Iris Ruth Pastor's Blog, page 13
August 10, 2023
My Husband is Turning 76 Years Old Today
My husband is turning 76 years-old today.
We were born in the same month, in the same year, in the same city and in the same hospital. My mother left the hospital with me the day his mother checked into the maternity ward to give birth to him.
In less than a week, we will be celebrating our 47th wedding anniversary.
When we first got married, we woke up each morning and asked each other one question and one question only: Are You Horny?
Nowadays, we ask each other two questions upon arising:
How’d you sleep?
Are you okay?
And then we remind each other to take our blood pressure pills and check our blood pressure later in the day.
We no longer cheer at our kids’ soccer games, but we do a lot of cheering at our friends’ birthday parties – because we are still around to celebrate another year of life. Too many of our friends, classmates and relatives are not.
We used to admonish our kids, in fiery rhetoric, to be careful every time they took the car, or partied with their buddies, or drove down to Florida for spring break or went through the terrifying experience (at least for a parent) of pledging a college fraternity.
Our life is much more mundane now.
When either of us leaves the house or embarks on a new experience, we ask the most commonplace of questions:
Do you have your glasses?
Do you know where you’re going?
What time will you be back?
(And a new experience for us is now defined as switching to a new doctor, trying to figure out whether flavored seltzer water upsets our tummies and trying out a new digestive aid.)
My husband turns 76 tomorrow.
He does not look the same as the day I married him. Nor do I.
His dark thick curls are long gone – and he’s mostly bald.
His physique is trim and muscular, but not as trim and muscular as it used to be.
(I don’t have that particular concern as my physique was never trim and muscular.)
I recently saw a picture of Ali McGraw and Ryan O’Neal from their “Love Story” days:
And now:
I could relate.
Here’s ours:
Time takes its toll.
We lose the people we love.
Those of us who still have our spouses are lucky and I am grateful for my husband’s presence every day.
Most of the time.
Well, some of the time.
He is messy.
He eats way too much ice cream and then complains of acid reflux.
He still can’t figure out the difference between texts and e mail.
He incessantly asks me questions when binge watching because he always leaves the room to do gosh-knows-what.
He can never find his glasses and keys.
He has no idea what is in each of the kitchen cabinets though we have lived in this house over 15 years.
He over scrutinizes our dog’s eating habits, bowel habits and moods.
My husband is turning 76 today.
He used to swagger.
Now he walks tentatively and slower.
As do I.
If he still had his Porsche, he’d probably not be able to even climb in it – much less out of it.
His medicines crowd the cabinet shelves – shelves which used to house his vast array of protein powders.
His sweaty work-out clothes are long gone, replaced by his neck brace and back brace.
And he constantly misplaces his handicapped sticker.
But some things never change:
He is still jealous of my high school boyfriend.
And he still tells me that my smile lights up any room I’m in.
I think I’ll keep him.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor
August 4, 2023
I’m Turning 76 Tomorrow
How do I really feel now that I am turning 76 years old tomorrow?
Constantly adjusting to the aging process can be an energy sucker:
Clutching the bannister when using the stairs – no more bounding up and down effortlessly.
Ditto for getting out of bed. The operative word now is SLOWLY. No leaps.
My kitchen cabinet has a coterie of pills and prescriptions – ever growing – and all mine.
New age spots and sun spots sprout up daily.
I eat less, but the digital scale registers more.
Chewing gum and drinking diet soda give me heartburn and gas – in that order.
And everywhere I go, I look around to see if I am the oldest one in the room – and I’m beginning to think I am.
I can’t remember the last time the employees in the thrift store I visit every Tuesday because its 20 per cent off for senior citizens actually asked me if I was one.
I’m buying less and investing more in experiences.
My good news is more centered on health, not wardrobe acquisitions or decorative home enhancements. For instance, I just found out I don’t need a knee replacement because my orthopedic surgeon thinks a PRP injection will alleviate my pain and discomfort. Whoopee!
