RIMKA 1 - REPOST

I am trying to determine, whether to repost Moriko or Rimka. I guess, I'll find out for sure, when I see the number of people, who "tune in" for either of the stories!                                                                     


CHAPTER 1

RIMKA

     He  awkwardly held a warm bundle, clutching his Red Army cap under the baby's bottom. He didn't see the wrinkled, red-faced child in front of him. In his mind, over and over again, he kept seeing his young wife, struggling to stay alive. Her beautiful face was swollen and inflamed, her body arching desperately as the seizures overtook her. And then, she lay lost, pale and empty. Yakov searched his heart for any tenderness toward the child in his arms, but all he could master, were the feelings of guilt and anger. The tall, handsome officer handed the baby to the nurse and quickly strode out of the maternity ward, his long army overcoat almost tripping him in the doorway. Three months later, still reeling from grief and all the blood he had shed, he'll write to his mother from the great Asian steppes, where he fought the enemies of the Soviet Union. He'll tell her about the death of his wife and about the baby who lay waiting in a small town hospital. 
Yakov couldn't know what the 

Grandmother Velya

abandonment of his daughter will cost her or her family.
     Grandmother Velya came to claim the little girl and took her back to Moscow. She called her Rimka and Rimka called her Momma. For a long while they were happy just to be together.


MEYER

Dad's father's real name was also Yakov. 
I changed the name to its English version of
Jacob to keep from confusing my readers. He is
here with his wife, Hannah.

        Meyer's dad heard a strange sound behind him. Standing on the ladder, he turned to look. Meyer gazed at his father's work with shining eyes and grinning from ear to ear. Ever since he was small, they noticed that he couldn't keep back this strangled laughter, whenever he encountered something beautiful. Right now, he watched his father, Jacob, painting the apartment and couldn't help admiring it. Instead of using just one flat color, Jacob made it look like the walls were draped in silk, by shading the tops and bottoms of the walls slightly darker and putting vertical lighter stripes and a pattern though the whole perimeter of the room, from top of the wall to the bottom, which made the effect of the light playing on silk even more pronounced.              Jacob smiled and returned to work. Meyer  was a lanky pre-teen, who always seemed to have a cold. His eyes were tiny and red rimmed, his ears stuck out of his head like huge mushrooms. Even so, he looked so amiable that almost everyone liked him immediately. His older brother, Lev, was the handsomest of the bunch: tall, with dark wavy hair and crinkly eyes, but he worried his parents the most.
     About a year ago, the family's 25 year old Russian helper, Daria, dropped a bomb: she was pregnant by 16 year old Lev. He confessed, in tears, but insisted that she seduced him. The family was

Here is my dad's whole family in
later years (excluding his brother, Samuel,
who disappeared in the WWII and father, who already died),
many years later. Dad is the third from the
left in the back raw.

mortified. Jacob wore out his belt, punishing Lev, then sent him to live with some relatives in Minsk. For many years after, he sent Daria money to support his grandchild, only to find out much later that Lev's daughter died in infancy. Daria tried to meet Lev again, but he's had enough of her. Neither Lev nor Jacob were ever the same after that affair.

Lev as an adult

MORIKO - repost

MORIKO

     Are you lonesome for some good story? A few months ago I wrote one about the events that could've happened in the Japanese side of my family. I called it

Moriko

      Bunsa saw the movement from the corner of his eye. Although there was nothing in these woods to harm him, an occasional highwayman could catch an unaware traveler. The forest was quiet and cool, and the sun beat on the path where Bunsa walked. He was not usually given to fancy imagining, but it seemed to him, that path was like his future: sometimes clear and sunny, sometimes disappearing around the shadowy bend of the mountain.
      Here it was again! Bunsa turned quickly and just managed to see a small fox lightly running among the trees. It was more gray than orange, the tail with it's white tip held cheerfully straight out.      As pragmatic as Bunsa was, "Kitsune", as the fox is called in Japan, was too strong of an omen to ignore, especially, taking into consideration the task for which Bunsa traveled to Nagano. A bride was waiting for him there, and the foxes were rumored to have an ability to assist in the matters of love. Was it a good spirit? Did he mean to trick Bunsa, or to become a faithful companion? Bunsa walked off the road, sat in the shade behind an ancient tree, took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He untied the kerchief from around his neck. Folded in it was all the food that he had left: three rice balls. He called out into the forest: "Kitsune-san, kitsune-san, come and have a meal with me!" Nothing happened. Bunsa saw some movement in the greenery to one side. He broke a piece off a rice ball and threw it there. Judging by the rapid scramble in the bush, he understood that, the fox accepted his offering.  Bunsa thought of a poet Issa's verse:"peeking out from the willow tree... face of a fox". He threw some more food to it, then ate one rice ball himself. It was so pleasant to sit there, with the rough bark of the tree at his aching back. Eventually, he slid down and closed his eyes. 
     When he came to, the birds were picking what was left of his last rice ball. He sighed and got up. What was he thinking? A fox was not going to help with his problems! Before Bunsa went around the bend, he looked back: the fox was nosing around in the place where he slept. Then it sat up and watched Bunsa go. The fox's small open mouth and crafty, squinted eyes made it look like it was smiling.

