3lastnamesblog

The Countdown to 60 March 18, 2022

Filed under: aging,family,Humor,Mothers,Mothers/daughters,Women's Humor,Women's Issues — 3lastnamesblog @ 5:12 pm
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Exactly ten years ago I wrote my very first blog “The Countdown to 50” and to celebrate the anniversary I thought I would write “The Countdown to 60.” But before I put pen to paper I re-read the first one to remind myself of what I said. (The link is below if you’re interested, if not keep scrolling to continue)

https://3lastnamesblog.com/2012/05/28/the-countdown-to-50/

So, The Countdown to 60?

DITTO!! Everything still holds true a decade later!

EXCEPT, what was I so tortured about? Looking at my 50’s from the back end now, I’d LOVE to have that body I was complaining about 10 years ago. And so what if I thought every silver car in the parking lot was mine, I still think every silver car in the parking lot is mine and I have a white car!! And to think I complained about all that tweezing! Now my morning routine is brushing my teeth and putting on my eyebrows.

And my daughters are way more than just “productive members of society”. They’re all grown up now with lives of their own. Julie is a Director at a marketing firm and married to a wonderful man. Gabby is an Art Director at an advertising firm and lives half the year with her Pro-Golfer boyfriend in Florida. ( I actually won’t mind if she settles in Florida— as a Jew I know one day I will wind up there because as Jerry Seinfeld says, “It’s the law”)

My girls know I’m ready to be a grandma. Ten years ago I would’ve cried myself to sleep if one of them got pregnant. They were too young to be mothers, but more importantly I was too young to be a grandmother! Now, I’d be happy with anything-a grand puppy even! Fortunately my sister has 3 precious granddaughters (my great nieces) and she shares them with me. Any time they visit Mimi in Massapequa they know they’re going to see Crazy Aunt Jackie. I’m pretty sure they think we live together.

Of course these beautiful children come from my nephews and their lovely wives. (We’ve been busy throwing weddings this past decade, but those are stories for another blog.) The point is our family is growing and our holidays are hectic and loud and we need to set up two long tables to make room for all of us, the high chairs, and the boosters. My sister and I wear slippers and aprons and bounce the babies on our knees so the others can eat. By the end of the night we’re in crippling back pain from all the shopping and cooking and cleaning. It’s official— we’ve turned into my mother and my Aunt Rozzy. But we wouldn’t have it any other way.

However, I must also mention that in the last decade I’ve retired, replaced therapy with yoga, am in a solid, stable relationship, have time to travel, read books, take classes— and even though I can’t remember why I entered a room, I can still conquer the Sunday NY Times crossword puzzle.

Sure I’m older, but I’m a lot wiser too. I know not to complain about turning 60. Aging and everything that comes along with it is a blessing. So when I write The Countdown to 70, I only hope I can still say DITTO and that our family will be lucky enough to need THREE tables at the holidays!

 

 

 

 

 

A Hunting We Will Go November 16, 2014

Filed under: family,Humor,Mothers,Mothers/daughters,Women's Humor,Women's Issues — 3lastnamesblog @ 3:26 am
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My boyfriend hunts. This is quite extraordinary considering we met in yoga and I can’t think of anything more un-yoga like than hunting. However once I got past all the Bambi parables, I was able to accept it and have even learned quite a bit about the hunting “culture”.

I used to think hunting was just grabbing your rifle and heading for the woods. No, no, no! Hunting is actually a sport with rules and regulations. Hunters first must obtain a license and will only hunt during the legal season which is just two weeks in November.  Some hunters have motion detectors on their secluded property with monitors in the house so as not to miss any potential game while they sleep. They rise in nearly the middle of the night, shower with special soap that eliminates any and all human scent. They dress in camouflage coats, orange hats and heavy boots. They set out for the woods in the dark of night, rifle in hand, climb up to a tree stand and…..WAIT.

Yes, you heard me correctly. Hunters don’t really hunt, they WAIT. They sit and hope for a deer to come to THEM. Well no wonder it’s such big deal when you finally kill one! Yes, it takes spot on reflexes, and precision aim, but still, wouldn’t it be easier and quicker to just go find the deer?

This is why women don’t hunt animals. We don’t have time to sit around and wait. However, we do hunt; it just doesn’t involve deer and woods. For instance, I just went hunting last week. Let me tell you about it.

