, represent your fears of losing them or your way of coping with the loss. You are using your dream as a last opportunity to say your final good-byes to them. In trying to keep up with the pace of your daily waking life, your dreams may serve as your only outlet in coping and coming to terms with the loss of a loved one.

Dot Dot Dot

2010-07-15T14:59:00.001-04:00

I've been crying a lot lately. Random things, randomly bring me to tears. Today, it was this poem by Анна Ахматова:

ПОСЛЕДНИЙ ТОСT

Я пью за разоренный дом,
За злую жизнь мою,
За одиночество вдвоем,
И за тебя я пью,—
За ложь меня предавших губ,
За мертвый холод глаз,
За то, что мир жесток и груб,
За то, что Бог не спас.

There's many ideas for blog posts brewing and I'm not sure where to begin. The last few months have been nothing short of torturous, confusing and lacking proper adjectives at the moment. But I'm tired of talking of the negativity - if I am to practice what I've been preaching and desperately trying to believe - positive attracts positive. Light attracts lights. Love attracts love.

No More Tears

2010-07-08T17:08:00.004-04:00

This stupid day just kept getting better and better. I have no more strength and no more tears and with everything going on, I'm ashamed to say I forgot the most important thing. I didn't even light a candle, but I remember. I always remember. I even mentioned it in Danik's birthday toast - the three most important things that Grandma taught me -

Не Откладывать!

Уметь Праздновать!

Жизнь Прекрасна!

I really hope that she knows how much I wish that last statement to be true when everything seems to be in shambles.

Forever in our hearts 02/18/24-07/18/08

I'm with STUPID

2010-07-06T14:38:00.002-04:00

o I am totally in love with new (not so new) DIESEL ad campaign. I think it's genius, here's a few I've "collected." What are your thoughts? What's your favorite one?

Kiss Your Life

2010-06-26T08:26:00.002-04:00

early morning inspiration . . .

The Ex Factor

2010-06-25T17:58:00.002-04:00

I think there was a SATC episode with the same name, but I'm not trying to plagiarize, just make a point. So what is the ex etiquette?
If you are friends with two people who dated, broke up, got married and lived happily ever after, do you invite both? Neither? Take turns?
Or let them decide? Does the equation change if there were hard feelings? Bad break-up? One is un-attached? Does it matter that you grew up with one and know the other for a few years? Months? Weeks? What if the relationship was between your friend and another friend's spouse? While there may be no easy answer to these questions, if you're going to spend your life making others happy, you'll make yourself miserable.

As adults, people can make a choice to be there for their friends and sit on opposite ends of a dinner table, if necessary. I was at quiet a
few events over the last few weeks where I've ran into ex's, flings and other romantic interests. I've taken pictures with them, of them, drank shots with them and celebrated the events that we were both invited to. It's a small world and while you can avoid people,
you're bound to run into them in the most ackward and inopportune of moments. As with everything else in life, there's no perfect answer,as my fave tax professor always used to say, "based on facts and circustances, it depends."

--
Sent from my mobile device

A Sad Kind of Proud

2010-06-18T09:15:00.004-04:00

Today is 10 months since mommy is no longer with us and besides all the other craziness in my life now, that is the one that takes precedent over everything. It consumes me because I miss her so much all the time. I'm trying to finalize her monument for a week now and everything looks wrong and no words and no slab of stone can ever do her justice. Looking for a Chai (חי) design is proving extremely difficult as there's not much choice and nothing looks right.

Ironically, yesterday, after a first Girls Night Out (with a smaller turn out then expected, but we all have to start somewhere), I received the following letter from the Susan G. Komen Foundation. More ironically still, is that August 5 will mark 8 years since my maternal grandmother has passed. I'd like to that all of you for your kindness and support, whether it be through email, joining me in the race or through your generous donations. The race doesn't stop however, we have to keep walking until we find a cure. We have to save every 8th mother, daughter, sister and friend. I invite you to join us in this year's race and to support our team either through your donation, volunteering your time or having a portrait taken by Lina at Lasting Memories Photography with all proceeds going to support our team.

Thank you again for remembering and for your support.

<3 Me

Boris + Ilona

2010-06-10T14:22:00.002-04:00

$$$ versus Sanity - a modern conversation

2010-06-02T16:47:00.003-04:00

WorkingGal1 - you know - bad economy shmeconomy...cannot find anything online

WorkingGal2 - i need shoes and a dress and work clothes and some sanity :-)

WorkingGal1 - shoes? what kinda shoes do you need? :) i thought u settled on the dress
sanity sounds good

WorkingGal2 - [a bunch of stuff that doesn't need to be mentioned here] I'l take some $$$ over sanity at this point too lol

WorkingGal1 - [some more omissions] listen missy, it is either sanity, or $$$ u have to make up ur mind

WorkingGal2 - since when is it $$$ or sanity - $$$ can buy sanity or at least therapy :)

WorkingGal1 - well (since we did not marry right) for us working lots gets $$$ = insanity

"My karma ran over your dogma"

2010-05-14T14:17:00.004-04:00

Lately, I've become a big believer in karma and positive energy and the whole "what comes around goes around" business. Yet, no matter how hard I try everything I come near turns to sh*t. (I apologize, I'm not a fan of profanity on my blog, but couldn't find a fitting synonym). So anyway, back to The Secret of positive thinking. For starters, it's really not a secret - think good thoughts, believe your good thoughts and when you have bad thought, turn them around and all good things are yours. Sounds simple, but to me it's simply impossible. Don't get me wrong, I agree with the premise and even reading fiction like The Lost Symbol, for example, strengthens that conviction. In lament's terms - good attracts good, bad attracts bad, but how do you get out of the bad mindset? My manicurist tells me what works is to just simply concentrate on whatever it is you're doing, typing a blog post, manicure, driving a car, eating, don't get carried away with your thoughts. It's funny, because only the negative thoughts seem to carry. We rarely dwell on something positive.

I'd like to think that I'm a good person that cares deeply around those around me. I usually put others before myself, but rarely feel the same in return. I share (or at the very least try) in everyone's (that's close to me) happiness and disappointments. I always try to go above and beyond, because I believe that you either do it right or you don't do it at all. Nobody has yet gotten upset at me for not returning a call, text or email. I remember birthdays. This is beginning to sound very self-validating and it's my blog so it can be, but why doesn't this positive karma boomerang back? How do you turn it all around? The ageless wisdom of "do onto others . . ."

I got stuck in my not-so-positive thoughts, so some "wisdom" on the topic:

“Sometimes we need to stop analyzing the past, stop planning the future, stop figuring out precisely how we feel, stop deciding exactly what we want, and just see what happens.” - Carrie Bradshaw, SATC

“Sometimes skulls are thick.

Sometimes hearts are vacant.

Sometimes words don't work.” -James Frey quotes

“The human body can bear immeasurable pain and yet recover. Wounds can heal. But once your spirit is broken, everything falls apart.” -Palden Gyatso

“Miranda: Maybe it's time that I stop being so angry.
Carrie: Yeah, but what would you do with all your free time?” -SATC

“Despite the fact that there are over eight million people on the island of Manhattan, there are times you still feel shipwrecked and alone." -SATC

Can you tell I'm a huge fan of SATC? Can't wait for the movie!

"A mother is she who can take the place of all others but whose place no one else can take." - Cardinal Mermillod

2010-05-09T00:45:00.000-04:00

Some Favorites on a really, really sad day . . .

I miss home, "A little girl, asked where her home was, replied, 'where mother is.'" - Keith L. Brooks

"All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That’s his." -Oscar Wilde

"A mother is not a person to lean on but a person to make leaning unnecessary." - Dorothy Canfield Fisher

"Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother's love is not."- James Joyce

"A mother understands what a child does not say." -Jewish Proverb

"A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials, heavy and sudden, fall upon us when adversity takes the place of prosperity when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine, desert us when troubles thicken around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts." -Washington Irving

"Most of all the other beautiful things in life come by twos and threes by dozens and hundreds. Plenty of roses, stars, sunsets, rainbows, brothers, and sisters, aunts and cousins, but only one mother in the whole world." - Kate Douglas Wiggin

"The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother." - Theodore Hesburgh
I'm so glad I got to witness this firsthand. I love and thank my parents for giving me a warm and loving home to grow up in.

"Mothers hold their children's hands for a short while, but their hearts forever." -Unknown

Happy Mother's Day / C Днем Победы!

2010-05-09T00:00:00.001-04:00

To My Dearest Mommy,

This is my first Mother's Day without you and I miss you every minute of every day. There's so much going on in my life right now and you are the only person that I want to share it all with. You're the only one that can give me real advice and wisdom. "I pray you can see me now and be proud of what I have become because of your example, but most of all I thank you because you loved me so much."

With all my love always,
Alla

From a few Mother's Days ago . . . in Kittichai with overpriced Mimosas. I would give everything to be there again. <3

Check out, My Mom The Style Icon for my dedication

An Interesting Idea . . .

2010-05-06T11:28:00.000-04:00

Came across this on someone's profile and totally love it:

"People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever? Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave. A soul mates purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life... "

Doing Good Deeds . . .

2010-05-06T09:05:00.001-04:00

With the team set up, please feel free to join, donate and help support Breast Cancer Research. In the last few days we've gotten a very positive response - $150 donated, $600 pledged and several sessions being planned. All in the first week!!! Then I get an email from Chloe Swanson of the Spread the Word for Charity at HotelsCombined.com program. So of course, I go to check out the site and it's awesome! HotelsCombined.com is a unique search engine that consumers can use to find hotel availability and rates, and to compare prices and offers from multiple merchants. Using their service, travelers no longer have to search websites one by one to find the best deals and lowest rates. Once you find the supplier suitable for your needs, they link you through to the supplier website to book directly. I'm learning so many new things lately, if only I had such excitement in studying for my CPA.

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." -Margaret Mead

Dear Friends and Family,

2010-05-03T16:31:00.001-04:00

The fight against cancer goes on. In today's society everyone knows someone who has been touched by breast cancer. Whether it's a friend or relative, someone in your circle has battled breast cancer. I have found a way to fight against cancer: the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure®. Registration for the September race opened today and I will be dedicating my walk to my Mom, a woman of incredible courage, infinite wisdom and undying strength.

The Komen Race for the Cure is a community event that honors breast cancer survivors and co-survivors and pays tribute to those that have lost their lives to the disease. The Race also plays a vital role in raising funds for research, education, prevention, advocacy and treatment. Each year over 1.3 million people take part in Race for the Cure events around the world. I will be joined by thousands of others on September 12th in Central Park.

How can you help?
You can support me by making a tax-deductible contribution to the Greater New York City Affiliate of Susan G. Komen for the Cure. If you would like to donate, please visit www.komennyc.org/race and click on my personal page to make a donation to my efforts. You may also call me with the amount you will be pledging and can send the donation, payable to Komen Greater NYC, to me at the address below.

Additionally, you can join me at the event (details to follow as soon as the team is set up) as a Race participant or join the fundraiser thrown by Lasting Memories and Plan A Coordination (see flier for more details) . There are many ways you can participate and help run breast cancer out of town once and for all.
Facebook page for CUREiously PINK - Komen Race for the Cure http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=156428644013&ref=ts

Thank you for your continuous kindness and your support in the fight against cancer!

A Not So Happy Birthday

2010-04-19T09:08:00.004-04:00

April has always been a busy month filled with happy occasions. It is the month of many birthdays, anniversaries and usually, holidays. This year, however, it is one birthday less. The candle is lit, the balloon went up to the heavens and I miss my mommy every minute of every day. There's so much going on in my life right now and she's the only person that I want to share it all with. She's the only one that can give me real advice and wisdom. As I type, with tears on my eyes, my thoughts drift away to happier times. I love you mommy, родная, любимая. Wherever you are, I hope you're better and looking over me, too. <3

Mommy's Last Birthday 04/19/09 @ Old Castle Cafe

Своей я маме посвящаю

Свои победы и удачи,

К своей я маме прибегаю,

Когда бывают неудачи.

Она поймет меня, рассудит,

Всегда поможет мне советом,

Я только маме доверяю

Свои сердечные секреты.

Когда я стану чуть постарше

И у меня родятся дети,

Я постараюсь объяснить им,

Что лучше мамы нет на свете!

Ты отдала семье так много лет -
Готовила, стирала и пекла, Дарила нам своей улыбки свет,
Очаг семейный чутко берегла.
Заботой на заботу отвечая,
Мы все тебя боготворим.
И к сожалению, тебя сегодня нет, но
От всей души за все тебя благодарим!

Как больно жить без сердца мамы.
Мамуля, милая моя
Тебя мне в жизни не хватает,
Я без тебя совсем одна.

Как трудно в этой жизни
Без мамочки идти.
Тропою одинокой
В мучительные дни.

