My son Rafi’s thoughts on COVID:19

Today I am proudly sharing my son Rafi’s thoughts on COVID:19. I think you will agree he is more able than I to express his heartfelt feelings about these troubling times.

I feel so lucky to have Rafi, his lovely wife Chandra, and my brilliant, wonderful grandson Remy, whom they are raising so well, in my life. (Do I sound like a grandma???)

Here’s what Rafi wrote. I thank him for allowing me to share it with you.

 

I tend not to pray
I hope, I wish, I ask, I wonder
But pray I have chosen to not

Today, however, I find myself hungering for a prayer
A prayer for the homeless and the housed, the young and the old, the unknown and the celebrated, the powerless and the powerful
A prayer for those less fortunate and for those who have more

This crisis brings us into balance, the fear heightens our commonality, and the unknown leaves us without answers.  All of us.  Together

As we face this adversary, we are all on equal footing – we sit in isolation, we work, we learn, we argue and love in virtual worlds.  All of us. Together

Today tests our sense of accomplishment, our goals and ambitions for the future
For why be earnest if tomorrow never comes?  Why begin when the end is nigh?

Why?  Because we are in this.  All of us.  Together.

I hunger for and have found my prayer
It is in the sun that rises and sets, in the blossoms that are born in the spring, and in the “we” that perseveres
It is that hope is a harbinger of these cycles’ continuum
It is that in my wife, my son, and our extended families I find happiness when there seems none to have
It is that we can find community in friends old and new, and in neighbors who leave a loaf of homemade bread at your door
It is from the hugs that will be had and the glasses that will be clinked
It is from the fact that tomorrow brings with it the potential for more than what exists today

Chandra, Remy and Rafi

I tend not to pray
I hope, I wish, I ask, I wonder
But pray, I have been chosen to

By: Rafi Kauffmann

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COVID: 19 — Thank you…

I love people and miss seeing dear ones ordinarily in my life, but I’m also aware I owe many a big thank you. Some are friends and neighbors, and others are strangers. If I listed all of them, this would be a book and not a post, so forgive me if I haven’t mentioned you, you matter too.

 

Thank you to:
Friends and family who keep in touch so often by phone and email.

The people in my neighborhood who write: ‘Things will get better’ on the sidewalks in chalk.

Neighbor Mairona and friend Chris, who, upon reading my post complaining about not having enough reading material, each delivered bags of books to my door.

Mairona and her husband Wayne, who are always willing to pick up anything I may need.
Garth, whom I miss seeing at my favorite local cafe, who sends me beautiful cards and notes.

My dear ‘daughter’ Amy who goes shopping for me, arrives at my door wearing a mask and hands me my groceries, and checks in often by phone.

Those who step off the curb to be at the proper distance when they see this old gray-haired woman pushing her walker on our narrow sidewalks. (It is more difficult for me to do that. I always thank them.)

Joe wearing his Vancouver T-Shirt

My dear Beverly Hills friend Joe, who understands me and regularly puts up with my nutty ideas.

The strangers who, after I thank them for giving me space, have chatted with me from a safe distance as we pass each other. It helps me feel less isolated.

My son Rafi, who calls me just about every day, and my daughter Susan as well, who checks in so often.

Alison, my ‘granddaughter’ who calls me almost every day too.

Alison’s dad, who took the time out of his own busy schedule, (he’s a medical doctor) to drive her over so Alison and I could have a SAFE chat in person, both of us in masks out on the sidewalk.

All my friends who check in with me.

The woman I don’t know, whom I told I missed hugs most of all, who offered me one from a distance. I returned it. It isn’t the same, but it helped.

 

And, speaking of hugs, if you know me personally, know that I’m keeping track of all the hugs you owe me and I intend to collect for sure when this is all over.

 

A winter wonderland….

That’s my Inukshuk pretending he’s a snowman

It’s below zero and very cold out. It snowed. Then it snowed again. And now, it’s snowing even more and the wind has decided to join the fun and play ring-a-round-the-rosy.

Huge snowflakes wiggle seductively this way and that like pole-dancers looking for a lap to land on. They rudely push each other about until they find a spot that feels good.

 

They’re careful as they create perfectly fitting marshmallow tops to cover the pots on my balcony. Maybe they’re concerned about my baby garlic plants growing under their white covers. Is that why they work so hard to knit their puffy blankets?

