NOT MUCH OF A NEWS

     What's new? I have trouble finding a topic for my next post. 
     Days blend into one another, and I often am surprised, when Saturday, when we do the weekly grocery shopping, rolls is. "What? The week is gone already?!" 
     Roberta looks particularly posh and festive in a new, burgundy colored, velour robe - a Christmas present from an acquaintance. Despite Taka's reluctance to commit to buying presents during these Holidays, I went online and purchased some gifts for a few people in the family. I yet have to get an idea, what to give to my husband. 
     That's about all the news there is. See you tomorrow!

BETTER TO BE PATIENT... I THINK

     It's 6 am, and I've been awake already for two hours. First, I heard Roberta's walker scrape into the dinette. She got up and wanted a snack. I offered her some yogurt and went back to bed, only to be woken up again by Sonny, leaving for work. Then Taka turned on the light for the weekly 5 o'clock prayer.          
     Since I decided to leave the Unification Church, I   don't participate anymore in that ritual of bowing to Mr. and Mrs. Moon's picture, reciting "the Pledge" - a set of promises to be good little soldiers for the Moon's movement, and a prayer. 
     It's a good thing, there is nothing scheduled for today, and I can stay in bed until 10! That's if nothing else comes up, that'll deprive me of sleep...
     I guess, that's - normal family life. Of course, there is nothing normal about one spouse bowing to the ground to a picture of people, whom the other spouse despises. But, I think, it's better for me to tolerate Taka's adherence to the Unification Church rituals, as long as he tolerates my desire to become a Christian. I feel, we both are walking a thin rope, trying to find balance between our beliefs.
   

THINGS WERE LOOKING PRETTY GRIM, BUT...

     

Encouraged by Mr. P., I asked Taka, if it was possible for him to treat me with a little more kindness. By that I meant, being attentive and not get resentful, when his needs weren't met, when I wasn't feeling well. 
     Taka didn't much like, what I told him. He did get resentful and wouldn't let me finish even one sentence! I told him then: if it was so impossible for him to open his mind and ears, when I pled for understanding, it could be better, if we separated. 
     Some of you might think, I am a vain and foolish woman, demanding, what her husband is unwilling to offer, even at the cost of the marriage. I as well many times ask myself, whether that's so. 
     Taka's response? At first he readily agreed with me. We had a couple of days, when I felt like the Earth fell away from under my feet and prayed a lot, and he... he either began to Google, how much it could cost him to separate from me, or also prayed for guidance. I don't know. The fact was: he began to ask me about how I felt and kiss me goodbye in the mornings, which didn't happen for the last few decades!
     Now he is back to ignoring me, but it could be because he is very busy at work and with whatever he does in his office. 
     Nevertheless, I praise my Heavenly Father for Taka changing his behavior for the better! Perhaps, it's not too late for us, and I can find real affection in my marriage!   

LEG UP AND FACE OFF!

     I'm doing better. My foot doesn't hurt, when I'm at rest, and I can be grateful for that!
     I hurt the insole (under the arch) of one foot about a month ago. It's still giving me trouble. I now am able to do some light housework and cook, but every ten minutes or so I have to sit down and gather some courage to continue. 
     And then, one night I tried to get off the couch, and a thigh muscle on my other leg just seized with pain! Sonny tried to help me, but it hurt terribly, so I couldn't make myself get up. Sonny woke up Taka, who pulled me up (I screamed), sat me on Roberta's walker, named Mercedes, and wheeled me to the bathroom. 
     I spent hellish few days. When Sonny and Taka were at work or too occupied to help me, I had to steel myself in order to rise from a sitting or lying position in order to hobble somewhere in terrific pain. I just made up my mind that, it was a blood clot in my thigh, getting ready to not only deprive me of one of my limbs, but also to fly suddenly into the lungs or the brain and kill me instantly! 
     I emailed my Nurse Practitioner. She assured me: my symptoms didn't sound like a blood clot. Then, like most everything in the world, the pain passed. Now I thank God for every day with less suffering, than I already endured.
     
I am happy to report: Sonny helped me a lot during that time. He did most of the house chores, as well as

My bearded son

went grocery shopping and, to some degree, took care of Roberta. Taka immediately flew into his "I know, what you have to do!" moods and began to give me lectures on nutrition and exercise. 
     I didn't mind. You see, a few days before we had a real face off!
     Tune in to the next post for a spine-tingling explanation
   

PROBLEMS: SMELLY AND OTHERWISE

     I don't know exactly, why I stopped writing. I look for reasons in my mind, but feel only emptiness. Writing made me happy. Now I feel hollow and depressed.
     But life goes on! Hanah still didn't send me a word or an explanation for her silence, but recently she invited me to be "friends" with her on Facebook and, on the one hand, I now can catch glimpses of her life from her posts on Facebook. Then she began to send me songs with titles like: "I will always love you" or "You are so beautiful to me". I started to worry that, something heavy weighs on her conscience, making her send me such musical declarations!
     Chikie also worried me. He stopped eating dry cat food, which we buy for our two and a half cats (remember the street kitty, Goldie, who comes for meals to our back door?). My male cat would sit over his little dish, pick up a morsel in his mouth and spit it out again. We thought, the reason could be his teeth: he is about thirteen years old already! As we saw him tear into and gobble up raw meat, we understood: teeth couldn't be the right cause of his trouble. 