I’m cutting off doing chores, errands, bills, house cleaning and plant watering at 7pm, not 9 pm, because I’m simply too tired.
Every place I travel, I now lose something. This time it was my prized gold ring for my right thumb. I thought it was my hearing aids I misplaced, but they were found intact, in one of the zippered compartments of my suitcase when I got home and unpacked. That’s because I always “forget” to wear them.
Friends are being diagnosed with crappy things and it does seem like funerals are beginning to replace cocktail parties at an alarming rate.
Decades ago, when I saw a dancer on stage, I’d say to myself: I could do that.
Years ago I said: I used to be able to do that.
Now I say: How in the hell can they still do that?
I keep forgetting stuff – like one grandson’s birthday and the spelling of one of my granddaughter’s names. That why I now have the password to my computer written on a Post It note, scotch taped to my key board.
Rather than participate with abandon, I now am finding myself watching my grown adult sons interact with each other – trying to imagine how it will be when I’m no longer with them.
But I’m not sad.
And most days I revel in the reduced responsibilities I have at this stage in my life.
And I’m also re-discovering so many interesting things lying around my own house. Like a copy of Life Magazine I bought and saved, though I can’t remember why, in 1991.
An essay on one of the last pages caught my attention – “Picturing Happiness” by Lynda Barry.
She writes about finding a very old picture of her parents the summer she was 13, shortly before her father left the family. A surge of memories of happier times for her household came roaring back as she studied the photo of the smiling, exuberant young couple. And it made her sad.
But years later, after she too married and divorced, she had an epiphany:
Happiness is happiness,
no matter how things turns out.
It still counts.
I’ll never quite look at old pictures of happier times in the same way again. Thank you, Lynda Barry, for reminding me to glory in those “fleeting moments of joy“.
As William Wordsworth wrote so long ago, “Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower, we will grieve not, rather find, strength in what remains behind.”
Here’s to all life’s joyous moments – lasting or short-lived…experienced in youth or old age…
And Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor
My First and Last Sports Column Part 2
A lot of people have happy places.
My sister’s happy place is a city where she spent a lot of time visiting when growing up: Tampa, Florida.
A friend loves nesting at home on the couch with her deaf cat.
Another friend tells me her happy place is working as a dental hygienist and that she intends to be the longest practicing one ever.
A friend of mine for decades tells me her happy place is wherever she is when learning something new.
A Facebook acquaintance frequently posts inspirational and funny things on her Facebook page – I bet if you asked her she’d site Facebook as one of her happy places. Who doesn’t feel happy after reading her latest post:
Things I’m Super Good At:
Forgetting someone’s name 10 seconds after they tell me.
Buying produce…and throwing it out two weeks later.
Digging through the trash for the food box I just tossed because I already forgot the directions.
Making plans. And then immediately regretting making plans.
Calculating how much sleep l’ll get if I can just “fall asleeep right now.”
My happy place:
Great American Ball Park, Cincinnati, Ohio.
It simply connects me to my hometown roots.
I love all the eclectic quotes written about the game – many which are posted throughout Great American Ball Park.
I love the game no matter who I am with.
But most of all, l love going to the games with my husband.
He played baseball for years as a pitcher – and he teaches me a little bit more every game that we attend together.
For instance, I just learned that if the batter tips the ball on the third strike and the catcher catches it, it’s an out. If he doesn’t catch the ball, there is no strike three called and he’s not out.
I now know what ERA denotes.
I now know the significance of the speed of the pitch.
I now know that there is a electronic box on each catcher’s thigh that transmits a signal to the pitcher about which type of pitch to throw.
I still don’t understand why a starting pitcher can throw up to 100 pitches in a game, but the relief pitcher throws just a fraction of that number because is arm will get too tired. This makes no sense to me.
It doesn’t matter if it’s warm or cold.
It doesn’t matter if it’s raining or sunny.
It doesn’t even matter who the Cincinnati Reds are playing.