Всегда я представляю
В моих глазах тебя,
И слезы набегают,
Как капельки дождя.

Random acts of kindness

2010-04-15T22:12:00.001-04:00

I've always been obsessed with quotes and sayings, because wisdom
imparted by various individuals throughout time is relevant today, to
me. It shows that human nature has no boundaries of language, time or
geographical location. We may have evolved as a civilization, but the
same human truths that were relevant 2000 years ago have not changed.
People need three basic things for survival - food, shelter and love.
I digress.

Love comes in many shapes, forms and sizes, but I won't babble about
what writers, philosophers and scientist have tried to explain for
centuries. I will say that lying in bed after an uneventful evening
in the privacy of my 4 (rather 3) walls an email from a complete
stranger with a simple comment meant more to me then the long awaited
and even longer debated dinner with two of my closest friends.

Sometimes, these random acts of kindness lift us out of a dark void,
if only temporarily, "because despite everything, I really believe
that people are really good at heart." (Anne Frank). Sometimes a
stranger can impart more wisdom then your most valued confidant and
sometimes you just need an impartial reassurance of what you already
believe, but doubt. Sometimes a candle lights the way.

---
"When you see light at the end of the tunnel, it may be the headlights
of an oncoming train."

--
Sent from my mobile device

_____________________________________________________________________________
"We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the hand."
-Randy Pausch

Remembering . . .

2010-04-15T00:26:00.002-04:00

I came across this quote by Pericles on my new follower's, Nova San's blog, "What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others." I cannot even begin to describe the depth and perspective that this short saying means to me, right now as I'm trying to finalize my mom's monument. Translating English to Hebrew, Hebrew to English, abstaing from Russian, trying to find the right symbols, images and words and nothing seems fitting - no piece of engraved granite slab will ever describe my mother. No words will ever do her character and persona justice. I am my mother's daughter, her sole offspring and what she instilled in me during the very short time that she was here [with me] will forever remain within me and hopefully will be passed down to my future children.

Her life didn't touch mine alone and I am certain that there are many people that will remember her birthday this coming Monday, a day after the 8 month anniversary of her passing and I hope that I won't be the only one to light a candle. Although, the candle, much like the monument is nothing but a symbol, a tradition, a way of remembering someone that you will never forget.
--
Sent from my mobile device

Orchids @ the NY Botanical Garden

2010-04-05T10:27:00.000-04:00

Chag Sameach!

2010-03-29T16:39:00.002-04:00

Happy & healthy Passover to all!

Looking at (the) Work Through Rose-Colored Glasses

2010-03-24T22:47:00.001-04:00

My second computer monitor has been randomly turning pink for the last few days making me look at depreciation schedules, tax returns and other pertinent client information through this tinted hue. A few days ago I prepared a Rental Real Estate partnership return. Those are my favorite. I have prepared them and reviewed them almost exclusively during my tenure at KPMG. There was an income item which I knew goes on a separate line and without question, I put it there. The incompetent manager that seldom reviews my work asked me to unlink my workpapers (which took half a day to link) and when she finally took a look at the return she couldn't understand why I put the income item on this line. If there's anything I learned at KPMG and from the book, "How To Work for an Idiot" that a partner there (at KPMG) let me borrow (and I'm yet to return, or finish reading), it's pointless to argue with someone that doesn't understand or (even worse) doesn't care.

I brought this up to the partner and while he asked me the reason for my question, he got tied up and we moved on. I reclassed the income item, but it wouldn't let me rest so I emailed my former colleagues, who all responded quickly and confirmed that I was correct in my logic. One of the people was the former partner, who through the grapevine heard of my question. He didn't fail to point out that it was a good question and provided some industry perspective. I thanked him in an email and he followed up. While the current partner that I work with still disagrees with me and left the item as he deemed fit, I know I did the right thing.

Regardless of what anyone tells you, the people that you work with are the most important aspect of your job. When I started at KPMG, we worked insane hours, but we had a great group. We helped each other and one of the partners that we worked for actually cared about his people. He trained his staff, he supported his staff and he worked as late as his staff (if not later). Yes, that included Saturdays AND often Sundays. Yes, that included 28 hour days. Yes, that included sending you home when he knew it was your anniversary. Yes, that included sending you home at 2 am (an hour earlier than everyone else because you live in NJ). In return the respect was reciprocated. Unfortunately, he is one of the few, but by the same token, the only one I keep in touch with.

He sent an outline of the new Health Care Reform Act and it's tax ramification to his entire "old" team, who had left the firm due to many different factors. If I could work for a boss like him my entire life, I'd be thrilled especially with the team that we had. The hours seemed more bearable and the happy hours more fun. The hours I work now pale in comparison, but so does the team, the work and the experience. When the partner leaves at 5-30-6 (and the rest of us stick it out till 7:30) it'd be nice to hear him say, "Good Night." Again, I'm being overly sentimental and looking at everything through the pinkish tint of my monitor, but I don't want to "make it work," I want to understand what I'm doing and the reasons for me allocating income between Lines 1 and 2. I want to be a skilled professional not a trained monkey.

My Mom, The Style Icon

2010-03-19T13:49:00.013-04:00

My mom was recently published in Piper Weiss' blog, My Mom the Style Icon and now Piper has landed a book deal with Chronicle Books due out in 2011. The exciting news is that Piper has contacted me to use my mom's photos and story to be published in her anthology. Now, if only I can come up with the perfect descriptions to these pictures, come up with the right words to describe the kind of woman she was and more importantly the amazing mother that she will always be for me.

I just got my hair blown out in preparation for the six birthdays that we are celebrating this weekend and the mafioso looking hairdresser, says to me, "I bet you your mom has beautiful, thick hair like yours" and for the first time in my life I've walked out of a hair salon in near tears. My mom had amazing hair that changed with seasons and wardrobes and has been worn in every style imaginable - long, short and medium; curly, wavy and stick straight; in a braid, down and in an up-do - all before chemo had it's nasty effects on her hair amongst, other things. She was beautiful inside and out and to quote my dad yesterday, "Бедненькая, как она на мучалась." My mom will forever be remembered as a woman of incredible courage, undying wisdom, amazing taste and infinite strength. She's so much more than a style icon, she's an icon.

Komen for the Cure -

2010-03-16T09:25:00.002-04:00

We now have a sponsor me page on Facebook and a personal fundraising page on Komen. Please support us with your generosity, your time and your kindness.

Komen for the Cure - In Loving Memory of Leonora

UNCULTU(RED) and UNISPI(RED)

2010-03-15T13:10:00.003-04:00

On Friday hubs and I went to see Red on Broadway with Alfred Molina. I've been a huge fan of Molina ever since seeing him in Fiddler on the Roof a few years back with my mom. Red, didn't disappoint. It is a remarkable play by John Logan that highlights the life and work of famous American artist, Mark Rothko. The dialogue was splendid and I want to attempt to find the screenplay to read. There was much banter in the dialogue referencing other art works, artists, poems, writers, musicians, etc. The names all famous, Monet, Manet, Nietzche, Vivaldi Rembrandt, etc., yet it saddens me to think how little our generation knows.

We know how to work the iPhone, the PC, the remote control, GameBoy and PS3, but we don't know the literary classics, the artistic masterpieces or the classical tunes that have been around for generations. Our parents' generation knows it all, read it all, heard it all and seen it all (if only in books and magazines). Their social gatherings are so much more fun then ours. Someone always play(s) [an instrument], everyone sings, anecdotes referencing historical events, figures, etc are told and it's so much more than our regular debauchery of stuffing our faces and drinking.

We are living in the information age and yet most of us are very uninformed. Yes, we have the news, sports and weather at our fingertips. Yes, we can google anyone, get directions anywhere, download any iTune and still know nothing. Reading has become almost taboo. Few people I know of my generation actually play an instrument (as a hobby) and even fewer know the difference between Bach and Mozart (myself included). There are a gazillion books that I want to read and often have the likes of "Time Traveler's Wife," "Russian Debutante's Handbook"(current reading), "The Lost Symbol" thrust in my face. Yes, they are fun to read and pass the time on the evening commute home, but they can't be compared with the likes of World Class Literature.

We are a product of our times and our parents and grandparents are/were a product of theirs, but there's so much more that we can learn from them, from history and from the classics. We can all become a little more cultured, a little more inspired and a little more appreciative of things that came before us, that gained worldwide recognition and have surpassed the test of time much more so than their contemporaries who die out after one song, one book or one picture.

2010-03-08T02:45:00.000-05:00

milestones

2010-03-05T14:19:00.003-05:00

The first year of life is usually that of many milestones. As our friends are having kids and we'll be attending five 1st birthdays in the next month, we've witnessed firsthand the milestones in the first year of life - sitting, eating, standing, first teeth, first steps. In the first year of death, however, there are also many milestones that you have to overcome. It's your first birthday without your loved one, your first new year, your first year "celebrating" that person's birthday without them. Eventually, it'll be the birth of your first child without them. It's about remembering and yet about moving on, somehow. Today, would have been my parent's 27th wedding anniversary. Next month is my mom's birthday. Each day is one more day that she's not here, that I miss her and that I have to learn to live with only her memories.

March 5, 1983
(unfortunately, 4 people in this photograph are no longer with us)

Brick by Brick

2010-03-01T19:54:00.003-05:00

So back to the SHS, the new space in SoHo is the new home of this "young" and trendy synagogue. A seven year lease has been signed and the first year rent has been completely covered by generous donations from (mostly young) philanthropists and the designs are in place by a famous designer/architect whose work is on display at the Guggenheim. While I missed some of the pertinent details (stay tuned), from my understanding, the SHS will be writing it's own copy of the Torah. They've split it up into sections, where each section will be written with the help of young patrons and a $1,000 donation, followed by a "Stroll for the Synagogue," since Jews aren't exactly known for their athleticism. Having been able to raise over $1,500 for Race for the Cure in a matter of a few short weeks this summer, I have no doubt that with your help, we can raise $1,000+ for the SHS. I think it is important for Russian Jews to get involved in this project and help expand the synagogue, the Jewish community and to meet and mingle with other smart and successful people. While the "Brighton Shore" has been getting quiet a lot of publicity, I don't think it's the kind of publicity that most young Russian Jewish professionals that have been educated in this country, entered the workforce by landing great jobs in various fields, started their own businesses and succeeded in this country would like to get. Every race, religion, nationality comes with a stigma, and it is in our power to change it - to prove "them" wrong and to think outside our comfort box.

To me, it's been amazing for a long time that having been in this country since age 9, I don't have many American friends. I grew up here. I speak English (with a Brooklyn accent as opposed to a Russian one). I graduated college, completed my Master's, worked in a global firm and yet all of my closest friends share the same background. At the SHS Purim event this Saturday, we met an amazingly great, soon to be married couple, L and A. She's from Long Island and A is from
Kansas. Hubster and I were both surprised that there are Jews in Kansas. The fact that they are from Middle of Nowhere Kansas or middle LI has nothing to do with anything except out surprise and our instant liking to each other. Despite the fact that we may have scared them a little when we drove them home to their Lower East Side apartment with a shovel in the backseat, I can't wait to reconnect with them at another SHS event.

What's cool about the SHS is that beliefs and traditions aren't forced on you. As a woman, you can wear pants and as a man show up without a yarmulke and you are not made to feel as an outsider. On the contrary, you feel welcomed and glad to be surrounded by people who are equally proud, but for better or worse, have joined the modern and not Orthodox world. I want to think outside the box, brick by brick, please join me.

--
Sent from my mobile device

The SoHo Synagogue

2010-03-01T13:22:00.005-05:00

I've been on the SHS mailing list for some time, but Saturday's Purim event was the first that hubby and I were able to attend. The SHS is a synagogue is unlike any synagogue you've ever been to. For starters, it's across the street from the rear of Bloomies SoHo (a very fitting location). It is also in the former Gucci Store space, which is a bit ironic given Gucci's signature "Christmas" stripes. We weren't sure what to expect, but we were really glad that we came. We met some really interesting people and the cause is definitely more than noble.

Being former refugees from the former Soviet Union, we were always very aware of being Jewish, but never allowed to practice there. Growing up in non-religious families with our grandparents speaking Yiddish, making gefilte fish and teaching us the importance of picking a Jewish spouse. The diaspora was/is a crazy phenomenon and threw Jews all over the world. We ended up here, half of our families ended up in Israel, Canada, some stayed behind. What I liked the most about the SoHo Synagogue was that you understand where people come from and that most of us aren't religious, but are very proud of our heritage and would love to get involved.

I want to get involved. The events of 2009 have inspired a charitable spirit within me. As Hillel is famously quoted, "If I am not for myself, who will be for me? But if I am only for myself, who am I? If not now, when?" SHS throws a lot of fancy parties in top-notch places, but it also teaches you traditions that we have long forgotten or maybe never learned. How great is it to spend a Pesach Sedar amidst 20 and 30 somethings that are smart, successful, talented and dressed to the T. (I'm not sure what that means).