 

My neighbor Wayne filmed this beautiful bird, a Towhee (I’m told)

 

Jerry, my Inukshuk, who lives under my miniature tree thinks he’s back in the Arctic. He’s playing peak-a-boo with me and pretending he’s a snowman. He thinks I don’t know who he is, but I’d know him anywhere — silly guy. At least he’s wise enough to wear a warm, white cap on his head to keep his ears warm.

 

looking north from my window

The Northern mountains have been gone for days. They probably went south to visit my friend Joe in Beverly Hills, where it doesn’t snow at all. And who can blame them? They’re not used to this extra cold weather , especially without our beautiful clouds to wrap them in their arms. What the heck, why stick around?

I’m inside for the duration. Schools and universities are closed, my exercise classes are cancelled, flights aren’t going anywhere and the ferries aren’t running to the islands. Our buses are slipping and sliding on the icy streets and can’t make it up the hills, while those brave enough to drive, are often ending up in ditches. None of us are accustomed to this kind of weather and we aren’t equipped for it. People like me are wisely staying in to avoid falls.

 

After opening my balcony door for my good neighbor,

A marshmallow on Wayne’s table

Wayne, who took these photos, I can’t get the darn door to close properly. (Don’t worry, I’ll work on it.) And, didn’t Wayne do a fabulous job? He also went shopping for some of us who needed help. (I needed milk.)

I’m not bored. I’ve taken care of a lot of things which needed attention inside my apartment. It makes me feel so noble. So, in spite of everything, I look out the window and wonder at the beauty of it all.

It is, indeed, a winter wonderland….

1,2,3,4 long days without my computer….

My

In spite of my admiration for Catherine the Great and Empress

My knight in shining armor

Wu, right now my friend/neighbor Wayne is my new hero. My computer collapsed. Poor thing had to be hospitalized and have surgery. Wayne carried it gently down to his car and drove it to the Apple hospital, where they deemed it too old to bother with. (Apple must be hard up for cash and needs us to purchase new ones. Make a donation if you can.)

My ailing old computer

Undaunted, gallant Wayne found somewhere else to take my ailing computer, drove it there and after a few harrowing days, brought it back to me. I was more than willing to shell out the $392 required for a new video processor chip, whatever that is.

Meanwhile, I had fretted and lost sleep over the possibility of losing everything on it. Worrying, as you know, is something I excel in. However, I also learned how much time I spend on this electronic contraption. I now must admit I’m addicted and I missed it terribly.

Without my computer I had no excuses

This monster takes up so much of my time, there are dozens of obvious tasks-to-do I pass by each day and think I must take care of ‘one of these days’. Well, these four days ended up being those days. I couldn’t produce any other delaying tactics not to do them.

Instead of checking my email and seeing how many visited my blog first thing in the day, I made my often neglected bed every morning. Then, although I attend Tai Chi every Monday, plus exercise classes on Wednesdays and Fridays, I managed — in addition to get on my Exercycle and Stepper three times during the four days without electronic distractions. (The last time I’d managed time for that was March 8th!) I also managed to daily do the physio-recommended arm exercises for my torn tendons.

My desk is now neater…

I have oodles of paper left over from my old printer which require detaching before I can use them in my new one. I now have a respectable stack ready and prepared. My desk is also somewhat neater. I filed many papers which had sat there for months. Papers and documents awaiting shredding got shredded and properly recycled. At last, my 2016 phone book/calendar got disposed of, with all your names and phone numbers safely shredded as well. Long neglected, shocked loved ones and friends received phone calls out of the blue. I feel so noble!

My kitchen received attention as well. I neatened up my ‘plastic bag’ drawer, piling various bags high on my counter, after which I diligently separated them by size. I carefully weighed the separated stacks down in the drawer with paperweights. (I did this in spite of son Rafi’s warning that this madness would indicate to visitors that I’m neat, thus making them uncomfortable in my home.) After that, I attacked my wealth of plastic containers, matching tops and bottoms, and discarding all those I couldn’t fix up with anyone. Then, because I;d rather not go out when it snows, I’d accumulated extra ‘just in case’ food supplies during winter, I pulled everything down from those crowded cabinets and put things in order. Can you imagine?