I am filled with anticipation every time I slide into my seat, pop on my sunglasses, put my hand on my heart and face the music’s direction as I hear the opening strains of our National Anthem.
https://www.google.com/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=what%27s+the+national+anthem+sung+t+the+beginning+of+the+cincinnati+reds+gfames&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:128627cc,vid:fMvCZnIJJrs
The above rendition was also sung by Marlana Van Hoose on Opening Day, 2023 at the Great American Ball Park. VanHoose is an American contemporary Christian singer who has been blind since birth and has achieved fame singing the National Anthem at major professional sporting events.
I get instantly re-charged at the 7th Inning Stretch when the crowd rises from their seats in the Great American Ball Park to sing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame,” which has become the unofficial anthem of North American baseball. It was written by two men who had never attended a baseball game before writing the song: Jack Norworth and Albert Von Tilzer.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pnn1Q1uP44
The Great American Ball Park is simply my happy place.
This country is my happy place too.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor
My First and Last Sports Column – Part 1
This is the only sports column I have ever written and intend to write. This is Part 1 and next week will be Part 2 and then: NEVER AGAIN.
It all started with my grandfather, Frank, who frequently went to see the Cincinnati Reds play at Crosley Field in the 1930’s. He was such an avid fan that he regularly advertised his small flower shop business in the Cincinnati Reds short program. (A copy is still in our family’s possession.)
Riverfront Stadium opened its doors in 1970 and my dad was lucky enough to call for two season tickets immediately after a journalist returned his two box seat tickets – four rows behind home plate.
Shortly thereafter, the fabulous Big Red Machine started dominating the National League. For Cincinnati, it was baseball at its finest.
My children spent their childhood going to baseball games with their grandfather. Such an impression the Cincinnati Reds experience had on my boys was evident when four out of five of them chose the Cincinnati Reds as their Bar Mitzvah theme.
My boys grew up. My boys moved away. My dad died. And all that was left of the Big Red Machine was a scrapbook of memories. For many years, the Cincinnati Reds limped along. Attendance continued to decline. Games became boring – and far too long. And even though we all had access to very good seats, it was not the draw it used to be. And most of the time, if none of us were in town, we couldn’t even give the tickets away.
And now: it’s the 2023 baseball season. And things are rapidly changing.
Attendance is way up all over the country.
Why?
(Here’s where I my sport writer’s hat kicks in.)
The shift role has been abandoned. This eliminates the infield player’s ability to move to one side of the field in an effort to catch a hit more easily. Not only did left handed batters suffer from adapting then shift, but the games themselves generated little action. A homerun or an out. That was about it.
Thank goodness this year the baseball commission put the kibosh on this analytic. The shift had proven to be an entertainment killing move and everyone knows that going to a baseball game should be entertaining.
The pitch clock also came under a sea change. Now a pitcher is only allowed 15 seconds to throw a pitch if the bases are empty and 20 seconds if there is a runner on base. This has speeded up the game.
A pitcher can only throw to an occupied base two times in an attempt to pick off a runner during a batter’s plate appearance – thus further shortening the game.
And an added benefit: the bases have increased from 15 inches square to 18 inches square to avoid more injuries and collisions.
Stadiums all over the country are filling up. Why? Because of the new rules, more action on the field and because the games are about 25 minutes shorter and more exciting.
“It’s like going back to the 1980’s when baseball was at its aesthetic best,” says Tom Verducci, American sports writer, recently in Sports Illustrated.
Last year overall attendance for the Cincinnati Reds was about 1.4 million. As of July 19, 2023, their numbers were already above 1.1 million, with about 30 home games remaining. Of course, the fact that my favorite team is presently near the top of their division accounts for some of this wave of fans descending on the Great American Ball Park, but I believe it’s also due to the new changes the baseball commission has instituted.
The thrill of sitting in a stadium filled to capacity, surrounded by cheering, engaged fans is an unbeatable high.
Yes, this may well be the last sports column I ever write, but you can bet I will be attending – G-d willing – many more baseball games in the future.
Go Reds!