Religion is a sensitive topic and I could go on for hours, but I've been trying (with many interruptions, stupid work) to finish this post all day and it doesn't look like I'm anywhere near done. I will definitely attend more events and support what I believe is a wonderful cause. So, my proposal of the day, is support something, help someone. You don't have to help my cause(s) (although I'd greatly appreciate past, current and future donations), but join a cause, spread the word, it's not about money, it's about time.

Forever in My Heart

2010-02-18T09:39:00.011-05:00

Sometimes I wish I wasn't so sentimental. I wish I didn't remember every birthday, anniversary. Sometimes, it's good to remember. Sometimes, you wish you could forget.

Today, despite the pain, I'm glad I remember, and I know that I will never forget. There's nothing more that I could say today except that I miss my dearest mom and grandma more than any words could ever express. It's an interesting coincidence that 6 months after my mom is gone would have been my grandma's 86th birthday.

LI 04/19/51-08/18/09
ZI 02/18/24-07/08/08

"Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose." -The Wonder Years

"I pray you can see me now and be proud of what I have become because of your example, but most of all I thank you because you loved me so much."

Saturday Morning Commute

2010-02-13T09:47:00.002-05:00

Q train to DeKalb, R to Canal because it doesn't make it's usual stops and is running over the Manhattan Bridge (and they don't tell you this on Atlantic), long walk to downtown 6 from last car to front of platform, downtown 6 isn't running, longest crossover to uptown 6 over and down multiple flights of stairs (all in four inch heels), 14th street to Wall Street wait time for downtown 4 - 15 min, destination WORK. Caffeine intake zero, frustration at all time high, directions
to tourists 3, hours of sleep 5.5! MTA FAIL!!!

Total travel time 2 hrs, immeasurable nerves complete with lack of desire to work on a Saturday to begin with.

--
Sent from my mobile device

Сильная Женщина

2010-02-12T18:42:00.004-05:00

Speaking of music, strength and all other wonderful things, made me think of this song,

I wrote this, or rather embedded this and remembered how I used to be teased as a kid and used to come home in tears because someone called me Alla Pugacheva. The other day my friend who was recently at a Lady Gaga concert told me that Lady Gaga reminded her of me - creative and had a way with people. I think it was a very big compliment. But I am me.

. . . tired of being strong, крикни а в ответ тишина . . .

The Sound of Music

2010-02-08T11:05:00.002-05:00

Music as sacrifice – I don’t think that’s a very novel idea. Yet, it’s something I haven’t thought a lot about in the past. By Jewish tradition, you’re not supposed to dance or listen to music while you’re in mourning. As I type this, a line from an old comedy routine at the Comedy Cellar just seems fitting, “I too am a Jew, but I’m not as Jew as you.” That aside, music was never a huge part of my life, or so I thought. I’m tone deaf. I have two left feet. Our wedding dance was a disaster, which thankfully was edited pretty well. Since August 18, I haven’t (intentionally) listened to music, but I don’t live in a box and every time you walk into a store or see a movie or go to a party, you hear music. Sometimes you can’t help but tap your foot to the beat, but now I’m very conscious of it. This awareness is very strange, especially at a party when you have to explain yourself, since people don’t know, don’t understand or simply don’t care. We have at least two weddings to attend early this summer of very close friends. I won’t be dancing and I am not sure what will feel more strange – not dancing, or dancing.

I don’t have a favorite artist, or even a favorite song really. I always listened to whatever was playing on the radio, popular at the time or that my friends made me listen to. I always liked songs with meaning. Whether it was an old Alla Pugacheva song or a Nautilus Pompilius ballad, or some pop trash that had relatable appeal, I always paid more attention to the lyrics than to the music. While we were packing and moving “Painted Black” was whirling in my head and while writing my last post, all I could think about was “Proschay Lumibiy Gorod.” Maybe music is a bigger part of my life than I thought. There’s different music – happy music and sad music. Music is a means of artistic expression and usually the best art comes out of bad emotion. When you’re happy, you find better things to do with your time then compose, draw, write.

Back to work.

21 Grams

2010-02-02T16:11:00.002-05:00

How many lives do we live? How many times do we die? They say we all lose 21 grams... at the exact moment of our death. Everyone. And how much fits into 21 grams? How much is lost? When do we lose 21 grams? How much goes with them? How much is gained? How much is gained? Twenty-one grams. The weight of a stack of five nickels. The weight of a hummingbird. A chocolate bar. How much did 21 grams weigh?

-Paul Rivers, 21 Grams

Шереметьево - JFK: 17 years ago, today.

2010-01-26T01:08:00.004-05:00

As hard as it was, life was simpler then - for me anyway, I was 9. I was a kid full of hopes, dreams and a promise of a bright future. I remember a lot of things about our voyage because I've always been very impressionable and even more sentimental. I remember waking up on a cot completely surrounded by suitcases and huge bags (баулы). There was a lot of scurrying since everyone was already up. It was about 4 am. All of a sudden there were a lot of people taking bags and bringing them out of our 3rd floor apartment - the only home I've known until that point and the only place I've really ever felt at home (now that I think about it). There were even more people in our yard all waiting their turn to say their goodbyes. I remember leaving and a strange guy ripping out our beautiful hardwood floor which my mom managed to sell for a few dollars.

We got to the train terminal (what's it called in English? station?) (The same one that they shot in Everything is Illuminated, yes that's L'vov) and we boarded the train. I remember being in the suite (is that how you say it?) with mama and grandma and the three of us hysterically crying and my dad running in with a grin and yelling at us for crying. As the train moved, the crowd of familiar and strange faces just burst into "proschay lubimiy gorod," a song which has made me cry since the day I realized we'd be leaving my beloved L'vov.

We got to Moscow and there things got blurry. I remember being afraid of wearing my gold earrings since they may rip them off with my ear and later (after passing security) telling my mom I could've put "all the gold" in my pockets since they didn't check me. The "gold" is probably worth $500, if that. I remember them searching us like we were trying to smuggle worldly possessions out of what was no longer the USSR. A bag with coins (specifically collected for calls) somehow fell into one of our huge bags and they had to completely unpack it (read: dishevel it). A suitcase which was specifically sent by my sister from the US to meet the size requirements, didn't and we were fined $100. That $100 is probably the equivalent of $10,000 or maybe even $100,000 for us today. Unlike many people, we didn't sell our apartment, because there was yet no privatization in L'vov. On the contrary, we had to pay them to leave two beautiful apartments, one at the city center and ours with complete capital improvements (and now, without parquet floors). We didn't have gold or money - we came with sheets and towels and pots and pans that can probably last us another 17 years.

Somehow, we finally passed security and boarded the chartered plane heading to NY. Because of my grandmother's heart condition, the plane was full of old and sick people. During the flight, when my dad (who hasn't been on a plane since that journey) took me to walk around a bit, I saw things that have stayed so imprinted on my young mind that to this day they give me chills. There were beds suspended from the ceiling. And religious men in black hats (not a common sight in Ukraine) were praying. There were all kinds of crippled people. It was scary.

We landed. It was a sunny and beautiful New York morning. It was about 50-60 degrees (yesterday's weather but with sun instead of rain) and I remember thinking to myself, it must always be warm here. It seemed wondrous and wonderful. I was ecstatic to see my sister and couldn't stop hugging her! She looked great in her purplish/pink shirt with a black zipper and curly (then still dark) hair. I think she had flowers, or maybe balloons and my dad yelled at her for spending money. As Dyadya Monya drove us to Bensonhurst (we stayed with my uncle and grandma for 3 weeks) the ride on the Belt with the sun beaming and the water glistening seemed surreal, warm and wonderful. I've never since enjoyed that road like that again, having made the trip probably 1,000+ times. I had on rose-colored glasses of both childhood and innocence as well as the expectation of a better life for my family.

I'm glad we're here, but I don't know that it's a better life. I think I've blogged about it before, immigration was extremely difficult on our family. Hardship after hardship followed. Yes, good things happened too, but it's hard to concentrate on that, especially now. Шереметьево - JFK: 17 years ago today, the day my childhood ended. Now, starting the 18th without mama, 7 without grandma Mira and the 2nd without Zilpa. How I wish I could be on the Belt in my rose-colored glasses.

-
Sent from my mobile device

Blueberries, Raspberries and Blackberries...

2010-01-22T17:59:00.003-05:00

So you get it, I like berries. I especially love my BlackBerry. It's a phone, a camera and a browser. It allows me to always stay connected (which is not always a good thing). For more specs on the BB, go to their website. Blackberries tend to malfunction - sometimes the trackball doesn't scroll, sometimes they delete your data, sometimes they freeze. In a conversation with E today, my BB froze. Having been a BB user for some time, I know that the best way is to take out the battery, blow and reboot. It worked like a charm. Sometimes it doesn't. In those cases, you call your service provider and have them send you a replacement. Within 2-3 business days you have a shiny new (or refurbished) model to sms, bbm, fb, email and talk on.

Well, all of this got me thinking of how nice it would be if people were like berries, provided that you're a loyal customer. If a person is misbehaving or freezing up on you, just take the battery out and restart. The valuable data that you share with that person is backed up on your pc and in the case of a crash, easily recoverable. In the chance that you didn't have it backed up, well that you'll just have to live with. In the instance of broken trackballs, they can easily be replaced in your local store. In the event that you and this person are constantly fighting, they are shutting you out and forgetting important events in your life, first upgrade the software, then reinstall the OS and if all else fails, call your service provider for a replacement. Every 2 years (or sooner if you're willing to spend the cash) you're eligible for an upgrade for a better
looking, faster and smarter phone errr person.

--
Sent from my mobile device

Looking for inspiration . . .

2010-01-20T13:12:00.012-05:00

People have been complaining and I've been uninspired. Today is my grandpa's 89th birthday. During the last year he lost a child, had a heart attack and ended up in the hospital for the first time. Prior to the events of the last few months, I always wished that all of grandpa's offspring (3 children and 6 grandchildren) have my grandfather's genes and my mother's will to live. I still wish that for all of us. I'm the only one here. My aunt and uncle and their children are all in Israel with my grandfather and I'm here, now, alone. I'm not really alone. I have my daddy and hubby and sis and nephews and uncle and wonderful friends, but the emptiness is unavoidable and there are not enough words to fill this blog with.

My aunt just got back to Israel after spending the last week in Vegas for most of which I joined. Vegas was fun, expensive, filled with more than one adventure like getting conned out of $300 and proved yet again that I have no luck when it comes to cards.

Vegas, much like everything else, keeps changing (pix to follow). The things that don't change is your family, for better or worse, they are there to stay. I just wish some of them were at least a little bit closer to help me feel a little less alone. . .

ALL you need is LOVE . . . not the BB commercial, but the Beatles song . . .

In the meantime (while I'm looking for inspiration), help a great cause or two by simply clicking to help raise $1M for research from Chase . . . I love their new slogan, "Chase what matters":

A New Year, A New Decade, Same Ol' Me . . .

2010-01-08T11:06:00.005-05:00

I started this blog post weeks ago, but just haven't had the energy, strength, time or inspiration to finish it . . .

So, I've gotten more than one complaint for not updating my blog the past few weeks. Despite the constant thoughts and ideas whirling around in my head, there just hasn't been anything exciting worth sharing . . .

In Russian there's a saying, "Как отметиш новый год так его и проведёш" (how you celebrate New Years, is how you'll spend the entire year) and this year was fairly quiet and surrounded by kids. I can finally deal with quiet. For many of my friends, I've been known as "having a propeller," "cup of coffee" and "always out and about." Well the propeller isn't working with quiet the same speed and while I still enjoy good coffee and more importantly, good company, I'm also content watching a good movie under the covers with a glass of wine. Yes, wine, "Wine a little, you'll feel better," and usually I do.

My Mom, The Style Icon: Cruise control

2010-01-08T10:24:00.002-05:00

My Mom, The Style Icon: Cruise control

As promised, my mom was featured on the website and the pictures that Piper chose were some of my favorites from the cruise. . .

Posted using ShareThis

For Deda . . .

2010-01-07T23:40:00.002-05:00

Click here to view this photo book larger

Happy Holidays!

2009-12-24T00:49:00.001-05:00

Wishing you and your family

May health, happiness and good times

greet you each day of the new year!