I cleaned up the winter debris

Nor did my balcony get overlooked in this frenzy. On a rain-less day, I got out there and cleared up the debris left over from winter. My outdoor pots are now ‘almost’ pristine and ready for spring planting. You’ve got to be impressed!

Well, now I have my computer back and this ain’t gonna happen again for (hopefully) a very long time. I’m back. Thank goodness for small favors! I was even driving myself crazy…..

2017 in review

Front: Carol, Judy, me, Donna. Back: Carla, Peter

2017 brought losses — friends Peter and Carla, and I’m afraid Georgina too. Two others no longer remember me. I’ll miss them also. However, I met Grace and Howard this year, and look forward to getting to know them better. Linda, too, came into my life and she’s a treasure. I’ve met Marion in our new Tai Chi class and since Val’s in it too, I’ll get to see more of them both.

Didn’t go anywhere in 2016. Couldn’t even walk! Wasted dollars on travel health insurance I never used. 2017, too, began dismally. Something had to be done. Bless Judy, she came with me to see Dr. Gredanis and filled out forms for me to get a new hip. Friends and neighbors like Amy and David, Wayne and Mairona, Linda, Vinson, Judy, Marlene, and others kept cabinets and fridge stocked and got me wherever I needed to go.

2017 also brought some accomplishments. Our book club’s list of ‘Books Read’ is now over 200! We’re pleased with ourselves. I organized a new Tai Chi class with help from Jean, our kind new instructor. She’s absolutely the right person to lead us. Some of the old gang had nagged about missing the class, Jean happened along and viola. We have a class! I then realized my own balance needs a lot of work, so it’s all good.

My new hip happened on March 17, with Susan at my side. Rafi came afterwards. They didn’t want me home alone between hospital discharge and Rafi’s visit, so dear Trudy came to stay. Samantha dropped in on a Sunday morning for the real biggie. I wanted to see if I could manage a real bath. (I love baths.) I made it! Talk about joy….

Having fun in Nevada

I traveled in 2017. July found me in Nevada, visiting daughter Susan and her Michael. Why not make it a birthday celebration? The San Francisco contingent joined us and spent the week, and dear Joe, all the way from L.A. made it a birthday I’ll never forget. He ordered bagels, smoked salmon, and cream cheese for our breakfast, plus a huge birthday balloon, all delivered from Reno up to us in the mountains! He hand painted a lovely coffee mug, which waited for me in a package with coffee and cookies for added pleasure. What a guy!

Joe had called regularly while I was in hospital and was the one who realized my nausea was due to the morphine. (I’d assumed I was having a vestibular reaction to the stress of surgery.) He was right! Joe’s often right.

Joe, me, Rebecca

The next trip was to my kids in San Francisco, where I

Joe’s Susan and me in their gift, a RED wrap

was spoiled rotten again. I got to see my Chandra climb the scaffolding most days while the outside of their home was being painted. (Rafi, like me, is uncomfortable with heights.) Then, I took the train to L.A., and stayed with my kind-of (but no less beloved) kids Rebecca and Brian, who spoiled me rotten yet again, and so if you notice how spoiled I am, you know why. Joe’s Susan invited us to a lovely family dinner, where Joe and I ‘entertained’ with a short skit he wrote. We exchanged gifts and hugs — it just doesn’t get better.

These are not all the 2017 happenings. I quickly returned to Keno’s exercise classes and worked really hard at trying to regain my leg muscle strength, Wayne lent me (then told me I could keep) a ‘stepper’ which I’ve been using to help me get stronger, and after two years being unable to use it, I’m finally back on my Exercycle.
It was a very good year…..

 

It’s a rant — about entitlement

I can also have fun — here recently with Vinson

Grrrrr. Why is it some people feel they’re ‘entitled’? I

Rapist entitled????

hear on CBC radio that a young man admits he raped his girlfriend because he wanted sex and felt he was ‘entitled’. Entitled? Yes, he really said that. Is this what we teach our sons? They’re entitled?

A woman arrives late to an exercise class and declares to another already seated, she’s sitting in ‘her’ seat. When did the latecomer buy that seat I wonder? What makes her think she’s entitled to it. The first woman gives her seat up. I wish she hadn’t. What is this nonsense anyway?

Move. You’re in my seat!

I join an art class at a senior centre, arrive before anyone else on the first day of the new season, pick a seat where I feel the light will serve me and my vision well, and wait for class to start. When the others arrive, I’m told my seat belongs to someone else. I give up the seat, but don’t return. Since when do seats belong to anyone???