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor
July 14, 2023
I Really Did Think I Was Alone
I Really Did Think I Was Alone
I thought most of my contemporaries were kicking back their feet
Leisurely going through their days
Taking an exercise class
Traveling to Spain
Lunching with the girls
Playing a little pickleball
Doing something totally frivolous at whim
And here I was
Totally pre-occupied
Somewhat stressed (actually, pretty darn stressed)
Over stimulated
Making new connections
Meeting new people
Learning new stuff
And launching a brand-new initiative
It turns out that people around my age – the
first wave of the ubiquitous baby boomers –
are once again breaking the mold, writing their own script for aging gloriously and controlling their own remote.
In the Wall Street Journal, on June 27, 2023 this headline appeared: More High-Powered People Choose to Work into Their 80’s
Recognizing that our generation has concerns over QTR (Quality Time Remaining), many of us are simply deciding to work rather than simply retire. Some need to continue due to financial constraints, but many simply cite that they “Just want to.”
Maybe they just don’t like pickleball – maybe their spouse is pushing them to do something besides sitting idle. Maybe they are just bored
And role models now abound. No matter your personal opinion of President Biden, age 80, running for re-election, it certainly supports the mind set that your ninth decade can still be one of productivity and purpose. Further proof: Harrison Ford, at age 80, is releasing his latest “Indiana Jones” movie. No mean feat.
It kinda makes retirement at age 65 look extremely premature. Outdated. And an obsolete template.
My father was thrilled, when on the eve of his 80th birthday, he received one present from all of his grandkids: a briefcase.
I was shocked at the happiness it brought him.
“Are you kidding?” he marveled, “My family thinks it’s normal for me to be working at my age and bought me a briefcase to replace my bedraggled one – wow that spurs me to keep on keeping on.”
Personally, I owe this productive and invigorating stage in life to a recognition of two things: The concept of QTR (Quality Time Remaining) and the clock constantly ticking.
What is “Quality Time Remaining” all about? It’s a philosophy and a filter for making choices in life.
It involves facing your own mortality
Taking things OFF the back burner
No more vowing to do it SOMEDAY
Focusing on living the life you want after whittling down what is really important to you
And who you want to spend time with
So once again, I, too, am totally involved with something new as I take full advantage of my “Quality Time Remaining” – treading precariously in uncharted waters.
I’m not quite ready to unveil my newest adventure, but I will tell you a few things it is already doing for me:
Introducing me to people I would never have met otherwise
Forcing me to learn new tech skills (very reluctantly, I might add)
Learning the inner workings and constraints of being a non-profit
Scoping out new information daily on trends, habits, challenges and roadblocks incurred as we journey through the winter of our lives.
And here is something delightful I ran across:
Julia Louis Dreyfuss has just launched a new podcast series called “Wiser Than Me” where she interviews woman in their 70’s and 80’s after wondering why we don’t hear more from older women on how to live a full and meaningful life. (Her interview with Fran Lebowitz is awesome!)
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick Tock.
In the meantime, Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor
PS: Part of living fully in your QTR is finding your “Happy Place.”
Where’s yours?
And why?
Send me back your answers: irisruthpastor@gmail.com
July 7, 2023
Looks Are Deceiving
It’s located in a very pleasant, but generic, office park off a major highway. That’s about the only ordinary thing I can say about this storefront named Loft 181.
Because Loft 181 is NOT ordinary.
Billed as a “boutique-style” shop, Loft 181 caters to a very unique segment of the population: girls in foster care and girls and women who are victims of sex trafficking.
Loft 181 is also not ordinary because a key component of a retail store is missing from their premises: the cash register. And they are open for business by appointment only.
Females who come to shop at the 3000+ square foot store are not charged for anything they choose. Instead, this boutique – with its very strong shabby chic, upscale vibe – treats all its clients as valued customers, although no money exchanges hands.
The volunteers who help the visitors are personal shoppers and, in their own words, “hope dispensers.” And they certainly are. From the moment the girl or young woman arrives on the doorstep of this voluminous “clothes closet,” she is greeted with warmth and personal sustained attention for the approximately 90 minutes she will be there picking out clothing, jewelry, accessories, beauty products and undergarments.