My daughters (Julie and Gabby) and I had just finished a lovely Sunday dinner I had prepared. Julie, on her way home, dropped Gabby at the train station.  Gabby called me from the station and said that Julie can’t find her cell phone (a brand new iphone) and asked if by any chance she had left it behind. I searched and searched but found nothing. Julie then drove back to the house to search herself. Nothing. In addition, we used flashlights and emptied every item from her car. Nothing. The locator feature didn’t work because the phone was dead.  Finally it occurred to Julie that she may have driven away with the cell phone on the hood of her car, remembering that she put it there while she was making room in her backseat for Gabby’s things.  I immediately told her to go trace her path but she told me she had already done so on her way back.

Now I could tell you about the screaming and yelling on my part, but that’s not the point of the story. And in hindsight, I can’t really fault her, because that particular gene she has definitely inherited from me considering there is not a store, restaurant, or restroom in which I have not left my cell phone, pocketbook, keys, glasses, wallet, umbrella or all of the above.

So, Julie went home and I was left alone with my despair. I got into bed and tried to relax.  I watched TV for about 45 minutes but something was gnawing at my gut.  My motherly instincts were telling me to go hunt for the phone. So I rose from my bed in the dark of night, put on my robe and fuzzy slippers, and with car keys in hand headed out into the cold, windy night. Slowly and methodically I traced the route to the train station, waving on the cars behind me to go ahead. Then after about 2 miles…I FOUND THE PHONE! There in the reflection of my high beams, like a deer in the headlights, was the pink Otter Box. With my spot on reflexes and precision aim, I pulled up next to the phone, opened the car door and swooped up the phone into my hand. SCORE!!  The phone only had some minor damage which was able to be fixed! HEIGH HO THE DAIRY- O!! If I could mount that phone on a plaque and hang it in my living room I would!

So to all the women out there that have saved the day, I say this. We may not hunt with a license, special wardrobe or a weapon, but our instincts are KILLER!

 

One Year Later November 19, 2013

Filed under: Eulogy,family,middle age,Mothers,Mothers/daughters — 3lastnamesblog @ 2:41 am
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This was written for my mother’s unveiling on the first anniversary of her death. It was meant for family and close friends but it received such a  positive response that I decided to add it to my blogs…..

One Year Later

Hi Mommy. I know you watch over us and probably know everything that has happened in the past year, but the thing I miss most is talking to you. So I want to use this opportunity to update you on the family, plus you can’t answer me back….

You’d be happy to know that your beautiful home sold in one week for the asking price. Moreover, you should feel quite flattered that the couple who bought it wanted everything- the furniture, window treatments, art work and even the accessories. You should be even more flattered to know that it was a gay couple, and well, you know they have the best taste.

Since your passing Marla has spent literally every day of the past year settling your estate. For the last 12 months she has been in contact with real estate attorneys, estate lawyers, expediters and stock brokers. She has been faxing, emailing, copying, scanning and over-nighting documents. She has been the point person for the credit card companies, Medicare, the health insurance company, the hospital, the ambulance, the wheelchairs, the hospital bed, and the oxygen tanks. To put it in one word, she has been “Marla”.

I, on the other hand, have been busy fulfilling your dying wish for me. I joined AARP. I kept hearing your voice “For sixteen dollars you get so many discounts”. So I finally did it. And I have to say, I love the insulated tote bag they sent me and I never miss out on my free donut at Dunkin Donuts with every purchase of a large beverage.

Your grandchildren continue to thrive. Robby and Lindsay finally moved into their co-op. They made it into a modern, cozy nest for the two of them. I know, Ma- it’s hard to believe Robby is a married man and owns real-estate in Manhattan, until of course you see all his Legos displayed everywhere you look in the apartment. That Lindsay is something, isn’t she Ma?

Now wait till you here this one, Mommy. Remember when Sam changed his major from Architecture to Industrial Design and Marla called me at school to tell me we had a “family situation”. Well, believe it or not, Sam is now working at an architecture firm, doing architecture work! I can hear the “I told you so” from your grave. But the truth is, he’s hoping it will lead to a job in the design department, which is of course what he really wants to do. And Mommy, if you saw his new Facebook profile picture, he looks more like George Clooney than ever.

Now on to your Julie.  You’d be proud to know that Julie now has her own social media company ”Julie Katz Inc. “ She has been working very diligently establishing her company’s presence on the internet as well as keeping abreast of all the new trends in marketing. Now all she needs is a client. Kidding aside, we are all very proud of her but Julie lost her greatest advocate when she lost her Nana. I’m sure by now all of South Florida would’ve known about your granddaughter’s Fortune 500, international marketing business, because to you, that’s exactly what it would be.