My husband's ancestor,
Bunsa Toyoda, on whose
life I based (more like made up) this story

Copyright protected

COOL CATS, HOT CATS.

     Hanah came for a visit before she goes back to Arcata (7 hours away from here by car) to finish another semester of college. This time there were no Japanese cousins to occupy her room, so she stayed there.
   
I suspect (I might be wrong, of course) that, her first inclination was to spend days, lying on the couch, watching videos and listening to music. Fortunately - unfortunately, we hired carpet cleaners to take care of our floors, before Serena arrives. The situation was really desperate!
     All of us had to, so to speak, get into the yoke and pull, getting all the junk, cluttering the house, out. It got really dirty, before it got a little cleaner, though!
     We pulled it off without a hitch! The carpet cleaners came, did their job and left.      They missed one of the spots, of course, where Chickie or Sylvie marked the living room as their territory in the living room, and my daughter went beyond the call of duty, washing it, until the smell disappeared! I am so proud: this is a new sign of maturity in her!
     

One evening I wasn't as excited. Despite my objections, Hanah shaved the hair on one side of her head. I am still trying to figure out, why I felt such anxiety and heartbreak. Could it be, I am concerned, whether she will be pretty enough to attract male attention? Or whether she will attract unwanted attention from some bohemians?
   
 
     My misgivings didn't make any difference: she did as she pleased.
Then, for a couple of days Hanah was sick. She thought, it was strep throat, and we went to get a swab for it. Fortunately, it was something else, and she didn't have to take antibiotics.

    






     What about Sonny, you ask?

     He began to work at Macy's. A few days a week he dons on black shirt, black pants and shoes, as well as a name tag with Macy's logo on it. He disappears only to return with sore feet and a satisfied smirk on his face.
      Yesterday I understood, what my own mother went through, not knowing, where, the H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks, I was. Sonny left at five in the morning, promising to return at two in the afternoon, and didn't come back 'til 5! It turned out, somehow his schedule changed, and he had to work for 9 hours that day!
     Did you hear about El Nino? Some of those scientist types are promising us rain and cold, bit what we got is a heat wave!
                                  I object! 
It's hard not only to work in such weather (98 F or 36.6667 C), but also to stay alive! Chickie doesn't even mind sleeping next to an improvised cooler, concocted by Hanah, when she saw him lying, like a dead cat!

RUBBER BAND TIME

     My husband's niece is coming from Japan to study

Reina

English. Her sister, Reina, was here last year, and she - and we - had very busy, productive and fun time together. At least, I hope, that's what she thought!
     I said, the niece is coming from Japan, but, in reality, that Japanese girl lives and studies in Korea. Her parents sent her and her sisters there in order to absorb "the Motherland" culture. They are a part of the Unificationist movement, you see, and believe that, Korea is the "chosen nation" and all that ... stuff...
I don't agree with that anymore, but I like my sister- and brother-in-law, as well as their kids!
     Time here seems to be like a rubber band: sometimes it stretches on and on, and then snaps and flies as fast as lightning! Suddenly, I have a lot to do: appointments and preparations fill up my days. Today a physical therapist will come for the first visit with Roberta. The house needs to be cleaned and de-cluttered. 
     Sonny found a job in Macy's. Today he'll go to fill out some papers for his employment. Until now he stayed up nights and slept during the day. It looks like I'll have a heck of a time every morning getting him out of bed and to work! 
     Well, as you see, there are a lot of new beginnings and hopes in our household, as well as anxiety about the future. Pray for us!

KILLER MATTRESSES AND LUCK IN MAHJONG

     Roberta fell again. She, somehow, upended a mattress, standing behind her door (I should've removed it a long time ago). I heard a bump and ran to her room. I couldn't open the door: the mattress blocked it. Roberta lay crumpled on the floor next to the bed. 
     Sonny was able to get in through a crack in the door and opened it for me. I later understood that, Roberta was unconscious for a couple of minutes. Then she came to, and we lifted her onto the bed. She hit her back and head on the bed's metal rail. There was a big bruise on her side, but no blood or bumps on her head. 
     Just recently we spent five hours in the ER. Neither Roberta nor I wanted to repeat that experience. It might've been a mistake, but we still didn't go there. Roberta is unsteady on her feet, her back and head are tender to the touch.
     Yesterday was Tuesday and the mahjong day! I convinced Roberta to stay home this time: there was no way she could take the hours of sitting and talking.      Doris, Victoria and I met at Mary's house. She made some snacks, and I also brought  chips and sweets. We talked comfortably, sharing our lives and experiences with each other.
     Then it was time to play. 
     I love mahjong! It takes patience, especially, with Daniel - Mary's nine year old son, chattering, like a monkey, at my elbow. All of us played to win, but I won four ((count it!)) - four - times out of five! It could be my Jewish scepticism, but I keep thinking, something must be wrong in the Universe, if I'm having such luck!
     My friends restrained themselves from strangling  me, and we ended our get-together in loving and happy ways. 