One girl.
One appointment at a time.
Before a client arrives, one of the very special things a volunteer does is write the client’s first name on a framed picture hanging right outside the dressing room she will be using.
Jennifer Whitten, Loft 181 store manager, and Emily Petrilli (senior director of planned giving for the umbrella non-profit One More Child) filled me in on the details. “Often this attention to the girl or woman could be the very first time in her life she has received positive feedback. As Loft’s personal shoppers learn more about the girls and women, their clients literally ‘open up.’ Counteracting the dark circumstances of their lives is as much a part of the process as the actual wardrobe choosing. And,” adds Jennifer, “instantly leads to a much sunnier perspective for them.”
The volunteers who help with the personal shopping also are aware of the concept of “trauma-informed care” – a general mindfulness of the type of things the girls have been through and what is appropriate and not appropriate to say. People who are trained in trauma-informed care understand that a person’s life experience — especially past trauma — has a direct effect on that person’s behavior. Great care is given to how to act so nothing negative is triggered in respect to the girls.
Loft 181 strives to provide a safe, nurturing space where clients get full-on, one-on-one attention – where they are treated with respect and dignity.
There is total attention given to each detail every step of the Loft 181 experience. For example, there is a prominent tag with the client’s name in a cheerful script already on the bag that will hold the client’s choices. They are also given a prayer card before they leave and details of their particular story are written and filed so that when they next visit, the volunteer can ask them follow-up questions – demonstrating interest and compassion.
Rooms and nooks and crannies are segregated by contents:
Gown room
Shoe room
Jeans room
Racks of t shirts and jewelry
Tables of purses
Intimacy room – body care products and intimate apparel
(Most items in Loft 181 are gently worn – except for underwear, which is brand new.)
Toward the back of the sprawling expanse of rooms is the counseling and fellowship room. Comfy couches and snacks abound. After shopping, patrons kick back their shoes and eat home-baked goodies donated by volunteers – and some deep and meaningful conversations naturally take place.
“Any particular challenges facing Loft 181?” I asked Jennifer.
“The clients just keep coming – it is a constantly revolving door – the boutique serves about 300 women a year and gives out about 10,000 items of clothing annually,” notes Jennifer. “We have about 30 consistent volunteers and we could use more of these personal shoppers.
The only day off limits to assemble a wardrobe is Tuesday – that is sorting day for the donated clothes that come in and it is chaotic – from 9am to 3pm. Volunteers are needed for that too.”
As I got ready to depart from this magical space, I couldn’t help but ask two final questions:
Were there any limits on how many items of clothing a client could take at once?
Jennifer’s reply: We tell them we do have limits on things, but we are not good at counting.
What is the most prevalent reaction among the patrons?
Jennifer’s reply: Why would you do this for me?
Why?
Because the people at Loft 181 believe every life should be loved and valued.
If you believe that too and would like to volunteer or donate much needed items (like size 7-8 gently worn shoes or plus size clothing), please contact store manager Jennifer Whitten at jenniferwhitten@onemorechild.org
Before I left this beautiful space, Jennifer, Emily and I talked about the concept of synchronicity – the simultaneous occurrence of events which appear significantly related, but have no discernible casual connection.
Shortly after our chat, I hastily scribbled down notes in preparation for writing this newsletter.
LOFT 181, I wrote down, is a faith-based Christian initiative. And then I took a closer look at Loft 181:
1 and 8 when read from left to right
And
1 and 8 when read from right to left
= 18
The number 18 in Judaism – my religion – is a significant number, which means life. And the angel number of 18 conjures up the power of infinite possibilities. Exactly what Loft 181 does.
Imagine that!
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor
June 30, 2023
The Power of the Bloom
I have three friends who couldn’t be more different. One is a retired teacher who spends hours each week gardening. Another is a very savvy business woman who works in commercial real estate and intermittently goes into her back yard. And the other is a younger woman who between biking, hiking and dancing, works full time in the insurance industry, but still finds a little time to enjoy her outdoor space.