My Mom, the Style Icon

2009-12-22T08:57:00.006-05:00

My friend, D turned me to an interesting blog by having her mom's photo published in it, My Mom, the Style Icon. The blog publishes photos of uber chick moms and of course as soon as I heard about it, there was no doubt that my mom's picture is getting submited. It took a while for me to scan the photos per Piper's (the editor's) request and chances are all of them won't make it to her blog, but I decided to pot them on mine since my mom was the prime example of chick and trendy. By this this collage alone, you can see that my mom didn't wear her hair the same way twice. (She was blessed with thick, lush locks for most of her life, or rather before chemo). As a student at the University of Culture in St. Petersburg, (right), she was the trendiest of her friends. (Far Left) is her at work in heels (and of course) with a manicure climbing at work. Even when I was born, my mom was the epitome of class and style (and you can't see that my carriage was blue on the black and white photograph because there was a deficit of carriages in USSR when I was born). If you didn't grow up in the former USSR, you will never understand what it's like to stand in line for hours for a loaf of bread or to get a cake from "under the counter" in a vegetable store, to see empty shelves in a supermarket or to find gloves and have a coat made to match. But, it was fun and with taste, even with limited resources, people stayed stylish. Imagination was key, without Ricky's on every other corner my mom dressed up as a Geisha for a costume party at work and I think she was a lot more believable than in my "trendy" Geisha costume last Halloween. (Bottom right) is the picture of my mom in a dress that my grandmother sewed for her. My mom, the style icon - the epitome of class and elegance not only by what she wore, but also by what she said and the kind of person that she was and for me, will always be.

(will post updates and link to the blog once it makes it there.)

One Third

2009-12-18T03:00:00.000-05:00

"I tell you everything that is really nothing, and nothing of what is everything, do not be fooled by what I am saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I am not saying." -Charles C. Finn

Because really, what's there to say?

Strength

2009-12-16T21:47:00.004-05:00

The ideas for this post have been whirling around in my brain for a few days now, but the words didn't seem to come out and the time has been somewhat scarce. Here I am on a 9 p.m. train heading back from a 1st holiday party at a new job and the thought won't let me go - so I will try to jot it down as coherently as is possible before it escapes. Hopefully, it'll make some sense...

I come from a family of strong women. Both of my grandmothers were extremely brave, strong and loving. Then there's my mom and there's not enough words in any language I know to describe her courage. My aunt is another prime example. This is not to say that the men in my family are weak, but quiet the contrary. It takes a very strong man to be with a strong woman. In my house, my parents always had equal voices. Maybe my mom knew more about this and my dad knew more about that, but every decision was made together. Yes, there were arguments. Those happen quiet often between two strong people, but as I got older I realized that it only reinforces the love and respect you have for your partner. If you never fight, one person in the relationship is a weaker, more agreeable one. That doesn't make him bad, but it's just impossible to agree on everything.

None of the aforementioned women, have had an easy life. Both my grandmothers lived through WWII, one by working in a factory, the other in an Uzbek family. They lost a father, a brother, a train full of classmates and many other friends and relatives like so many jews during the war. Luckily, they didn't lose their lives. My maternal grandmother raised my mom on her own by working (often two jobs) to make ends meet. My paternal grandmother lost her husband and the love of her life fairly young. She continued to raise her family and be the ultimate matriarch to two sons, five granddaughters and four great-grand-kids. We all immigrated and the struggles continued for them and began for me.

I hear from both friends and acquaintances, "you're so strong." I am not. Strength doesn't come from choice. I don't want to get any stronger, but somehow these walls keep building and the terror is felt only from within. You cannot explain the pain or the hurt or the rumbles that you feel inside. You go on pretending to be uninflicted, smiling even, laughing sometimes. You work, you eat, you sleep, you celebrate birthdays and holidays, you spend time with friends. Each day you die a little more. Each day there's a needless argument, there's an urgent return to be done, a phone call that must be made and someone you love is in the hospital, yet again. Where do you find the strength? Unfortunately, I don't have women to ask anymore (besides my dearest aunt, who's always had more on her plate than she knew what to do with) and as for the men, they are men. They don't talk about feelings. They shy away from doctors. They love with their actions. Their physical strength is only a fraction of the inner strength it takes to fight a war and get deeply wounded, to lose a child, to lose a mother and wife a year apart.

Strength isn't something you develop by choice. It isn't how many arm-wrestling tournaments you can win. It is your ability to get up every morning and to keep fighting, to keep smiling, to sing songs, to celebrate birthdays and holidays, to love and to keep living.

--
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____________________________________________
"We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the hand."
-Randy Pausch

2009-12-07T10:10:00.001-05:00

"Бог дает одному наперсток ума и кувшин счастья, другому — кувшин ума и наперсток счастья."

Inspiration . . .

2009-12-03T14:28:00.001-05:00

a TXT conversation between myself and a good friend [edited for grammar & language]:

Dec 3, 2009 1:31:47 PM
“She [her almost 4 year old daughter] is better. Unfortunately, we missed the tree lighting ceremony so hopefully we will go next week to Manhattan”
Dec 3, 2009 1:32:33 PM
“:-( da, will be nice to see all the displays and stuff. Trust me, it’s better to see tree lighting on TV, in reality, you can’t get through there.”
Dec 3, 2009 1:33:47 PM
“I know. So we are going to see Christmas Spectacular on Monday and I want to take her to the Disney store and Rockefeller Center next Friday.”
Dec 3, 2009 1:34:57 PM
“Awesome! You remind me so much of my mom! It’s really heartwarming…she used to take to all these things and everyone thought she was crazy.”
Dec 3, 2009 1:35:48 PM
“Actually, when I read your blog, it was a huge inspiration for me.”
Dec 3, 2009 1:37:09 PM
“You have no idea how big my smile is right now :D”

So, thank you mama for not only giving so much to me, but also for inspiring others.

I can't get this image out of my head

2009-12-02T10:39:00.001-05:00

Stuffed but empty

2009-11-26T22:05:00.002-05:00

It was a lovely family dinner. Happy turkey day! Gobble gobble.

--

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Giving Thanks

2009-11-24T11:09:00.001-05:00

With the holidays quickly upon us, it’s the time of year to reflect, to give and to make resolutions. The last few years have been extremely difficult, but there’s still a lot to be thankful for. Unfortunately, my family has gotten smaller, not bigger, over the last few years, but I’m truly blessed to have these people in my life. Every family has its quirks and mine is no exception, but luckily its loving, nurturing and nothing short of amazing. At the top of the list are my wonderful parents who have devoted so much time, put so much love and instilled values. I’m thankful for hubs, who often misses on the brownie points on the small things, but always makes up for it on the things that matter. My older sister always makes me feel less alone and is there to give advice or just to chat and to tell me what I don’t always want to hear. While my nephews are going through a tough age and have an answer for everything, I love them for the smiles they always bring. My extended family of aunts and uncles, cousins and second cousins are caring and always there through the best and worst of it. Then, there are my friends, many of whom have become family over the years. At a recent bridal shower for one of my closest friends, I remember our moms discussing how different we all are and how lucky we are to have each other and to have built these friendships that have already survived the test of time. We’ve laughed together and cried together. We’ve partied until the wee hours of the night and often into morning. We’ve also held each others hands through the painful days and nights. We’ve celebrated birthdays, graduations, jobs, engagements, weddings, births and we’ve cried over broken hearts, school, work, loss of grandparents, parent(s). We’ve shared lunch, clothes, secrets, joy, sadness, friends, advice, sleepless nights and happy days.

Despite the difficulty that often arises with living, I’m thankful to be alive, to be healthy and to be surrounded with such wonderful people, even though some left much too soon. I’m thankful to be human and remain humane. I love you all.

Three Months

2009-11-18T18:07:00.001-05:00

of eating, of crying, of job hunting, of sleeping, of moving, of starting a new job, of house hunting, of Facebooking, of raising $ for Race for the Cure, of not sleeping, of random blogging, of emptyness, of smiling, of celebrating, of drinks, of shopping, of cooking, of waiting for the train, of talking, of traveling, of procrastinating, of dinners, of emptyness, of living...without my mamochka.

MY Mamochka, a woman of incredible courage, infinite wisdom and undying strength. I love you.

--
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The Yankees Won

2009-11-05T13:54:00.002-05:00

Winning is awesome even when you don't really win anything. It's a sense of pride that arises from being a part of something, from being a fan. I am rather surprised that I actually got into baseball this year. I guess the 8 years of hubs' subliminal messaging paid off. Also, I've been spending a lot of times with my nephews between their constant Yankees versus Mets feud. I remember the last time the Yankees won the World Series (funny, how it's called "world" when
really it's a US pasttime) a bunch of my guy friends showed up at my house with "Y", "A", "E", "S" written in huge letters on their backs and chests. It seems like a bazillion years ago when in reality it's only been 9. Most of them, I lost touch with. The last time I saw one of them was at my wedding and one of the others I recently caught up with on FB.

Time flies, people change and yet so much remains the same. I recently caught up with another friend on FB. We went to elementary and Junior High school together. Finally, we met for coffee today and despite completely different lives and an absense from each others' for the last 10+ years, we had a lot to talk about, to gab about and to reminisce about. Life takes you in such strange circles and really the one thing most of us win are friends. Some are won over with
charm, others with personality. Sports are a great example of teamwork, friendship and the reality that you can't conquer the other team (or the world) on your own.

--
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The grass is always greener - I'm looking for a career, not a job.

2009-11-02T16:04:00.003-05:00

When it comes to just about anything it always seems that "the grass is greener on the other side" or as that saying goes, "marriage is like when you go out to dinner with your friends and wish you had ordered what your friend is having (or something along these lines.)" In life, at least in mine, "when it rains, it really, really pours." For hope of getting away from cliches for at least part of this post, let me elaborate. I've been actively and not so actively with obvious slumps and as many as three interviews a day looking for work since June. The market was dead. Suddenly, when I have an offer, the calls keep pouring in. They may or may not be other offers, but they areopportunities. What happens when you're faced with choice? Decisions. I hate them! How do you make the right one? When I'm set on something, I have no problem going for it, fighting for it and ultimately (hopefully) getting it. Yet, it's not often that I'm 100% certain of what I want.

The only thing that ever came easily to me was school. That's not to say I had straight A's or a 4.0, but I did well enough with minimal effort and always had time for a social life and work since age fifteen. By the same token, I had two classes my senior year of High School - accounting (because of the two-year commitment of the Academy of Finance program) and gym (which apparently I needed to graduate); I completed my undergard in 3.5 years and my masters in 1. Where was I rushing to? I was playing catch-up, with myself. Regardless, it wasn't a struggle. Everything else, was/is.

I don't like to complain (I can picture several people snickering at this comment), but I don't. It happens, yes, but never in regard to the important things. At least I'd like to think so. I also hate
asking for help, even when I need it, even when I feel suffocated without it. Through the years, I've learned to rely only on myself. If someone lends a hand in the process, its greatly appreciated and never gone unnoticed. I've learned to ask for help from people that I know Ican count on. Those relationships took years to build, but I am confident in their strength. I've learned to say, "no." Now, I have to learn how to make the best decision for Me and not for the world around me. Tips/comments are always appreciated and hard to come by.

--
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I won the parent lottery

2009-10-19T23:25:00.003-04:00

So, I finally began reading The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch and after I read the chapter, "I won the parent lottery," I can't seem to get the phrase out of my head. Randy's story is truly inspiring as are hundreds of cancer stories. He had a mass audience. Each of us does, if we want to be heard. I truly believe that I won the parent lottery. Yes, I've fought with my parents. Yes, I've had the adolescent stage where I wished they would get divorced. Yes, I wouldn't trade them for anyone in the world. My parents invested their life into me (and my sister and nephews), but primarily me. I hope that I have the strength and courage to give my kids at least half of what my parents gave me. My mom and dad are very different, have a very different approach and both love me infinitely. My mom was the artsy one. She took me to the theater and to the ballet. She took me to Bulgaria on my 5th Birthday and to Moscow before I started school. She read me a bazillion stories and kept a diary of my perls of wisdom. My dad was the athletic and mathematic one. I knew the entire multiplication table before I started school. I played badminton and walked for miles "zagorod" [upstate] to pick berries and flowers. Hence, my love of walking and perhaps my profession, although, I enjoy reading a lot more than doing tax returns. But, I did minor in English.

Anyway, those are the little things. And right now they are incoherent, but I'll keep writing. Every day on the way home from school or on the way to Grandma's my parents would recite a new poem. By the time we were on the way back (or closer to home), I was retelling it. My parents invested all their time and energy into me. I was never too young or unimportant. My opinion always mattered, whether to buy flour in Minsk, to wear gold earrings while passing customs while immigrating to the states or buying an apartment which I'm now again sharing with my dad.

It always amazed me, but lately it's become a lot more evident for some reason how I remember a LOT more things from my childhood than most of my friends that immigrated around the same time and around the same age. I remember the streets, the way to school, to grandma's, to home (I have never been back). I remember my friends, my teacher, my doctor. I remember a ton of detail. I remember my grandpa. I remember my feelings.

