Thursday, July 5, 2012

Life Is With People...

B"H, 


The Messenger is the Message...

"Why did you leave the building?  You told me that the building has a salon and barber shop. There is no reason to leave the building if the services you need are already there."

These were my sister's words when she learned that our parents had taken themselves to the JCPenney Salon at the mall.  Our mother had been watching the people who used the salon and barber shop in their new assisted living apartment building.  

"Anna, everyone who goes in there comes out looking the same.  I don't want to look like your father."  

Sounds reasonable to me... I wouldn't want to look like Sam... Actually, I don't think that it is possible... Oy, my big sister... a good soul, a loving soul, a fearful soul...  She would lock our parents in a padded cell to keep them safe forever.  Most folks, however, want their freedom.  



What is freedom?  I know what it is not... it is not uncontrolled license.  So, what IS freedom?  Freedom is communication perhaps.  


When my beloved daughter was born with Down Syndrome, the experts* told me she would never speak.  Oh, alright, maybe a short word or phrase would be possible.  And I as mother would understand her the best and even that would only be barely 50% of the time.  They said that having Down Syndrome meant she would never HAVE anything of value to say.  .. so it wouldn't matter that she didn't speak.


WRONG, WRONG, and WRONG.  She has a great deal to say and she says it well.


"Mommy, Tateh's meshuga," Rachel told me as she came into the kitchen.


"What do you mean, Tateh's meshuga?" I replied.


"Tateh say no hit people.  Tateh hit me," she proclaimed.


"WHAT!!!"  Dinner would have to wait.  I dry my hands to find my husband, aka Tateh.  "Sam, Rachel says you hit her."  


"She hit me, so I told her that we don't hit people.  Then I gave her a pahtch."


"Oy...you told her that we don't hit people and then you hit her?  Why did she hit you?"


"The pahtch was a punishment."  


"What happened?" I asked my son as I shook my head.  A hit is a hit whether you call it a pahtch, a smack, or a tap.


"Well, Tateh was rubbing Rachel's back.  She doesn't like that so she told him to stop.  He did not.  So, she said that he should please stop.  And still he was reeving up enough static electricity for the entire city.  So she smacked him.  Then he got all serious and said to her that we don't hit people.  And then he hit her on the hand as a punishment.  That is when she came to you."


Well, true is true.  He did hit her little hand and he is meshuga because you don't teach someone not to do something by doing it to them.  A smart man, Tateh, should know about these things... Perhaps he can begin to take his daughter seriously.  And perhaps she can refrain from hitting her father.




The Fourth of July, our Independence Day celebration... oh, how many of our family and friends struggled to get here.  ... 


May we try to appreciate what we take for granted...




Glossary:
expert - "X" is an unknown quantity and "spurt" is a drip under pressure



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