All three in the course of just one week exclaimed to me over the joy they felt in watching the blooming of flowers on one of their plants on their property.
Here’s a photo from one of them:
Their delightful reaction over their new growth/blooms stayed with me for days. Why? Because I realized that on the few times I have actually not killed one of my plants – but had one actually throw off a bloom – I too was beyond thrilled.
I am not alone in having my spirits raised by cultivating and caring for plants.
We all know that natural disasters take a toll on mental health. An elementary school in Flagstaff, Arizona was destroyed by a devastating flood that swept through its neighborhood. Shortly thereafter, a pilot program was introduced to the displaced students – featuring how tapping into the power of plants can both promote resiliency and reduce stress.
Melissa Sevigny, radio station KNAU, reported on this story and it was featured on NPR. She says that horticultural therapy has been around since World War II, when it was used to care for war veterans… She goes on to say that for children, it’s a chance to build self-confidence, learn responsibility and improve their ability to understand the feelings of themselves and others. The kids who had attended that torn-up school got to take plants home and care for them.
Registered horticulturalist Pam Catlin says there is an actual word called biophilia and that it is all about the innate connection between people and plants that actually raises everyone’s spirits. Caitlin emphasizes that it’s widely known that humans have a deeply ingrained love of life and love of living things, which is imprinted in our DNA. When we tap into that source, we create a safe space for ourselves. And, in addition, by learning how to care for plants, both children (and adults) learn how to care for themselves.
On the flip side, plants actually care for us and others in the animal and plant kingdom too – besides from giving us exquisite, visual pleasure.
Frieda Wishinsky has written a newly released children’s book, A Flower is a Friend, that supports the point that not only do we get something back from caring for plants, but a plant actually cares for those around it.
Beautiful illustrations throughout the book, coupled with short paragraphs toward the end of the book, talk about how and why flowers and creatures are friends and depend on each other to survive. The gist of it is that insects and animals drink the sweet nectar found in flowers and then spread the plant’s pollen, which helps the plant make seeds.
Thinking about buying a few plants? Know a few kids or adults who could benefit from a plant’s presence? It’s well worth the investment. Nothing is more soul-satisfying than watching a plant bloom – unless of course, you are blooming right alongside of it! That is both soul-satisfying and miraculous too.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor
I never forgot the book nor Freida. And we have been keeping in touch ever since that day. I highly recommend both books.
June 23, 2023
The Perfect Sunday Morning
It’s going to be the Perfect Sunday Morning.
And you are invited…
Kendra Scott Jewelry and Jackie Walker’s Wisdom
and an opportunity to donate to an amazing non-profit,
Loft181
https://drofclosetology.splashthat.com/
KENDRA SCOTT JEWELRY
If you like necklaces, charms, chains, rings and bracelets, chances are you have heard of Kendra Scott Jewelry.
Whether you are into hoops and rings or layering and wrist staging, Kendra Scott Jewelry has something for everyone.
(This is not an ad for her jewelry – Kendra Scott and her jewelry empire do okay without my endorsement.)
Scott started out selling jewelry in a small way before she became a big seller in a big way. A mere three months after her first son was born, Scott took $500 and founded Kendra Scott LLC. That was two decades ago, when she was 28 years-old. Scott has since built an empire worth over $1 billion.
How’d she do it? Scott assembled a small team of women (including her mother) that she called the “super seven,” and began selling her jewelry wholesale. Retail giant Nordstrom noticed – while she was still working out of a bedroom in her home.
Today she has 130 Kendra Scott retail stores, plus immense online sales and her brand jewelry is also in many major retail department stores.
If she’s not perfect enough – and successful enough – she also gives back. In a big way. In her own words, Kendra Scott started her brand with the intention to do good first and sell jewelry second.
Her philanthropic mentality is embedded into every facet of her company. She has donated over $50 million to local, national, and international organizations in the areas of health & wellness, education & entrepreneurship, empowering both women and youth.