I, myself, prefer a particular table at the local cafe where I like to have coffee in the morning. The light there is good for reading. It’s closer to the milk for my coffee and, yes, I have dealt with pain when walking. I do like to sit there. I arrive later one morning and a woman I don’t know is sitting there. She asks if I want ‘my’ seat. My seat? I tell her I don’t own any seat at the cafe. Did she think I’d ask her to move? Not me..

Our strata has rules. They supposedly apply to all of us. I try to abide by them. One is that we are not to leave personal belongings in common areas. However some owners feel entitled to do so. Last week, while attending a Strata Council meeting, I note personal stuff abounds in our hobby room. How come? Why are certain individuals entitled to break rules I’d never break. No one is ‘entitled’.

trash disposed of in our woods by the ‘entitled’

I hear about wonderful volunteers clearing up local wooded areas, where they need to remove tons of disposed garbage, old cars, broken furniture, rusting machines and all kinds of unwanted items. What’s going on? What kind of world are we leaving to our grand-children?

We have too much of this self-centered behavior. No one is ‘entitled’ to ruin our environment because they don’t want to pay or bother to dispose of items properly. If you are guilty, stop.

There is nothing new with people feeling entitled, I recall reading about the unsavory, rather vile composer Wagner. If ever anyone ever existed who felt ‘entitlement’, it was he. He’d park himself and his wife in your home, sponge money off you, never pay it

Wagner

back, and sleep with your wife. He readily accepted help from friends and then wrote nasty articles about them in the press. This man really believed he should be provided for by others because he was a ‘genius’ and ‘entitled’ to be given whatever he wanted so he could pursue his ambitions. Let’s not emulate him. (I would have preferred not to like any of his music, but I can’t say that is true. I do like some of it.)

Whew! Glad to get this off my chest. The idea of ‘entitlement’ has been bothering me of late.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Kindness of Strangers

Stranger in a red coat

A stranger in a bright red raincoat came up from behind me as I plodded across the busy intersection as fast as I could, but not fast enough — the light had already changed to red. ‘I’ll walk beside you’ she said, ‘They won’t want to hit both of us.’

My knee is mad at me so I use a walker. It helps, not only with my angry knee, but also with my old balance disorder, which has caused many falls through the years. (That’s why my knee is so upset.) The woman realized I was having a difficult time and decided to help a stranger. Why?

In my neighborhood, many shops have handicapped door operators which you push to open the door. Still, passersby who don’t realize that often stop on their way to pull a door open for me. My favorite morning breakfast stop has one, which occasionally isn’t operative yet if I arrive early. (The activator is above the door — I think the staff can’t reach it.) A favorite, tall fellow patron, Greg, will get up and switch it on if he sees me coming. Nice….but why?

Handicapped Door operator

The other morning, Greg noticed my walker wheels were caked with what he thought was dog poop. He warned me about it, but I continued reading. I’m such a passionate reader, I didn’t even notice when he and his pal Garth wheeled my walker out the door, cleaned it so I wouldn’t have to deal with it later, and brought it back in. (I’m hoping they were wrong, that what they cleaned was actually ground up wet brown leaves which gather at the sidewalk cuts I have to use.) Why did they bother?

Bus drivers deal with some abusive riders

I regularly attend exercise classes at a community centre. I no longer drive. I use transit. How do bus drivers in this busy city who deal with mentally ill and abusive riders plus crazy traffic manage to stay so considerate? They wait until I’m seated before starting the bus. They patiently wait again for me to painfully rise and slowly back off the vehicle with my walker. (It was a bus driver who taught me that it’s the safest way to leave.)

This week I told a driver I wish I could sit on my walker on the bus. It’s higher and less painful to rise from. At my stop, she urged me to take the time to place it in a particular spot, set the brakes, and see if it would work. Not wanting to make her late, (they are on schedules) I told her I’d try it next time I rode a bus. Hey, it works. I hope I see her again so I can thank her. I’ve since used her idea twice. Why did an absolute stranger do this?

Then, the volunteer who sells coffee once a week at the center carries my coffee to a nearby table for me. It’s difficult for me to manage that and the walker — multitasking was never my thing. He says he’s not allowed to accept tips, I never ask him to do it, but he does it anyway. Why?