I think out of all your grandchildren, Gabby felt your loss the most being that she had so many milestones this year- prom, graduation, getting accepted to FIT, her 18th birthday. Your picture is the screensaver on her phone and it was her idea to wear your “Cecile” bracelet to all her special occasions so she felt like you were there with her. As a matter of fact, she told me the only reason she was looking forward to your unveiling was so she could wear every piece of your jewelry.

Well, it’s true what they say- life goes on. But it is never the same.  As long as we have each other to lean on (and Gary to keep watching over us) we should all be fine. Just know Mommy that we all so deeply miss you and think about you with every passing day. We promise to honor your legacy by continuing to live a life of which you can be proud.

 

Blog Interrupted May 22, 2013

Filed under: Humor,middle age,Mothers/daughters,single,Uncategorized,Women's Humor,Women's Issues — 3lastnamesblog @ 9:01 pm
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    I originally started blogging because I had a lot of free time, which is just a nice way of saying I had no life. But now my life is becoming busy and it’s interrupting my blog! Here’s what you’ve missed:

#1) I learned how to play Craps   I was at the Tropicana in Atlantic City. I had always watched my father play craps and I was interested in learning. So I casually sauntered up to the craps table. It was a fifteen dollar minimum bet, which for me was out of the question, so I just watched. The only thing I knew about craps was that you don’t want to throw a 7 or 11.  As the game progressed I asked questions of the man standing next to me as well as the dealer who after a while gave me that look to either bet or step away from the table. So eventually, with much trepidation, I took the plunge and placed 2 chips on the table. Apparently I placed them at a point in the game when they can’t be placed and they were handed back to me.  But the dealer talked me through and gradually I started to get the hang of the game, placing more and more chips on the table with each round. Each player seemed to get three or four chances to throw the dice and before long the dice were passed to me. So after choosing my dice I took my very first roll. The dice barely made it across the table. “SEVEN”! Oh no! I felt terrible that on my first roll I was out. But I immediately learned that at certain times of the game it is GOOD to roll a seven and that was one of them! The dice kept being returned to me and I kept rolling. There was a crowd gathering and lots of hootin’ and hollerin’. A crowd of young men in their twenties kept cheering me on, “Let’s go Shooter, C’mon Shooter!!” (Apparently I was “Shooter”.) At one point the man standing next to me told me if rolled an eight the table was going to erupt. I had no idea why I wanted an eight, but I prayed for one anyway. “EIGHT!” the stickman shouted and the table went crazy. This exhilaration continued for the better part of an hour. When my roll was finally over everyone around the table applauded and I got high fives throughout the night in the casino. I was a star.  But I forgot to mention the best part- my winnings! One dollar.

#2) I shot a gun. Well, a rifle actually. Now before you start to panic, I did not go from being a JAP (Jewish American Princess) to an NRA militia maniac (as my friend Dean put it). I simply shot at a target and was quite awful at it too. Perhaps I should have visualized an ex boyfriend or two… But, the most fun came from reading the comments to a picture I posted on Facebook of me aiming the rifle: “Oh G-d, you’ve turned into Sarah Palin” (Shelley) and “This gives new meaning to Jackie’s big guns” (Scott) as well as the myriad of inquiries if I had been kidnapped or joined a cult. Nope, none of that, just some good old fashioned red-neck fun. I reckon.

#3) I rode in the back of an ambulance. (No, this had no connection to me shooting a gun.) I was with my daughter, Gabby, who was in severe pain (She’s absolutely fine now). I called an ambulance because we needed to get to the hospital FAST! When the ambulance arrived the EMT strolled into the house like he was arriving at a garden party. “CAN YOU WALK A LITTLE F—ING FASTER PLEASE; MY DAUGHTER IS ROLLING ON THE FLOOR IN F—ING PAIN!!”  He neither altered his gate nor commented on my remark and after what seemed an eternity, we finally left for the hospital. When I inquired why we weren’t speeding and passing red lights. I was informed that only “happens in movies”.  Huh?? “YOU HAVE GOT TO BE F—ING KIDDING ME! WHY WOULD I CALL A F—ING AMBULANCE THEN? JUST YESTERDAY TWO F—ING AMBULANCES SPED BY ME!”  Where is my rifle now?? I’m pretty sure the EMT was happier to arrive at the hospital than I was. However, things weren’t much better at the hospital. It’s as if they did not see my poor daughter lying on the stretcher writhing in pain. But after much yelling and cursing and moaning and groaning (that was from me, not the patient) they finally gave her pain medication. By now it was the middle of the night and needless to say, I was a bit out of it. Thankfully my sister was with me (with Dunkin Donuts muffins and coffee of course). My daughter was finally resting quietly. The nurse asked me about diarrhea, vomiting and fever and when I told her I had none of that, my sister oh so gently reminded me, “THE NURSES ARE TALKING ABOUT GABBY, YOU IDIOT! “  I am sure the hospital staff is still talking about me.