Now that my mom is gone, I notice doing certain things that I was never taught, but I realize that those are things that she instilled me and they are inherent. My dad and I folded the duvet cover today. I didn't have to say anything, I just gave him the other end and we pulled in opposite directions. I remember when my parents used to do that when I was small and I would run underneath with bouts of laughter. I remember seeing my dad on TV and coming to his office. I remember him making me photocopies of a book his co-worker gave me as a souvenir. In 1980's Ukraine, that was a BIG deal. I remember visiting my mom's small library while "Дом учёных" was undergoing renovations. I made Borsch and Golubtsi last week, to taste, without a recipe. I did well in school without ever feeling pressured to. I wasn't "supposed to be" anything, despite my dad's big dreams of having a doctor in the family.

As usual, I notice that I'm rambling. Perhaps, I'll make this entry more concise when I focus, but I could write volumes about how the only thing I ever won in life is the parent lottery. I wish my mom had better luck in the longevity lottery, but she left a huge imprint on many people and the world.

Nothingness

2009-10-17T22:35:00.002-04:00

I want to say that I feel nothing, but in reality I feel everything.
I don't know how to put all my emotion into words, partly because I'm
not that good a writer, partly because its all too much.

--
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Yesterday

2009-10-15T23:41:00.001-04:00

Having visited Anyway, 3 days in a row and having heard "Yesterday" played two days in a row led to an interesting thought. Two and a half years ago, at twenty-three, I felt very young - too young for the responsibilities that I had and the problems that I was then dealing with. I felt too accomplished, if there's ever such a thing. Two and a half years later, with more responsibilities and even more problems, two very tremendous losses, I suddenly feel old. I feel that there
are a lot more things that I could have and should have accomplished. Yet, that same out of place feeling persists. I can't help but wonder if it'll follow me through life, if my over-analytical brain will ever give me a rest, if I'll ever come to peace with myself and my life.

What's two years on the grand scheme of things? Then again, life is all about the little things. It's about seizing the day and living a life worth living, whatever that means. It's about returning calls (I just made 4 notes in my calendar). It's about...who knows what it's about?

Maybe it's not about yesterday or about tomorrow, it's about today - just another day I spent in the kitchen. At the same time, I spent it with my nephews. I cooked for my family. I did homework with them. I got my nails done. I had a drink with a friend. I blogged. And the only unfitting sentence at the end of this pointless ramble is, I miss my mom.

--
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Dot Dot Dot

2009-10-08T16:58:00.003-04:00

The NYC subway is good for a few things (besides getting you from point A to point B). It is good for talking (on the phone if you're above ground, or traveling with someone), playing BrickBreaker, reading a good book or blogging. Some of my best blog posts have been written while riding through the tunnels of NYC at all kinds of hours of day and night. Today, I've tried talking, reading and playing BrickBreaker, the only thing left to do is blog.

I'm stuck. I need a subject matter. While 36,287 thoughts are surging through my mind at any given moment, I can't seem to concentrate. I can't pinpoint what it is I feel or need to express. . .

. . .Are people closer because of distance? Do family friendships survive generations? Is everything really fated? Hmm...maybe I'll have more concrete thoughts on the ride back...

. . .Nothing's changed now that I'm on my way back home. Home, that's such a strange word. Home isn't really tangible. When I was little, I didn't understand the expression, "home is where the heart is." Now, I realize how much I've missed having one. I've been living out of boxes for what seems like forever now, really it's only much of my "adult" life. What makes you an adult? Age or experience? If it's age then I'm only 26 going on 57. If it's life experiences, I may as well retire. But before I veer off on another tangent, back to home. . .

. . .My heart is my home. It is filled with love for people close and not so close to me. It is filled with fond memories and deep wounds. It is warm and there's always room for me, my thoughts, my happiness and my sorrow. My mom is my home. She is no longer tangible, but I always go there. Even now, I don't want to make her worry an extra time, even though I now understand that she does and always has. She always made me feel welcome, wanted and loved. That's what home is. It's not about the size of the condo, house or mansion, the furniture and trinkets that you decorate it with, the curtains that you lug through all of Italy on your honeymoon (because buying them in Israel made so much sense at the time) or even the comfortable bed that is yours. Home is often where your family is, but more importantly it is where you find inner peace. I've been house-hunting for quiet some time now, but while riding on the Brooklyn bound, now local B train, I realize that what I've really been searching for is a home.

--
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Chai

2009-10-08T10:06:00.001-04:00

I've been AWOL from my blog for a few weeks now because I was traveling and didn't have the time to sleep let alone write and also because I've been extremely lazy. I was in Israel. I love Israel as a country, but more importantly I love the people there. My mom's entire side of the family is there as are her closest friends. The experience can be summed up in three words: short, emotional, good. It was a big decision for me to go, especially now, but in the end I'm glad I went. There were scheduling issues, there was Yom Kippur, there was my cousin's Bar Mitzvah. There wasn't nearly enough time with anyone that we saw, but had we stayed a month it still wouldn't be enough with people that you love. As I'm typing this I realize that I still don't have the strength to write everything that I want to say, so I won't force it. I'll focus on Chai.

The letters "Chet" and "Yod" add up to the number 18, therefore a spiritual number in Judaism. I gave my cousin multiples of 18 as a gift for his Bar Mitzvah. More simply, "Chai" means life. When Jews drink, they often toast, "L'Chaim", to life. What's the significance of 18 in my life? My mom passed away on the 18 of August. She knew how to live and lived for each day. It is fitting that she was taken away from us on a day that signifies life. As much as I miss her each and every minute of every day, she's everywhere. She lives within me, within the tons of photographs, within the stories that her siblings, friends and relatives keep sharing, within our home, within all of our hearts.

Потери

2009-10-08T09:51:00.009-04:00

An article graciously written and sent to me by mom's close friend, which was published in Israeli-Russian Magazine, "Силуэт".

Все уже круг друзей…

Эмилия Корытная

«Неправда, друг не умирает, лишь рядом быть перестает…» (К.Симонов)

Перейдя определенный возрастной рубеж, мы вступаем в полосу потерь. Собственно, полоса эта может возникнуть и раньше, но, «земную жизнь пройдя до половины», мы обнаруживаем вокруг себя разреженное пространство, где, даже если никаких катаклизмов не случилось, любимых и знакомых лиц осталось не так уж много… Это, конечно, естественный ход событий, но всякий раз смерть близкого, как разрыв снаряда, - потрясение.

Две недели назад умерла моя подруга – мы дружили почти 35 лет, хоть и жили последние двадцать лет в разных странах. И то, что я пишу сейчас, - единственное, что я могу сделать для нее, в память о ней. И мучаюсь, что не сделала этого, пока она была жива.

Мы познакомились с ней при довольно забавных обстоятельствах – в очереди на собеседование, на курсы экскурсоводов. Мы стояли в коридоре, сосредоточенно разглядывая свои руки. Потом подняли глаза, встретились взглядами, и Лера спросила: «А что, без маникюра сюда не берут?»

Нас взяли, хоть маникюр у нас был тогда совсем не яркий…

На курсах, у нас сложилась веселая компания, которую по имени одного из нас, Леня Колкера, стали звать «колкеры». Мы учили теорию, а потом ездили во всякие учебные поездки, где, как сейчас говорят «оттягивались» по полной программе. Нет, мы не пили и не бузили, мы просто доводили некоторых преподавателей до исступления своей абсолютной свободой – тогда, вероятно, это в самом деле не только мешало, но и ужасно раздражало. Мы позволяли себе говорить то, что еще не было принято говорить, а знали некоторые из нас много больше того, что полагалось…

Как-то, завершая учебу на курсах, мы с Лерой вместе повезли одну группу, кажется, в Минск. Рассказав все, что полагалось по ходу движения, мы стали развлекать своих туристов стихами, рассказами, песнями. Помню, как вдохновенно мы, сменяя друг друга, читали стихи-притчи-сказки Феликса Кривина, которого обожали. И что удивительно, все нас слушали, хотя это была группа с какого-то местного завода… Наверное, мы были так увлечены, что и им стало интересно, отчего белый бычок ищет по белому свету белую ворону… Кривин сейчас живет в Беэр-Шеве, но имя его и его дивные творения помнят сегодня только те, кто любили его когда-то… (Впрочем, на похоронах Ренаты Мухи – еще одна страшная потеря – я увидела венок с лентой «От Кривиных»).

Первым из нашей группы ушел Юра, по прозвищу Граф, длинный нескладный очкарик, который был всегда объектом шуток и розыгрышей – они с женой погибли на «Нахимове» по время того страшного круиза...

Потом не стало Вити Курсанова, самого старшего из нас, вечного студента, который - по легенде – проучился в университете двадцать лет, а потом его же однокурсники ему диплом вручали, вместе с глиняной медалью, на которой был запечатлен его усатый профиль…

Исчез их поля зрения самый респектабельный их нас – Юрка Екимов, эдакий супермен, похожий на молодого Пьера Ришара, теннисист, горнолыжник, фотограф, меломан, бабник, а по совместительству кандидат технических наук…

Кто знает, где сейчас Леня, подаривший группе свою фамилию, – он уехал в Израиль еще тогда, когда не было Большой алии, здесь я его не встречала – видно, продолжил путешествие в пространстве. А в те времена он был архитектором, замечательно знал наш город и здорово о нем рассказывал. Впрочем, в нашей группе было много отличных рассказчиков, и многих уже, увы, нет в живых. Умер недавно Борька Завельский, который был директором музея этнографии и народного творчества – такой деревянный городок из резных карпатских домиков, под открытым небом… При последнем нашем разговоре Лера с завистью сказала: - Вот счастливый, уснул и не проснулся…

Из ее уст услышать такое я не ожидала – она, проболев больше 15 лет, сохраняла удивительный оптимизм и жизненную силу. Видно, действительно, болезнь так измучила и изменила ее, что она смогла позавидовать чьей-то смерти.

Лера заболела, едва только приехав в Америку, обнаружили это случайно, во время обычной проверки. Операция, тяжелый период реабилитации, а потом регулярные обследования и опробование всех возможных методик – обычный путь онкологического больного.

У Леры был мощный стимул – дочка была еще маленькая, ее надо было поднять, дать образование, довести до той границы, где она уже сможет существовать самостоятельно, без мамы. Хотя где она, такая граница?.. Судя по самой Лере, ее мама была для нее и поддержкой, и подружкой, и необходимой частью жизни – до конца.

И Лера держалась. Она работала, почти все это время, без перерыва – это тоже был стимул, ощущение востребованности. Дочка подросла, закончила учебу – теперь нужно было дождаться ее свадьбы, а потом помочь растить внуков. Свадьбу сыграли знатную, по высшему разряду – впрочем, Лера всегда все делала со знаком качества. В школе училась отлично, вуз потом выбрала - из лучших, закончила его с блеском, потом спокойно и уверенно продвигалась по карьерной лестнице. А если она устраивала дома какой-нибудь «сабантуй» можно было быть уверенным, что все будет необыкновенно вкусно. Они с мамой накрывали полянки с такой изобретательностью, что даже лучшие хозяйки – они, как правило, очень придирчивы и ревнивы, не могли не оценить этого… Точно таким же перфекционизмом отличается и Аленка, ее дочка: у нее всегда изысканная стрижка (роскошные блестящие волосы достались ей от Леры, которая тоже всегда была модерново подстрижена), стильный прикид, фирменная обувка… Все должно быть лучшим!

Уже когда первая операция была позади и Лера немного пришла в себя, она затеяла первое путешествие - в Израиль. Волосы, почему-то начавшие виться после лечения, только-только отросли легким пушком, еще не прошел болезненный отек, но Лера была полна оптимизма, превозмогая усталость, ходила и ездила по стране, восторгалась красотами и радовалась общению со старыми друзьями и родными. Она привезла тогда с собой чемодан подарков, впрочем, это тоже была фирменная фишка – у нее всегда был специальный подарочный фонд, и никакое мероприятие не заставало ее врасплох (если Лера видела какую-то вещь, которая могла пригодиться, она покупала ее, даже если в данный момент это было ей совсем ни к чему).

А еще она всегда использовала любую оказию, чтобы передать что-то приятное друзьям. Иногда мы злились: вот, приехал какой-то чужой человек из Штатов в гости, а нам теперь за подарками от Леры приходится тащиться черт знает в какую даль, да еще ведь и ей нужно что-то передать, а попробуй сочинить подарок тому, у кого все есть! Но когда разворачивали с любовью сложенный пакет, всегда поражались точному попаданию – она знала, какой цвет и фасон кофточки (помады, теней для глаз, лака для ногтей) подойдет каждой из подруг, угадывала, какой именно флакон духов очень удобно расположится в сумочке каждой из женщин... А потом она стала везти и слать подарки и для наших детей и внуков, и снова – всегда точное попадание!