BY THE GRACE OF GOD - repost

Gospodi, pomiluy!
                                       Lord, have mercy!
     I made peace with and am happy to acknowledge all the changes that took place in my relationship with Taka, my husband, although we have a long way to go yet. I am less depressed or prone to drama. All this progress I attribute to God's mercy. 
     At first, actually, I wanted to say: I attribute this progress to starting to write this blog and stories, which I always wanted to do, but didn't have the guts to try. I was also looking for a way to develop my character and understand the reasons for all the problems I have completing the tasks or living up to a standard, which I, myself, uphold. Working with my counselor, Mr. P. and learning just a bit from the Al Anon meetings helped me immeasurably. 
     Still, all of these reasons for my advance as a human being pale in comparison to one fundamental truth and reality: God's Mercy.
     And yet, I complain. My health is poor. I struggle with one thing after another to feel better, but, more often than not, manage to just keep my head above the water. "I can't live like that anymore!" Yet, I hear of people, born without arms and legs, who lead lives, full of gratitude and benefit to others. I hear of the people, who lose everything to disasters or wars. What right do I have to complain about small discomforts in my life?
     We are fortunate people! Not only Heavenly Father does grants us His Mercy, He also imbues us with the sense of hope and the ability to find the right perspective to life. The gifts we have: the Earth, the air, the beauty and goodness of the nature. They are given to us for free! How great it is to come outside after staying home with a sickness and take a breath of fresh air or feel strength in my legs after not being able to move freely! 
     By the Grace of God we exist. But Grace stays alive only if it can flow through us to others. Like a stream feeding a lake, it needs to find an outlet, or the body of water will turn into a rancid bog. 
     Let's bring God's Grace to those around us! Let us be the conduits, the vessels, through whom the humanity and the world can find the ability to live well in harmony, to breathe freely and build into a mighty stream of positive energy to enhance our corner of the Universe!

WHAT'S IT GONNA BE LIKE WHEN WE ARE OLD...

     What's new? Not so much. Although...
     I talked Mary into going to see a play at Hanah's theater in Santa Rosa. She, in turn, talked her sisters into coming with us. One of them lives in Santa Rosa. We made big plans, which I related to my family and Roberta...
     On the night before the trip she fell. Landed on her right side, bruising a cheekbone and her hip. 
She didn't look too bad, but the memory of my dad's final fall and fatal consequences of it were nagging in my mind. On Saturday there was no chance in my mind, I would go to Santa Rosa!
     We went to the ER instead. Five hours later it was determined that, Roberta didn't do to herself any life threatening damage, but that she, probably, fell down because she was dehydrated and had a urinary tract infection. They decided to keep her in the hospital for a few days.
     In the meanwhile, Mary and one of her sisters drove to Santa Rosa to meet with another one of their siblings. They didn't make it to the theater, but had a good time, nevertheless. 
     When I went to see Roberta the next day, I found her in the company of a nurse. It turned out, she became suspicious of all the fuss the staff was making over her and decided that she didn't have to take it anymore. She pulled out her IV and slapped the nurses' hands away, as they tried to take care of her!
I spent some time, trying to pacify her. The doctor was supposed to come in the morning, the next day, so I came back early and for four hours 
(f-o-u-r  h-o-u-r-s!) sat by Roberta's room, waiting for him. The nurses told me, he was on the floor, and even went to let him know, I was waiting. He never came. 
     Roberta's aggressive attitude changed into pleasant delirium. She pointed at some place in the room and said, there was something moving there. Then she discussed with me a picture, that hung in front of her on the wall. Apparently, amid the flower gardens depicted there, my friend saw a cat and a man in a black hat, standing behind the bushes. As the day progressed, I was regaled with more and more fantastic tales. The shoes were flying and someone was walking outside toward our window. The fact that, we were on the third floor, didn't seem to bother Roberta at all!
     Four hours later I've had my fill. I left the hospital, drove home and... got a phone call from the elusive doctor, saying, they were letting Roberta out that day! Ah, what's the use complaining about it!
     Once in her familiar environment, Roberta began

Chickie is making Roberta
feel better

to get her wits back. Oh, there was a moment when my knees almost gave out, as she handed me her TV remote control and irritably asked to change it back to speaking English. I heard it already speaking English, but she didn't! Fortunately, when I switched the channel to her favorite program, she discovered, she can understand "Chinese", afterwards!
     I am amazed, how easy it is to get confused! All it took is a little infection and the loss of the familiar circumstances, and Roberta lost her marbles. What'll it be like, when I am her age?