Successful experiment

Dear family and friends,

We had an iChat Seder last night! It worked. Merwin and I had prepared our Seder plate with the bitter and green herbs, the roasted egg and other symbols of the holiday, with a basket of matzo, the wine and glasses and most of the other fixings in the small space in front of my large computer. When the time came, Harvey, in Woodbridge, CT, tested the iChat: it worked! he placed his computer where we usually sit, to his left near the head of the table, so when people looked that way, they could see us, and we could see them as we usually do. I can't say the image was as bright or cheerful as the in-person version, but it was great to be part of it! We sang the songs, and with some urging I sang my special song, Mah LaHa haYam. Didn't quite work because my voice was not strong enough to guide this non-singing group in the response part of the tune. But I was amazed I could sing at all (not well, not wisely, but happily).

I missed the more intimate conversations we have with friends there, so I could not find out about the older children of Doran and Sharon, who were not there; or with Jordy, who was one of three Yale students there; or with Katie who was sitting next to me; or with her friend who was sitting next to her. I think only her married son was there with his wife: where were the other sons? Michelle was the only granddaughter there, and I noticed that she sat to the right of her mother, across from where I would have been sitting, and not with the children at the other end of the table. Not that there were any children! All the children have become grownups.

But even more unsettling, I guess, was the fact that there was no one there of our generation. Sharon's parents are gone, Sandy's parents can't travel because of her mother's struggle with pancreatic cancer, though Lee and Murray did join us via regular phone for a song and a "hello" all around. And we could not travel either. We are seeing the generations shifting before our eyes.

I think of our dear friend Sandy's wish that all her children be married and start families young. I think I understand better now. A long period of bachelor-hood does not make for continuity between generations.

Change is inevitable and the steps are clearer from this vantage point, far from the beginning.

I remember the raucous family Seders my parents made, with all my close cousins there and aunts and uncles. The men chanted, the woman chatted, and the children made mischief at, under, and around the table. This scheme fell apart of course as it had to, and I recall a Seder with only the three of us, mama, papa, and me at 15 in Miami Beach, Fla. I conducted the Seder, and my parents were so pleased. But what a difference from the old days, which I thought would last forever! Oh well, enough of family history. One can get started and never stop.

And lots more happened yesterday. I heard from the editor of the journal to which I sent my revised essay, and he was pleased to have it. He was planning to send it to the two readers to see if they liked or could approve of my changes. It's actually quite a different essay, much better I think, but also lacking a personal element I had included in the earlier version. Then, I placed myself in the circle of scholars who make decisions that are purportedly intellectual and scholarly and yet have an emotional and personal bias. So I will know soon if the readers and editors still want to publish the piece. I started this project in 2002, dropped it when other commitments became too pressing, and returned to it last October when I got the new, more serious diagnosis of myelo fibrosis. It was one of three things I wanted to complete before . . . you know what. Now it is almost done, but I have miles to go before I sleep, many projects in process.

Yesterday also was eventful on other fronts: the tech came for the blood draw again. I didn't know he'd be here every week. More importantly, the Visiting Nurse, Bill, whose specialty is physical therapy, came and gave me more exercises to do. They are going to take a chunk out of my day, but I can modify as events demand. I had so much kitchen work yesterday that I couldn't get to many reps of the exercises. I also asked him for some exercises for arms and back with my 3 lb weights; he gave me two simple ones to try (3 x 10 reps each as are all the exercises). And I must walk and walk around with the walker. The pain is going to be a problem for a long time, even with the pain meds, he says, but I just have to work through it. He says that this is one of the more painful fractures. I guess this is tit for tat: no cast, no surgery, no hospital stay—but pain. The best news is that Bill is going to show me on Wed. how I can get into and out of a car. He'll tell me when I will be strong enough to endure the jouncing of automobile travel and thus actually go somewhere. It would be good to get to the dentist for the appointment I missed the very day, two weeks ago, that I broke my pelvis. And on April 9th, I'd love to get to the Jolly Fisherman for our monthly "ladies who lunch." Then later in the month we have tickets for a play in NYC. Can I make that? Looks possible, maybe, I hope. Lots of things pushing me forward into the future.

Well, enough about me: what about you?

Love,
Bernice