На каждый день рождения неизменно приходили поздравления, традиционные, на ярких открытках – всегда с остроумными пожеланиями, навевающими ностальгические воспоминания, цитатами, которые для нас были знаковыми, связывающими с каким-то событием. А на каждый семейный праздник они общими усилиями выпускали газету… Написала эту фразу и вспомнила, что и мы когда учились на курсах, пару разу сделали замечательные стенгазеты, одну из них я даже привезла с собой (и куда она подевалась во время переездов с квартиры на квартиру?..) Она была выпущена к какому-то сходняку: на листе ватмана были приколоты разные предметы от каждого пришедшего, что в кармане завалялось, у кого этикета от водочной бутылки, у кого записка с напоминанием купить картошки. Помню, была даже увольнительная, ее прикололи курсанты нашего политучилища (это уже когда ряды «колкеров» стали шириться). Жаль, что потерялась – замечательная была память о тех временах…

Примерно раз в месяц раздавался звонок от Леры – она была в курсе всех наших дел, мы подробно обсуждали с ней все происшедшее за прошедшее время. Даже с друзьями, которые живут в получасе езды, мы не поддерживали таких плотных контактов. Более того, через Леру мы узнавали о новостях друг у друга, находили потерянные связи – имя ее служило почти шпионским паролем: «Я знаю о вас от Леры…»

Тогда, в свой первый приезд в Израиль, она была полна надежд. А потом изо всех сил рвалась сюда снова – ей после приезда стало ощутимо лучше, или так казалось. И она приехала еще раз, через пару лет, снова полная оптимизма, опять с чемоданом подарков. А потом все телефонные разговоры завершались, почти как в молитве, фразой: «Я приеду…»

С такой же радостью приезжала к нам Аленка, сначала с мамой, а потом с мужем – при каждой возможности. В последний раз они был здесь в начале года, снова проехали всю страну, не забыли никого из родственников и друзей, раздавая подарки и рассказывая вновь и вновь, каким молодцом держится мама. И почти клятвенно было сказано: «Маме станет получше, я куплю ей билет в бизнес-класс, чтобы можно было лежать во время полета – она так хочет в Израиль…» И мы поверили, что еще немного - и мы снова увидимся.

Я поставила эпиграфом к этому тексту строки Симонова, очень оптимистичные и светлые. А, дописав, поняла, что на одном оптимизме и силе воли продержаться очень трудно. И как раз книга подвернулась современного, даже, я бы сказала, модернового писателя, работающего в стиле нестандартного фэнтези, Джаспера ФФорде (это у него такая фамилия), и прочла фразу: «Я не завожу слишком много друзей – они имеют обыкновение умирать, как только привяжешься к ним». Да, слишком много друзей мы теперь не заводим, но те, кто уже стал другом, тоже почему-то умирают. А после смерти остаются только в наших воспоминаниях…

Traveling

2009-09-24T15:33:00.002-04:00

Traveling is usually exciting and with the intent of vacationing. Whether it is to relax, to sightsee or to spend time with family/friends, it is usually a pleasant experience. Yes, the process of getting to your destination of choice is usually annoying and cumbersome, but the stay itself makes it all worthwhile. I've gotten on a plane many times to travel all over the place. There were bumpy rides and easy fligths. There were those with baggage and those with just carry-on. I came to America on a plane. (Duh!) It was exciting and scary at the same time. America was my new home and in my over-analytical 9 year old brain it meant a lot of change and change came. We adjusted. America is home. I've gotten on a plane twice to come to a funeral. Today I'm getting on a plane and nothing is the same. I'm not going to a funeral, but I'm in mourning. I will attend a Yom Kippur fast and a Bar Mitzvah. I will see my family and family friends and yet I feel so uneasy, so restless. I don't know what this trip should bring. I don't know whose moral support I'm going for, mine or someone else's.

first birthday

2009-09-22T00:01:00.003-04:00

No, it's not my first birthday, but it's my first birthday without mom, the person that gave me life and so many of its lessons. Many moms do many things for their children. I don't think there are too many that write their child a letter on the day they are born. I wish that I could explain the emptyness or the pain to someone, to anyone. I wish someone would understand. I wish someone would let me talk about it, without making me feel guilty for putting a damper on their mood. I know they always say "be careful what you wish for," but this birthday I have only one wish which will never come true.

2009-09-19T01:38:00.000-04:00

My mother is a poem
I'll never be able to write,
though everything I write
is a poem to my mother.
-Sharon Doubiago

Shana Tova

2009-09-18T11:43:00.000-04:00

I'm a big fan of Dry Bones. Happy New Year. May the year ahead be full of gain and not loss. May everyone remain healthy and in good spirits. All else we can buy.

1 Month of Emptyness

2009-09-17T23:45:00.003-04:00

By the time I wake up tomorrow, it'll be one full month. Where did the time go? Tomorrow is Rosh Hashanah, the beginning of a new (Jewish) year. It's a holiday of sweetness and abundance (both of which are missing in my life this year). This Rosh Hashanah was supposed to be spent with family, to get on a plane Sunday/Monday for Paris. We were gonna spend my birthday and a few more days in Paris and then head to Israel for Yom Kippur and my cousin's Bar Mitzvah. As I've learned over and over, nothing (in my life, at least) ever goes according to plan. We are having dinner tomorrow with my dad and sister and Saturday with the in-laws. My birthday is still on Tuesday. We are getting on a plane next Thursday heading for Israel. But NOTHING is the same. The biggest part of my life is missing. Family dinner will be missing the main ingredient. The person that gave me life won't be here to wish me a happy birthday, so what can there be to celebrate? Paris just doesn't seem to be in the cards. I'm going to Israel to see mama's family, my family; to spend time with her friends; to be there on Yom Kippur (and not the Brighton fashion show); to be there (as promised) at my cousin's Bar Mitzvah, to light the candle, to say a prayer and not to dance.

L'Shana Tova U'Metukah and please whoever you are and wherever you are(I realize you may not be reading this, but you know this is in my heart), let this year (5770/2010 whatever calendar you use) be a year of gain and not loss. I can't get any stronger and even if I can, I
really don't want to. I pray only for health of everyone that I love. (A not so) Happy New Year!

--
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My dreams are getting weirder...

2009-09-16T20:52:00.002-04:00

To dream that you are at somebody else's funeral, signifies that you are burying an old relationship and closing the lid on the past. You may be letting go some of the feelings (resentment, anger, hostility toward someone) that you've been clinging onto.

To dream that you are seeing the doctor, indicates your need for emotional and spiritual healing.

It's a loong story...that I've been trying to write down all day...maybe tomorrow.

--
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HET C/\OB

2009-09-15T17:54:00.004-04:00

Every day for the last four weeks I feel that there are no more words left, no more tears left, but each day to (no longer) my surprise they (both) keep streaming. It's a gorgeous summer day. I'm sitting across the Hudson River with a spectacular view of the city, waiting for hubs to finish work so that we can go to Poconos - to get away, to breathe some fresh air, to relax, to clear the head. It's the same place we were four weeks ago. It took a lot of convincing for me to go, but I can't keep hiding forever. Everything is painful-the house, the dishes, food, friends, family, vacations.

I walked into the store today, not really willingly, just had a few hours to kill and there's really not much else to do in Jersey. The first thing I found (without even looking) was a sweater for my mom (those of you that know my mom can understand the significance) and I just burst into tears. I wanted to buy it. How many times did I look for a birthday present? A new years present? A mother's day gift? Ajust because? Without ever finding it. Why is it screaming at me now, "pick me up, buy me!?".

I don't know how I can look forward to anything anymore. J said something smart (again) yesterday, "U think u have to get over it, u never will, u just have to learn to live with it." How can I? Who will give me advice? Who will yell at me and hug me right after? Who's going to buy me a birthday present a month and a half in advance (or rather give me $ for another successful visit to Century)? Who will write me poems and give me newspaper clippings with useless
information? Who will talk to me for hours any time I want to?

I can keep blabbing, but for now I gotta keep driving. Ta Ta, for now.

--
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Lucky or not so lucky sevens...

2009-09-13T10:59:00.006-04:00

So seven has been a pretty prominent number in my life (but more about that some other time), doing the race for the cure now, there's 7 of us on my team, the 7 dwarfs. The race is really empowering. We had a hard time parking, Ira is already at the finish line, while the rest of us just passed mile 2. The turnout is incredible, in celebration of "my life," "my mom," "my sister.". In memory of "my mom," "my mom, my nanna," "my daughter Susan.". There's definitely a herd mentality, but it makes you feel a part of something bigger. This won't bring mama back, but if it can save another mother, daughter, sister, aunt, friend, etc., it's worth all the effort, the $1500 that we raised in less than two weeks and in keeping my mom's heroism alive.

"In Loving Memory of Leonora," my mom, my hero, my role model, my hope. You're ALWAYS with me. This is for you.

--
Sent from my mobile device

Hospital

2009-09-12T09:14:00.002-04:00

To see or dream that you are in a hospital, symbolizes your need to heal or improve your physical or mental heath. You need to get back to the flow of everyday life. Alternatively, it suggests that you are giving up control of your own body or that you are afraid of losing control of your body.

I want my mommy!

2009-09-11T23:17:00.002-04:00

For everyone, it seems, life goes on. In some aspects I can even say that it went on for me. I mean I haven't locked myself in the house or anything. I see people when they aren't too busy or preoccupied with their own lives. We celebrated our three year anniversary yesterday. I check FB, odnoklassniki and email regularly. I booked a flight to Israel. But, I feel so empty, so lonely. Every smile is fake - it covers the tears and the pain underneath. I fight tears back ten
times a day, sometimes 10 times an hour, sometimes 10 times a minute. I can't explain this feeling. I can't explain this pain. I can't explain the weight of this loss. So I get frustrated.

My mom ALWAYS knew what I was feeling. I didn't necessarily have to tell her what's going on in my life for her to feel my emotions and know whether I was happy or sad. I didn't have to tell her the details of a fight or a date - being next to her made me understood. I will never forget a trip to Miami, when I called mama and from 3,000 miles away she said, you sound good, rested. I felt happy at the moment and the fact that she knew that from my voice just left me speechless. No, noone can ever replace that, but I think what makes me angry is that nobody even tries. Everyone moved on, they "did what they had to do." They came to the funeral, brought food during shiva, they called a few times and went on with their lives without stopping to think why can't I? Yes, life gets in the way and everyone has their own share of problems and happy occasions that they need to attend to. People may even get upset at me for not asking about their doc's appointment, choice of hair color or new purchase. Maybe I am preoccupied now and I deserve to be given some slack? Maybe I haven't been a good friend all these years? Maybe someone else needs to think about what my dad, husband and nephews need to eat on a daily basis? Maybe I always expect too much?

As usual, I don't have any answers, just a bunch of muddled questions in my clouded mind. I want my mommy! I need her and I will never see her again.

--
Sent from my mobile device _________________________________________________________________
"We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the hand."
-Randy Pausch

Race for the Cure 2009:
http://www.komennyc.org/site/TR/Race/race2009-wide?px=2103990&pg=personal&fr_id=1170

There's so much pain in this world.

2009-09-11T10:00:00.003-04:00

It's another grim September morning. It's September 11. I'm watching the memorial, the nasty weather outside and my mom's picture. I cannot help but draw the parallel between cancer and terrorism. Cancer is a terrorist. It kills and destroys without regard for race, color, age, etc. It kills its own kind. Yes, terrorists are human-kind, but they are not worthy of being called people and I will continuously refer to them as "it." Those who have no regard for human life, not even their do not deserve to be called people, do not deserve to live. It goes back to the question of fairness, because so often they do. The broken families are left to pick up the pieces to fill the gaping void of a life lost prematurely, before its time - speak at a memorial, write on a blog, knowing that nothing will ever fill this emptyness.

Always Remember, Never Forget

09/09/86
09/11/01
08/18/09

Another book I've been meaning to read . . .

2009-09-09T23:12:00.004-04:00

. . . it first stood out to me on a crowded subway, When You Are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris. The title just seemed fitting at the time and while I had no idea who the author was or what the book was about, it just keeps popping up (not just on NYT Bestseller list). Some quotes that I just came across that . . . well that (without sounding redundant) made sense . . .