Next up, I’m planning on going horseback riding. The last time I came close to a horse was in fourth grade. I was afraid to go near it and I threw-up from the smell.  Either I’ve evolved or I’m going to get one hell of a blog out of it.

 

Timing is Everything March 4, 2013

Filed under: Humor,Hurricane Sandy,middle age,Mothers/daughters,Real Estate,Uncategorized,Women's Humor,Women's Issues — 3lastnamesblog @ 2:04 am
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If there’s one thing people know about me, it’s that I don’t like change (except for husbands apparently).  Usually the things I use like perfume, make-up, shampoos etc are all eventually discontinued because after 10 years I’m the only consumer that hasn’t moved on to something new and improved. I’ve had the same hairstyle since middle school,  I’ve taught at the same school for over 25 years, and I’ve lived in Massapequa, NY my entire life (except for  2 years when I lived in West Babylon which I refer to as the Dark Ages). As a matter of fact, most of my life I’ve lived on the very same block.

So when I announced on Facebook I was listing my house, you can imagine the shockwave that was sent throughout the internet. I could hear the collective gasp of my cyber-world friends. But not to worry, I was only planning to move to Southgate- the condominium complex right here in Massapequa.  I hadn’t been totally possessed by aliens.

It was an excruciatingly hard decision to list my house, made with much apprehension and trepidation. But my youngest is leaving for college in the fall and it’s time to down size.  Despite my anxiety I began the cleaning out process. Thirty black garbage bags and several panic attacks later I was ready for an open house.  It was scheduled for Sunday, October 28, 2012… yes, the day before Super Storm Sandy. Yes, I live by the water. And yes I had to evacuate, as did half of Massapequa.

My real-estate agent suggested we go through with the open house.  I had to start getting ready to evacuate so with my insurance papers, deed to the house, birth certificates, passports, Social Security cards, irreplaceable photos and diamond jewelry, I headed to the local bagel place to hide out for 2 hours while my open house was taking place. I was all alone except for one other person in my neighborhood who also happened to be having an open house that day- my sister!!  Crazy loves company. There the two of us sat , staring out the glass windows, watching people frantically prepare for the storm that the TV hanging above us was dubbing “Frankenstorm”.  Needless to say, no one came to see our houses that day. And no one has come since.

I’m not going to lie, my neighborhood was hit hard. Not as bad as some communities, but the trailers, storage pods and construction crews are all still present even after all these months.  However, MY house stayed dry- no water whatsoever! My sister was not as lucky, but her water was at least limited to her basement.  Since the storm I’ve been asked if I’m going to lower the price of my house considering my neighborhood went from being “prestigious” to a flood zone.  Are you kidding me? I STAYED DRY IN SANDY!  I think that’s a major selling point!

That is if someone would only come see my house! It’s a sprawling 5 bedroom expanded ranch with an open floor plan and neutral palette with marina and beach club rights. (That last sentence was definitely a plug. Am I using my blog as a platform for shameless self promotion? You’re damn right I am!)

But I wouldn’t exactly call myself “unscathed”. In my haste to get home after the storm, anxious to see the potential damage to my house, I tried to drive through a “puddle” the size of Lake Erie. Of course my car went dead within 10 seconds and eventually was declared totaled. My brother in law witnessed the entire incident. The good news is, he was kind enough to wade into water waste deep and push my daughter and me off the road to safety. The bad news is, he will never let me forget the extent of my stupidity.

  At this moment I am having an open house and am sitting in Starbucks writing this blog (the bagel place has bad Karma). Don’t buy my house if you don’t like it, but at least come to see it! Is that too much to ask?

Timing is everything, and mine couldn’t be any worse.