     Chikie continued to boycott the dry food and getting scrawnier and scrawnier. We almost gave in, feeding him the leftovers from our meals. Then Sonny tried to experiment by buying some wet cat food. It looked like Chikie relented and eagerly adopted to his new diet. One problem was, Sylvie, who never before was picky, felt, we ought to also give her new delicious food! Her little body began to fill out at an alarming rate, after she ate both kinds of sustenance, and resemble a furry, gray ottoman! 
     Before it was so easy to pour some fishy smelling pellets into each cat's dish. Now we had to deal with much smellier canned food, as well as with the mess left, after cats smeared it half in their dishes and half on the floor. 
     Then we bought some dry fare for Goldie. In a while Chikie noticed us giving it to her, and suddenly that was all he wanted too! Cats: they are too much like humans! God forbid, they'll ever take over the world: there'll be no end to the envy and conquest wars! 
                                               

Chikie "under the
influence" of catnip

     
   
   
   

THAT'S ALL

     We are fine. We work, talk, eat (a lot), drive (a little, since the cars give us particular trouble this time) and laugh.

The trip for a Halloween party to
a local tea-house. 

     Sonny still has his job. Amazingly, most of the days he gets up on time to go there. He feels, he was taken advantage of by the Macy's (where he works) HR. His shift starts at 6:30 in the morning, and he doesn't have guts to change that. I am also taking advantage of his situation. He'd have to walk in the dark and the cold to take the bus and the BART (Bay Area's Subway system), if I don't let him use the car. And he can only use the car if he pays, what Mr. P. calls, "the

sweat equity": meaning, does different chores around the house. Then and only then he is able to drive our unreliable vehicles. Sometimes, like today, I have to give him a ride in order to have the car for my own needs.
     Taka's car is losing ground. We changed radiator on it, but almost immediately it began to smoke again. I could swear: the owner of the auto repair shop told me after installing the radiator that, there wasn't any significant leakage of the fluids from anywhere else, but now he says, he warned me of the leaking "head gasket". I was so happy before I even knew, what that was! Now we have to pay $800 to take care of the problem, and the mechanics said, there is a chance they'll find something else wrong, once they'll take half of the motor apart in order to get to the blasted "head gasket"! I think, it's a ploy to charge us for unending repairs. What can we do?! Perhaps, the lack of guts is a family affliction, because I can't see myself arguing with the mechanics!
     So, one of our Hondas is in the shop, getting "operated on", and Taka uses the other one for his commute to work. Which also means, I have to drive Sonny to his job early in the mornings, before his dad goes to work.
     Recently I went to see my acquaintances. I talked about them in a post named "To eat (meat) or not to eat?" This time the husband, Rafi, made us some pasta with sea kelp and a side of stewed cabbage. I won't go into the specifics of the meal, but as I walked into their living room afterwards, I forgot about a small step they have there. As the result, I landed rather heavily on one of my long suffering feet and at once felt strong, tearing pain in the sole of the arch. More than two weeks later, and I still can't walk freely without a cane or stand for more than 3 minutes without starting to feel the sharp ache. I am not letting myself get depressed about it, but that severely limited my activities.
     Do I get any help from the family? Sometimes, and, most of the time, only with a lot of prodding, pouting and screaming. Why it has to be so, I don't know. I guess, I am a bad mother and a stupid wife, who couldn't inspire more loyalty and compassion in my family.
     That's all.

DON'T DRIVE ME AWAY

     A lot of Jews were killed in a terrible Kaunas (the second largest city in Lithuania) ghetto. Just on October 28, 1941 around ten thousand people were shot. One day, the nazis and the Lithuanian police killed all the children. They were lured out of the houses with music. Those, whom their mothers didn't let go, were killed on the spot, right in front of the mothers.
     For a while the killing stopped, but in 1943 the ghetto came under the jurisdiction of the SS. The killing began anew.
     A young, 30 year old, Jew stood naked on the edge of the ditch. He was one of the first to be wounded and fall under the fire. Other bodies fell on top of him. Terrified, he tried to climb out of the ditch. He grabbed the edge of it with his hands. Laughing, a policeman stuck his hands with a bayonette. He fell back.
     He lay in the ditch until the night. Under him the pile of the bodies moved and moaned. At night he crawled out and walked toward the distant lights. He found a distant stead and somehow climbed over the fence; used a sheet hanging in the yard to cover himself.  With his wounded hands knocked on the door.
     A young woman opened it. He slumped against the doorpost and whispered: "Help me!".
     She pursed her lips. "Get out of here," - she said - "If they find you , they'll kill me and my children. Get out! Go back, where you came from!"
     He begged: "Don't drive me away, please!" He stood there, half naked, with injured hands and bloody head. She just kept repeating: Get away!"
     All of a sudden, from behind the curtain ran out a little blond girl. She hugged her mother's legs, raised her head and said: "Mommy, don't push him away: he is our Lord, Jesus Christ!"
     The family hid and cared for the man until he joined the forest guerillas. He fought in most daring operations. His comrades were surprised by his total lack of fear. He was killed at the very end of the war.
     I met and talked to the girl in 1988. She was 50 - younger, than I am now. I listened to her with the with the goose bumps running up and down my body.
At the end I said: "Well, yes, of course, you saw an exhausted man in a white robe with bloody hands and head, You were little, you made a mistake."

    She calmly looked in my eyes and carefully shook her head: "You don't understand, It really was Jesus."


Eugene Royzman
Source: http://roizman.livejournal.com/1652237.html