Keystone
Go back to the den.
Why are you standing there?
Please sit down.
DON'T GO OUTSIDE WITHOUT YOUR WALKER!
You are in the line of traffic.
Please, stay with the kids in the den.
For a man who has always been a pillar of his family and community it cannot be pleasant to be pushed out of the way while everyone packs, cleans, and moves the stuff of many lives. What are the emotions that a man like this must feel as all the women in his life start bossing him around as if he knows nothing. Bossy females, from his beloved wife of over sixty years, to his two middle aged daughters, to his teenage granddaughter with Down Syndrome...prevent him from surveying the changes in the home he provided for his wife and daughters as well as for the extended family of relatives... near and dear, far and dear. The home of over fifty-eight years is being turned into an empty shell of a building. The home is always where the people are and now the people, my mother and father, are moving to be near the grandchildren.
We have arrived in their new home town. They are in their new apartment in the assisted living facility. My father is pleased with the new place. My mother has been pushed off the cliff so many times for so many details that she is beginning to curse and swear. My teenage daughter with Down Syndrome knows about these ugly words because her father and brother introduced her to the Rush Hour movies. One day I walked into the room where they were watching ... who knows what it was ... film #1, film #2, or film #3. My daughter looked up at me and said most kindly, "Mommy, you should leave. In a few moments Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker will use some very ugly words that you do not need to hear. Please leave." What would you do under these circumstances? I left the room.
That was a while ago. Rachel and I have discussed the fact that these ugly words are ugly. People speak them in great anger, frustration, and overwhelm. These words never seem to improve anything. Nonetheless they are real words.
My eighty-four year old mother is into all the new gadgets like the cell phones. But what does not please her at all is what my husband and I call "menu hell". She does not hear well so she really needs a humane human being at the other end of the line. These days that is becoming more and more uncommon. And so my daughter has heard her beloved bubbe screaming these ugly words. Most recently the anger was over Bubbe's inability to navigate through menu hell to get her phone, Internet, and television arranged in the new apartment.
"Bubbe, these are very ugly words you just shouted. This is not proper language. These words will not improve the moment. Perhaps you would like to try to practice some silence," Rachel said calmly. My mother, her bubbe, just closed the call and stared at her. Then came an apology.
Later in the day my mother admitted that cursing made her feel better even if it did not get her helpful service. She also promised me that she would watch her language. I am grateful. When my daughter uses these words I will be the one standing next to her getting the looks people give to incompetent parents. But Rachel will also correct her every slip.
An interesting thing is happening. As my mother comes unglued at the seams, my father seems to be regaining his vibrancy and strength. "I bet you never knew that your mother had a temper," he said to me. I did but in my entire lifetime I can count the expressions of anger on one hand with fingers left over.
There had been a terrible downpour. This is decades ago. It rained and rained and rained. And then it flooded our basement where the sewage waters ruined everything that they touched. Cleaning up was difficult and dangerous because of the electricity... my mother was exhausted... at a certain moment my mother started screaming like a Banshee at my father. He just stood there. And she continued screaming so long that my Uncle Ben from next door came running to the back of our house to see what tragedy could be happening. He arrived in time to hear my father say, "Okay, okay, I admit it. I made it rain." Mom began to laugh. He does understand .
A new era begins. Please G-d, may my parents know health and joy. May they learn how to travel a new path. G-d has blessed them. Baruch HaShem.
We have arrived in their new home town. They are in their new apartment in the assisted living facility. My father is pleased with the new place. My mother has been pushed off the cliff so many times for so many details that she is beginning to curse and swear. My teenage daughter with Down Syndrome knows about these ugly words because her father and brother introduced her to the Rush Hour movies. One day I walked into the room where they were watching ... who knows what it was ... film #1, film #2, or film #3. My daughter looked up at me and said most kindly, "Mommy, you should leave. In a few moments Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker will use some very ugly words that you do not need to hear. Please leave." What would you do under these circumstances? I left the room.
That was a while ago. Rachel and I have discussed the fact that these ugly words are ugly. People speak them in great anger, frustration, and overwhelm. These words never seem to improve anything. Nonetheless they are real words.
My eighty-four year old mother is into all the new gadgets like the cell phones. But what does not please her at all is what my husband and I call "menu hell". She does not hear well so she really needs a humane human being at the other end of the line. These days that is becoming more and more uncommon. And so my daughter has heard her beloved bubbe screaming these ugly words. Most recently the anger was over Bubbe's inability to navigate through menu hell to get her phone, Internet, and television arranged in the new apartment.
"Bubbe, these are very ugly words you just shouted. This is not proper language. These words will not improve the moment. Perhaps you would like to try to practice some silence," Rachel said calmly. My mother, her bubbe, just closed the call and stared at her. Then came an apology.
Later in the day my mother admitted that cursing made her feel better even if it did not get her helpful service. She also promised me that she would watch her language. I am grateful. When my daughter uses these words I will be the one standing next to her getting the looks people give to incompetent parents. But Rachel will also correct her every slip.
An interesting thing is happening. As my mother comes unglued at the seams, my father seems to be regaining his vibrancy and strength. "I bet you never knew that your mother had a temper," he said to me. I did but in my entire lifetime I can count the expressions of anger on one hand with fingers left over.
There had been a terrible downpour. This is decades ago. It rained and rained and rained. And then it flooded our basement where the sewage waters ruined everything that they touched. Cleaning up was difficult and dangerous because of the electricity... my mother was exhausted... at a certain moment my mother started screaming like a Banshee at my father. He just stood there. And she continued screaming so long that my Uncle Ben from next door came running to the back of our house to see what tragedy could be happening. He arrived in time to hear my father say, "Okay, okay, I admit it. I made it rain." Mom began to laugh. He does understand .
A new era begins. Please G-d, may my parents know health and joy. May they learn how to travel a new path. G-d has blessed them. Baruch HaShem.
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