"If you're looking for sympathy you'll find it between shit and syphilis in the dictionary." — David Sedaris (Barrel Fever: Stories and Essays)

"If you aren't cute, you may as well be clever." — David Sedaris (Me Talk Pretty One Day)

"Real love amounts to withholding the truth, even when you're offered the perfect opportunity to hurt someone's feelings" — David Sedaris (Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim)

"I haven't the slightest idea how to change people, but still I keep a long list of prospective candidates just in case I should ever figure it out." — David Sedaris (Naked)
_______________________________________________________
Another (bestseller) book that I've heard a lot about is, The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch based on his renowned lecture, which I've been meaning to watch. As I'm writing this my recent post is flashing in neon bulbs in my head. I will keep saying I need to read this, see that, spend time with, etc., instead of talking/blogging about it, maybe I'll head to the library tomorrow. I must add, however, that quiet a few of my tight-knit fanbase have been telling me that you're enjoying my posts as of late. I guess when life happens (no pun intended), there's just more to say than before. I know I've often blogged about keeping certain things private, but this is no secret and like I told V today, I don't do it for anyone but myself. I enjoy rereading my posts after time has passed. It's an online public diary of real day-to-day emotions. It's a venting mechanism. Maybe I do need a stroke of the ego every so often and that's the reason my blog is public and the reason I crave comments. I know you all have BBs, iPhones and are constantly glued to the computer. Be kind.

"We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the hand." — Randy Pausch (The Last Lecture)

"The brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls are not there to keep us out; the brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something. The brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want it badly enough. They are there to stop the other people!" — Randy Pausch (The Last Lecture)

"When it comes to men that are romantically interested in you, it’s really simple. Just ignore everything they say and only pay attention to what they do. It’s that simple. It’s that easy." — Randy Pausch (The Last Lecture)

"The key question to keep asking is, Are you spending your time on the right things? Because time is all you have. " — Randy Pausch (The Last Lecture)

"It's not about how to achieve your dreams, it's about how to lead your life, ... If you lead your life the right way, the karma will take care of itself, the dreams will come to you." — Randy Pausch (The Last Lecture)

"If I only had three words of advice, they would be, Tell the Truth. If got three more words, I'd add, all the time." — Randy Pausch

"It's not how hard you hit. It's how hard you get hit...and keep moving forward." — Randy Pausch (The Last Lecture)

I had a dream . . .

2009-09-09T17:55:00.004-04:00

. . . interpretations welcome.

If you dream that you are on your way to the hospital to have a baby, then it signifies your issues of dependency and your desire to be completely cared for. Perhaps you are trying to get out of some responsibility.

If you dream about someone who has died could mean that you have unresolved feelings regarding them, or you didn't mourn enough for them.

The above is what I was able to find in regards to a pretty bizzare dream that I had last night. The dream left me so shaken up that even though I've shared it with several people, I couldn't bring myself to write about it. The dream was very vivid, I was in labor in the hospital waiting room with none other than my mom. Nobody else was there (except strangers). I went to use the restroom and felt the baby starting to come out, so holding the babies head with my hand, my mom and I are running through hospital hallways in search of a delivery room and/or doctor. Somehow in between, we caught a glimpse of my dad when the elevator stopped on our floor. What he was doing there or what he said, I don't remember. What's strange is that neither my hubby, sis or friends were there, it was just me and mama. The dream was so real that even in my dream I was fully aware that my water didn't break, that I wasn't having painful contractions, just that this baby needed to come out.

The other strange thing is a girl I know and share a birthday with gave birth a few days ago and for some reason I couldn't wait to tell her that we now have Virgo babies. I woke up before "giving birth" so I don't know if it's a boy or a girl. In reality, my maternal instinct is kicking me hard; almost as hard as the necessity to find a job and a house. I always wanted a boy. I even had a name picked out. I didn't like any girl names. Now, I want a girl. I want to buy pretty dresses and hair clips. I want to make braids and take her to the zoo, the museum, the theater, everywhere. I want to attempt to teach her at least half of what my mom taught me.

From my mom's collection of aforisms & poems . ..

2009-09-09T11:40:00.002-04:00

"Я без тебя умеру"

2009-09-08T23:19:00.004-04:00

Reading and rereading the diary that my mom kept with my perls of wisdom, I came across this phrase apparently uttered by me around age 5. I'm 25 (yes, I'll be 26 in two weeks, but who's counting?) and somehow I'm still breathing, walking, living. Yet, I feel completely empty, completely drained and no matter who I talk to, they just don't understand. I can't keep talking about me, there's nothing to say and to hear someone else's problems, well they just seem so petty now.

Speaking of talking (is that even proper?), people are strange. Maybe I am strange. Maybe I have a convoluted perception of everything. Then again, I always have. I feel that certain things should go without saying. I realize that noone is a mind-reader, but there are things that are either common courtesy or common sense. There are people that I haven't spoken to in ages that came to the funeral, but haven't followed up with a call since. Then, there are strangers that call often. I guess it all depends on the person. Everyone always has enough problems and drama in their own lives to worry about anyone else, but some people go the extra mile. Some do it habitually. Some do it for everyone. Some do it for a select few. Some don't do it at all. Having dealt with enough problems and drama in my own life, I often notice that it's strangers that will do more. It's my friend's mom making us dinner, it's an ex-landlord taking care of D's grandpa, it's a childhood friend/old co-worker/college classmate pledging money for the cancer walk I'm doing this Sunday. It's my mom's cousin that didn't call when my grandmother died or when my mom died. It's so much and nothing to say, because the only person I want to talk to is mama. I feel that she's here. She's home, downstairs and come morning I'll be able to catch her up to the latest gossip and she'll yell at me for the mess in the house, which I've actually been trying to clean up (sort of). It's everything being out of place - "ты моя любовница," I told my mom while hugging her (around the same age), and I know noone will ever love me as much. I pray that I have as much love to give my children and half as much wisdom as my mom gave me.

Komen Greater New York City - Race for the Cure 2009:

2009-09-08T11:46:00.001-04:00

Komen Greater New York City - Race for the Cure 2009:

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It's NOT fair!

2009-09-07T12:15:00.003-04:00

Life isn't fair. Duh! I don't have the toy that he has, I don't have the body that she has, I work harder than he does, she is smarter than me, etc. We are all placed in situations where we deem things to be unfair. We feel that someone, other than ourselves is getting preferential treatment. Sometimes, it really is the case. Sometimes, it's the cosmic powers that surround us that regardless of whether your believe in destiny or the power or positive thinking screw us over so much, that things really are NOT fair.

This seems to be a recurring theme in my life as of late. When I lost my job, one of the partners and I had a very long discussion about fairness. He told me how his entire client got outsourced (revenue included) whereas he was still doing the majority of the work (client meetings, negotiations and review of the tax work). A few weeks ago, leaving my parents' house, D also went on a rant how there's people that do drugs and commit crimes and live long and healthy lives whereas good people have to suffer. My mom died less than four days later. She never did drugs. She never smoked. She was loved by everyone she came in contact with, from the pharmacist (who called yesterday), to the manicurist (who called last week), to her friends (who are scattered worldwide), to the sales person in the russian store (who took phone orders from my mom), to the sixty plus people (who showed up to her funeral in a matter of three hours), to her husband (who is keeping all his pain inside), to me.

All I can do is write. There's nothing left to say. There are people that have trouble having children and then there are those that stuff babies into garbage cans. There are people who never experience loss and then there are those that lose entire families in an instant. There are people who don't love/like/communicate with their parents and then there are those that lose their mom, their rock and the foundation of their entire family at twenty-five. What's fair? Who's to decide? What can you do to change your destiny, because no amount of positive thinking will bring the people that we love back.

Week Three

2009-09-07T12:04:00.002-04:00

Time keeps flying somewhere. It simply disappears. I find myself smiling more, but the heaviness in my chest isn't going anywhere. I still can't do certain things and yet, I end up doing more and more normal things. I have these mixed feelings about seeing a movie or going to a cafe with music and any time a car with the radio blasting passes by these feelings flood over me. I don't know what they are, the closest comparison I could come up with is guilt, but that's not accurate either. I am trying to be strong, mainly for my dad. I'm trying to act "normal" (whatever that means) for everyone around me. Yet, when the reality hits me, so do the tears.

My mom and I have been apart for weeks on end when either her or myself have been out of town, when I was working ridiculous hours, so to some extent the full reality of her loss hasn't really sunk in yet. I understand and am fully aware of everything that happened last month, what happened that stupid Monday, three weeks ago and the funeral on Tuesday. I don't want to believe it. I don't believe it. I can't believe it. Who knows what the right thing to do is? No, my mom wouldn't want me to suffer, but she wouldn't want me to move on so quickly either. It's like with my whole perception of Judaism, you do as much as you can. Everyone keeps saying that I did everything I could've when it came to my mom, but I don't. I feel like I could've done more. I should've tried harder. The feeling of helplessness, for me, is the worst. No matter, what I did, how hard I tried, the result was the same. It's just not fair!!!

Spasibo, XPEHOBO!

2009-09-03T10:15:00.002-04:00

"Only by looking at you now, do I realize that it's much easier to die than to live."

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My Mom, My Hero

2009-09-02T11:17:00.005-04:00

I think that most normal people love their mothers. I think that the majority of these people have good relationships with them and admire many of their character traits. Few people I know have the kind of relationships that I do with my mom. With small lapses when either one of us was out of town, my mom and I spoke every day, usually twice a day, sometimes 8 times a day. I could trust my mom with anything. I often didn't because I didn't want her to worry an extra time. By doing that I worried her even more, as I realize now. After finding out about my mom's sickness at a ripe age of twelve, I set myself a goal - my wellbeing is one less thing my parents have to worry about. I did well in school, I chose my own schools, I worked since age 15. Overall, with a few growing pains, I was a good kid. Yes, mama was worried about wrong crowds, drugs, late nights, but which normal parent isn't? Besides the late nights or early mornings, as my mom called them; a few bad seeds that I never called friends and quickly got discarded, she was happy with how I turned out. Mama raised me well - I know how to read and write in two languages (product of immigration, but my mom was always the go to person for any help with russian vocabulary when playing "balda," "goroda" or "pasochki"), I have a strong respect for the arts and an even stronger respect for people, I could set the table and cook a meal (although the golubtzi and borscht are two recipes that will take me years to recreate). She taught me the values of hard work, the importance of family and the necessity in always remaining human, or rather humane. She knew my harships, she faced many more. I know that my mom was extremely proud of me and the wow that I took at age 12 will hold true for me forever. I have a hero to look up to. Many people have said that my mom deserves a monument while she is alive. She will soon get one, unfortunately she won't be here to see it. My mom never talked about being sick, she talked about her youth, her family, her friends. She was always more concerned about first me, her mom (while she was alive), my dad, her dad, family, friends. She has a LOT of friends. I do too. Addresses changed, circumstances changed, they got older, but their friendships lasted. My mom's willpower didn't falter till the very last day. Yet, she still didn't want to take an extra pill to ease her pain. As J said, "she didn't leave [me], she was taken away from [me]." While that's true in the physical sense, noone will ever take mama away from me. She is me and I am her. She's my hero and I will live to keep making her as proud as she's always been and then some.

I love you mulya.

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Random acts of kindness, memories and the small things that change lives

2009-09-02T00:02:00.002-04:00

Obviously, one's parents have a profound effect on one's life. My mom has definitely made a tremendous impact on mine. She made me, shaped me, instilled values in me, passed down annoying character traits and had the biggest overall effect. My mom made significant impact on lives of others as I am beginning to learn. Yes, we can start with my dad. But, they didn't meet until she was 31. With one letter (which for as long as I can remember has been claimed by my dad to be the reason he married my mom since "it was the first letter he received in his life that had no grammatical errors") lives changed forever. Myparents were married. I was born.

Today, amidst moving boxes of my stuff into my parents apartment, I received a letter from one of my mom's friends. She's a journalist, so needless to say it was well-written. They've been friends for 35 years and living on separate sides of the globe for the last twenty. The letter spoke of how they met, some of their escapades and memories in general. The letter made be both cry and laugh especially after rereading several times.

After sitting with my nephews, a gazillion calls, arranging for a job interview tomorrow and several visits to car dealerships, my parents friends' from Canada decided to "drop in" and pay their respects. Oleg and my mom met in 1974 when he came to her library and she gave him an "intelligent" book to read. They soon became friends and after seeing one of his performances at the Lvov theater (he's an actor), my mom told him backstage, "I know you can do better." He took it to heart and this changed his life and he went on to study acting more seriously and his talent is remarkable. He sang his "crown" song at our wedding, Besame Mucho, but I've seen him do better.

It's both uplifting and sad to see these people and hear these stories. I constantly go through pictures (from yesterday and from 40 years ago). It calms me, sometimes. Really it makes me see what a wonderfully smart, charismatic, beautiful, vivacious and loving woman my mom is. It makes me extremely proud to be her daughter and to strive each and every day to be as wonderfully smart, charismatic, beautiful, vivacious and loving. There aren't enough adjectives to describe my mom, but hopefully if what I am planning will work out (with a lot of work and a little bit of luck), I will be able to collect enough adjectives and learn of many more life-changing stories, transatlantic friendships and little anecdotes to ensure that my mom's legacy lives not only within me.