What makes so many strangers so kind? For one, I believe most people are inherently good. I also know that when I am kind to others, it gives ME a warm fuzzy. So it goes…..we give, we get. I am ever grateful to my wonderful caring family, to my friends, and especially those many strangers who are there for me. Warm hugs to you all!

My son’s beautiful wife Chandra who worked so very hard to plan a special 80th birthday party for me. She succeeded.

You CAN Fight City Hall

On his recent visit, my son brought me some old files. It’s been interesting going through them. They included essays and papers from classes I took years ago, and stuff relating to several battles I participated in with the City of Los Angeles about 35 years ago. Guess I’ve been a troublemaker for a long time.

Let’s face it, you don’t win them all. When I gathered 115 signatures in my effort to obtain a light at a dangerous corner nearby, (after a dear friend crossing to catch a bus was killed) I lost — even though he was the third person to lose his life at that intersection in five years. Cities prefer to keep traffic moving…. (Remember Los Angeles is a city built for automobiles.)

Freeways in L.A.
The city was built for automobiles.)

In 1977, a proposed zone change would have allowed the neighbor right across from us to tear down his home and replace it with townhouses. After I made my presentation to the City Planning Commission, I was asked to forward a copy to a member of the Commission. I still have it. In reading it now, I see that I used the research I had already done on that dangerous corner to add fuel to my argument. (*****If you want to read my talk, I’ve copied it out below.)

We won! Should we have??

In retrospect I don’t think so.

Why then did it happen??

I believe our adversary underestimated his opposition and didn’t prepare for it, which we did. We were more organized, had done our research, and were ready with facts, figures, multiple signatures and support from the Home Owners Association. The work we did on this fight, prepared us well for the next which was much more of a challenge. I’ll write about that one later.

Good luck to you in your battles.

I love the tall palm trees in Los Angeles

*****Here’s my presentation to the Los Angeles City Planning Commission:

1) I wish to submit signatures of approximately 65 neighbors who, because ours is a community of working people, are unable to be here today. Because I myself am a working person, I didn’t have the time to reach others. Please envision all these neighbors as standing beside me.

2) W… is already overbuilt and mostly zoned for multiple dwellings. Our little remaining bastion of single homes is surrounded by large high-rises on W… and B.G, plus on the south and west of us, there are also apartments and condominiums.

3) In the immediate area, we helplessly watched a huge apartment complex built at T… and E… and we suffer the consequences of overflow parking and additional traffic. Now we deal with a new hardship. A private high school opened this year at the deadly corner of T… and S.M. Their students come from other areas by car and have to park in front of our homes — more cars, more traffic congestion.

4) So that you will be aware of already existing traffic conditions, I have brought copies of a letter written in March, 1977 to Councilman Y… and signed by about 115 neighbors who are concerned about the hazardous corner of S.M. and T… (one block from the proposed zone change) where three residents were killed over a 5-year period. This is to stress our concern over existing traffic conditions in our community.

5) The people moving into our area now are young families with small children who do not wish to join the flight from our cities to the suburbs. They want to offer their children something more than the sameness of suburbia where everyone is the same age, earns the same amount of money, and lives in the same kind of house. We are pleased with our community’s mixture of old and young, professional and working people, where our children learn and benefit from our elderly neighbors.

It behooves us, for the well-being of our city, to maintain this kind of neighborhood. Families need the breathing space that single residences afford and ours is the last such neighborhood remaining in W.. this side of W..

We are fearful! Our young families will move out and our community will be destroyed if this change of zone is granted. On what premise could further changes of zoning be refused in our neighborhood if this one is approved? If this request is granted, the community in which we live and which we love will be wiped out.

It is important to note here that the A…’s are in the real estate business and knowledgeable. They make their livelihood selling property right in our neighborhood. As a matter of fact, they sold me my home. Not only do the A…’s have a vested interest in the well-being of our community, I feel they have an obligation to their friends, neighbors, clients, and the neighborhood in which they have thrived and raised their sons. They should be taking an active part in the preservation and maintenance of our area rather than in the destruction of same. In this instance, they are allowing the idea of immediate monetary gain to color their good judgement. I feel betrayed. They raised their sons here and I want to raise my three children here as well. I ask them to withdraw their application for change of zone and in the interest of our community, I ask the city Planning Commission to refuse it.

Thank you.