 House

 

My Mother’s Eulogy November 12, 2012

Filed under: Eulogy,Mothers,Mothers/daughters,Women's Issues — 3lastnamesblog @ 4:19 pm
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Fifteen years ago at my father’s funeral my sister and I each wrote eulogies. At the shiva my mom asked, “What are you going to say about me, that I made a great banana cake?”Well it happens that a few weeks ago I told my mom that I’ve had that opening line to her eulogy for years and years. At first I wouldn’t tell her but then I thought why not; it’s not like it’s going to spoil it for her! So when I told her what it was she laughed and said “I still think the same thing!”

Due to my mother’s extraordinary strength, she was able to live alone in her home throughout her illness. Two weeks ago my mother called 911 and was rushed to the ER. Turned out she was passing a kidney stone- no easy feat for a woman in her condition. I came down to Florida and when I walked into her house I thought to myself what a beautiful, bright, spotless, airy, fresh home it was. Everything was in its place- the bed was made, no dishes in the sink. No one could ever tell that an old sickly woman lived there, let alone one who was rushed off to the hospital. If I had been rushed off by ambulance and someone came into my house, they would think it was looted. But my mother’s home looked like it could be photographed for a magazine. I remember thinking she will never get the hospice services she wants with a container closet as neat and organized as hers. But the epitome of her organization was leaving my sister and me all the information we would need to plan her funeral right on her kitchen table. Well actually, the note was addressed to just my sister. My mother had enough foresight to know that Marla would manage her grief by springing into action mode, while all I’d want to do is nap and have cinnamon Pop-Tarts (which of course, she had a box of in her pantry).

Somehow my mother was always right. I would speak to her every day on the phone and a typical conversation would go something like this…

” Hey Ma, what’s doing?

“What should be doing?”

“How do you feel?”

“Eh whatever, but what, you have a cold?”

“I don’t have a cold, Ma”

“Well you sound stuffy; you have a cold don’t you?”

Ma, I feel completely fine, I DO NOT HAVE A COLD!”

“Alright. What are you doing this weekend?”

“I’m going to the beach on Sunday.”

“Sunday? I heard rain for Sunday in New York”

“Ma, it’s supposed to be beautiful on Sunday. You’re telling ME the forecast for New York from Florida?”

Well, I never did go to the beach on Sunday…. because it was raining…and I had a cold.

Of course if you know anything about my mother, you know she lived for her grandchildren, Robby, his wife Lindsay, Sam, Julie, and Gabby. She somehow made them each feel like they were her favorite to the point that they would actually argue over it. Robby would say, “Nana loves ME the most because I’m the first born grandchild. Julie would say, “Nana loves ME the most because my mom and I lived with her and grandpa for 2 years. Gabby would say, “Nana loves ME the most because I’m the baby of the family”. And Sam would say, “Nana loves ME the most because she thinks I look like George Clooney!” But the love she gave them was only mirrored by the love she received. Seldom have I ever seen grandchildren that adored their grandmother the way they do. And to their credit, she was well aware of their adoration till her very last day.

Robby and Lindsay’s’ wedding was this past August (2012). We knew there was no way my mom was going to pass before then and risk dampening the festivities. She wasn’t able to be there but she was able to watch it streaming live on her computer, connected to her TV. Like everything else in her final years, she made the most of it. She invited friends and family, catered food and created her own celebration. She wanted to be included in all the talk and excitement and tried never to seem maudlin that she couldn’t attend, even though we all knew it was killing her inside. When my mother finally received the DVD of the wedding she spent hours and hours poring over the footage- rewinding, freeze framing, slow motion- it was like she was investing who shot JFK.

Gratefully, my mother’s mind was 100% until her last breath. Her friends and family were not ready to let her go, but she wanted to go. Independent and strong till the very end, she wanted to end her life on her own terms, with grace and her dignity intact- and that is exactly what she achieved.

And about that banana cake…Just a few days ago Gabby and I were cleaning out the refrigerator at the beginning of what is now day 9 of the power outage from Hurricane Sandy. I found in the freezer a piece of banana cake that my mother had made that I’ve been saving. I don’t know why I’d been saving it, but for some reason I never wanted to throw it out. Gabby said, “Mom, no matter what, don’t ever, ever throw out that piece of cake no matter how much mold it gets covered in.” So now in my empty refrigerator sits baking soda and the last “piece” of my mother we will ever have.

Mommy, I love you so, so much. Rest in Peace, you’ve earned it.