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JOIN ME - Komen Race for the Cure

2009-08-31T12:06:00.001-04:00

I'm not sure where this came from, but so true

2009-08-31T12:05:00.000-04:00

Как часто мы не ценим время,
И часто им не дорожим.
Как часто жизнь мы вспоминаем.
И часто о былом грустим.

Как часто говорим пустое,
И часто тишина в ответ.
Как часто спорим про смешное,
И часто ждем мы лишь совет.

Как часто на себя в обиде,
И часто некого винить.
Как часто любим мы в порыве,
И часто нелегко забыть.

Carpe F***ing Diem

2009-08-28T20:15:00.002-04:00

My friend has a tattoo with those words. I got D a T-shirt with those words two weeks ago. My mom is one of the few people I know that lived by it. We've all heard the cliches of "tomorrow may never come" and sometimes it really doesn't. My mom loved the theater so she went despite everything as much as she could. She fractured her foot once going to see a show (it resulted in a much less painful visit to ER). She never talked about her sickness, about her pain. She talked about her feelings. She cared about everyone around her. She loved people. In a matter of a couple of hours sixty people showed up to her funeral (discounting the fact that the majority of her family and close friends are scatterred world wide). Hoards of people kept coming to the house, bringing food and expressing their condolences. It got loud and rowdy at times. People talked about their own things, laughed, looked at pictures and played "Eggs USSR". I just wish they came when she was alive. It would've made her happy. I know someone wanted to visit her next weekend and someone had a movie for her and someone I haven't spoken to in years was remembered by her only days before she was gone to have him call me 10 days after. She lived selflessly and always surrounded herself with good people. Sometimes we don't say "I love you" often enough, sometimes we're to busy to visit when we should, sometimes "life gets in the way, when you're too busy making other plans." I, like my mom, have wonderful friends who are there to help in any way they can even when I don't know what I need help with. Even when all I want to do is scream. Even when I do scream. Even when I say that if I hear "how are you" one more I will smack someone. I feel guilty doing certain things, despite the reality of "life goes on" and at the same time the reality of this not sinking in. I don't think it ever will. Noone will ever replace mama. I never had to share her love with anyone. It was always all mine. Now, I have noone to share the grief with either.

I see a red door and I want to paint it black

2009-08-28T20:00:00.003-04:00

Yes, generally red is my favorite color. I own red shoes, red glasses, red sweaters, etc. The cover on my bb is red. I guess, "I'm on a new diet, wearing black."

Emptyness

2009-08-24T16:52:00.003-04:00

I've felt pain before. My entire adolescence was extremely painful. I've lost loves and loved ones. Nothing compares to this numbing wound. My heart has been ripped out and the half that remains is still beating. Each photograph and clothing item, every memory, is a pinch of salt dropped on my bleeding heart. I do everything like she did, from not leaving dirty dishes and closing the fridge to correcting pronunciation and punctuation. I even finish sentences with her aforisms. Yes, the show does go on. Life continues for some faster than others. Yet this feeling of emptyness persists. Twenty people will not replace one and the tears keep streaming when I think no more are left. How can people laugh? How can they shop and listen to music? How can I smile? I know I will. I maybe even have, but this gaping hole keeps getting wider and emptier as minute by hour by day it's already a week.

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Mamochka

2009-08-18T08:54:00.003-04:00

My mom is the strongest person I know. She's extremely brave. I can't refer to her in the past tense. She made me a list of everything I need to make Borscht only yesterday. She was her mother's only child and I am mine. Noone will ever replace her and I can only hope of being half as good of a mother as she is. She never complained. She did everything for me. Her house was spotless. Her cooking superb -noones golubtzi can come close and I don't even have a recipe. I wish she lived to see her grandchildren, but wish her nothing but rest. She has suffered enough here, but she made many wonderful friends whom life scattered worldwide, she created a loving family and a warm home. Her door was always open and like any Jewish mother, she always fed you even when there was nothing to eat. Her stories always went on tangents that by the time she ended you forgot where you started. I used to scream at her for that. I'd give anything to hear another one of those stories about her friends and parties and boys. My mom loved mansi, but she never gossiped. She is always fair. She is the best. She fought till the end. She is my mamochka.

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Healthcare Reform

2009-08-01T08:08:00.003-04:00

Dear Mr. President,

The US health system is in dire need of reform. I realize that you want change, but while I am not 100% clear on all of your points, I have a few of my own. Before I begin, let me preamble by stating that inviting the Harvard professor to the White House is not essential to the country right now. Yes, it's a shame that it happened, but racism just like anti-semitism, sexism, etc. is still prevalent. Stereotypes exist for a reason. While you speak English properly, have an Ivy
League education and worked extremely hard to get where you are today, with stereotypes working against you, not everyone has. Yet, everyone likes to take credit. "We won! We won!" Wtf did you win? (Pardon, my French, Mr. President). If you're a lazy, unmotivated individual,
you're not going anywhere and it has nothing to do with color, race or poverty. I commend you for achieving the level of success that you have, but that was done on merit and not handouts, that many are expecting. My family came to this country with $90 and we're doing just fine. Yes, we needed assistance at first. Yes, my grandmothers received SSI, but I've paid enough taxes to cover that and then some.

So back to healthcare...

(1) You should only work in the medical profession if you truly want to help people. If you're in it for the $, get out. Health is the biggest asset an individual can possess and compassion is a virtue. Being able to diagnose/treat/speak with a sick person is a talent.

(2) Good Doctors/nurses/other med professionals should be paid top dollar for their hard work, sleepless nights, gazillion years of school and emotional burden. They should NOT be taught in school to "charge max versus doing best treatment." They should be compensated fairly for the work they do based on city/state average, their experience level and complexity of the work. They should collect 100% of what they (fairly) bill, not 10%.

(3) Get rid of unions. They don't work. They are costly and they don't hire the best talent, but usually quiet the contrary to meet certain quotas. (The same goes for the construction industry.)

(4) This may not be true of the entire country, but NY hospitals are overcrowded (much like the rest of the city). Patients need privacy and regardless of their sickness/diagnosis should be treated as people and not "bed 42". More time should be spent per patient.

(5) Drug interactions and prior history need to be checked with each prescription, doctor visit, hospital stay. Here I propose a central database accessible by every health care professional across the nation. (It's 2009, let's make use of technology!) Such "smart" database would flash a warning to an opthalmologist who is prescribing medication that has a direct effect on the person's heart and he suffered two heart attacks, for example. If the undiligent doctor
wrote the prescription regardless, the pharmacist filling the prescription would see the same warning. Healthcare needs to be put back in the hands of the patient. Leeches are no longer the "cure-all" solution and with the millions of drugs on the market, one needs to know what it is he is taking and how it will affect his body. I can go on about the details of such database, but in interest of time (and my sleep), I believe I have made my point.

(6) People who have worked in/for this country their entire lives should be entitled to affordable healthcare and prescription drugs. People on welfare and other such public assistance need to stop abusing the system. (Do NOT have 8 kids when you can't raise any of them (because you're an idiot yourself) to collect WIC, food stamps, etc; do NOT order medical supplies you do NOT need simply because they are free (and then donate them to salvation army for a tax write-off),
do NOT bill Medicaid for free air-conditioners, trips, etc. Yes, these programs are wonderful for older people, but the funding has to come from elsewhere.

I may not have all the answers and I definitely haven't covered all the points, but these are issues I feel most important. And the sooner someone does something about it, the healthier we'll all be. What could be more important than that?

Sincerely,
AI

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Doctors, Medicine, Hospitals and other such Yucky things!

2009-07-22T10:15:00.004-04:00

My grandmother was right. Every family needs a doctor. Maybe I should have been a doctor? I get nauseous at the sight of blood. I feel like I will throw up after any conversation having to do with surgery. I think in mental pictures. Yet, I've spent so much time in hospitals from a young enough age to at least have been useful, to understand what these medical terms mean without Google or Wiki and to be able to make educated decisions concerning the health of those I love.

I couldn't study for the SAT, studying for MCATs and the Boards would have been out of the question. Life has always been too important to me, but so have the lives of those I love. Spending as much time in hospitals as I have, I probably could have completed residency already and still I skeeve them. Some have been really nasty and old, others new and with the patients' needs in mind, but they all have the same feel. The doctors vary, the hospitals change, but I don't wish anyone to know what it's like to be in the care of the best doctor in the best hospital. I wish everyone in my life, HEALTH and at least one doctor in the family. Luckily, I have a sister-in-law in med school, a friend that's a RN, two PA friends, a friend of a friend that's a pharmacist and then there's J who knows a little about a lot. For everything else, there's Google.

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Sent from my mobile device while sitting in a hospital waiting room.

Single, Engaged, Married...repeat as necessary.

2009-07-21T12:26:00.004-04:00

When D and I got engaged one of my bridesmaids gave me wonderful advice when I was contemplating about what kind of wedding to have,"make your first wedding count." Going into marriage, I don't think that anyone thinks that it won't last (I'm not talking about the
"marry for green card" weddings). This weekend two of my very dear friends proposed. Obviously, the girls said, "yes". Does anyone ever say no? Either way, I wish both couples a lifetime of love,understanding and happiness together in good health.

Another friend of mine was proposed to on the 3rd date. Are we getting engaged for the right reasons? Do we unconditionally love our partners? Is unconditional love even possible? Do we choose significant others based on our compatibility or incompatibility? Is it social compatibility or mental or physical? Do we get engaged because it's time to settle down? Do we settle? What's settling? Isn't being with one person for the rest of your life settling? If you wait forever, won't you die alone?

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Walking around in NYC

2009-07-15T17:19:00.001-04:00

Sunrise/Sunset

2009-07-15T16:50:00.005-04:00

A movie hasn't had such a profound effect on me in a long time as Before Sunset. I recommend watching it, the sequel first. Sometimes life or at least a movie is meant to be played in reverse.

"Memories are wonderful things, if you don't have to deal with the past"

2009-07-13T21:00:00.000-04:00

"the world is cruel, and the only morality in a cruel world is chance." -The Dark Knight

You Live, You Learn

2009-07-11T19:00:00.001-04:00

I never knew that you can inscribe a bench in the park. Here are a few that caught my eye.

I don't believe in miracles . . .

2009-07-07T18:25:00.004-04:00

but stranger things have happened. So today was the second time in my life that I witnessed a natural phenomenon. It's even stranger that for the second time it happened at a cemetery. Moreover, on the one year anniversaries of each of my grandmothers' deaths. It was a lovely morning despite the cloud hanging over NYC and the predicted rain. Despite agreeing that nobody will go to the cemetery before Sunday to mark the opening of the monument, I went. I had to. Plus, I never listen. As soon as I picked up the Yahrzeit candles and got into the car it began to drizzle, but rain never scares me so I kept driving. I drove through a mix of sun and rain all the way to the cemetery. By the time I got off the highway, it was pouring. Cemeteries in the rain are freaky and as I came up to the "street" where my grandmother's monument is, it was a complete downpour. I wasn't sure what to do, but I couldn't turn around now. I waited a few minutes squinting to find the monument. I made a U-Turn so that it would be on my left and not right side. I rolled up my white linen pants, grabbed an umbrella and walked out of the car. The rain eased up. I quickly found the monument and said my prayers. The rain stopped. It was unbelievable, but given New York weather recently, not shocking. I walked back to the car and got out the Yahrzeit candle. I lit it and put it on the monument covering the wax with rocks so that it wouldn't go out from the wind. The birds started chirping. I said another prayer. I got in the car and stopped by the main entrance to wash my hands. There was no rain, the sun came out again. I got back in the car hoping for a quick ride home and as soon as I passed through the gates of the cemetery, it began to pour. I'm not talking about a drizzle, I'm talking about a downpour. It was raining so hard that going about 7 miles an hour I had zero visibility. It rained most of my way home. Now, it's sunny.

There are things greater than us out there. I believe that. This wasn't a coincidence. I believe that too. Neither was August 5, 2003 when only during the prayer the sun hid behind clouds, the wind picked up and it looked like it was going to pour any minute. As soon as the prayers were sad, the clouds parted and gave way to the beautiful August day. Natural phenomena? Divine intervention? Miracle? Whatever it was, it gave me a lot to think about on the ride home.

Interviewing is a lot like dating

2009-06-30T16:33:00.002-04:00

Where did you go to school? Why did you leave? What makes you interested in us? All these questions make your head spin and the more interviews I go on, the more I feel like I'm going on a blind date. Granted, I've been out of the dating game for quiet some time, but I remember what it's like and I have plenty of friend stories. You go into an interview, much like a blind date, only with the name of the prospect and whatever information you found on the internet. After the interview/date is over you dish to your mutual recruiter/friend about the good, the bad and the ugly. You talk about reasons for going on a second interview/date and whether or not you
see yourself with this prospect in the future. You sit and wait for a few days, weeks and sometimes even months inviting you to come and join them and the terms on which they'd like to see you again. You cross your fingers and hope for the best.

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