It’s going to be a perfect Sunday Morning
JACKIE WALKER’S WISDOM
How many of us walk into our closets every morning and are overwhelmed?
How many of us walk into our closets every morning bemoaning the jumbled mass of shirts, dresses, skirts and pants we have acquired over decades?
How many of us exit in frustration, mumbling to ourselves that our closets are out of control?
Enter my long-tine good buddy: Jackie Walker.
Think of her as a closet organizer on steroids. She beseeches us to make friends with our closet and she backs up her vision with usable information.
Did you know that women wear approximately only 20% of what is in their closet? (Men wear up to 90%.)
Did you know that most women shop to fill emotional needs and men shop just for a specific need?
Did you know the ideal ratio for tops to bottoms in a women’s closet: 75% tops to 25% bottoms.
“Clothing in your closet,” espouses Jackie, “can give you the courage and confidence to achieve great things.” She’s the brilliant originator of Closetology – dressing in a manner that enhances your self-esteem while making maximum use of what you’ve already got stashed in your closet.
************************************************
Hope to see you there for The Perfect Sunday Morning!
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor
June 16, 2023
The Secret to it All
I always miss the obvious – a fact that my sister gleefully and frequently points out. And she is 100 % right.
This week I worked on a lovely column about the power of cultivating and caring for plants and how this nurturing of nature raises our spirits, instills resiliency and helps maintain our sound mental health. Intermittently, I was busy on the internet ordering Father’s Day presents for the three of my sons who are dads.
And as I continued to type, edit, and finish up my column on flowers and plants, I flipped through recipes books looking for just the right dish to bring to our Father’s Day celebration at the beach.
Thursday morning, I woke up.
Thursday morning, I did a big WHOOPS.
I realized with a shock that Father’s Day was less than 48 hours away and I had failed to write about this significant holiday!
There are tons of articles on the Internet about parenting in today’s world. Helicopter Parenting has become a very recognizable moniker for those parents who hover too close, taking an over protective and excessive interest in their child.
But do you know what the latest identifying phrase is for parents? Lawn Mower Parents – those of us who knock down any obstacles in our children’s paths – intervening and protecting our kids from any discomfort or problematic situation.
With those very harsh identifiers in mind, I decided to ask some veteran fathers – who are not like that at all – for their take on what is most salient in their role of father.
Here are a few of their responses;
Rabbi Gary Klein:
My father, Joe Klein, of blessed memory, was very affectionate, patient, devoted and always available. I grew up feeling that there was no difference between my mother’s role in my life and my father’s…While growing up, I felt as if I had two mothers, my mother and my father! While I remember my mother being very loving and nurturing, my father was just as great a source of comfort and nurturing. He would frequently hold me in his arms the way my mother did, snuggle with me on the couch as we watched the Ed Sullivan Show, or listened to symphonic music on our stereo with me drinking warm milk that he prepared to help me sleep. While he always earned a good living as an automobile salesman, I never felt that he put career success or any personal interest over expressing love to his children. He made himself a part of every joyous moment in my life. He also provided great comfort for me during the sad or frightening or difficult times.
When other relatives would criticize him for his constant, tireless and selfless devotion to me and to my brother, he would say, “Kids don’t ask to be born”.
Jeff Luckman:
My daughters gave me this in a plaque one Father’s Day:
DAD (noun):
Max Pastor
Being present and practicing tikun olam (leaving the situation and the next generation in a better position than you found it).
Dr. John Bucuvalas
Listening and learning and committing to be better is key. The world is changing rapidly and is increasingly complex. Just because you are older, doesn’t mean you know better.
Frank Cohen
Giving love, support, guidance and the feeling that dad is always in your corner.
Steven Pastor
Love their mother and letting them know they don’t have to be perfect to succeed in life.
Harry Sudman
Don’t badmouth their mother and set a good example.
Louie Pastor
There is a famous Woody Allen quote that basically says 99% of life is just showing up. This is especially true of being a parent. The vast majority of being a good father is just being present, which includes being mentally present when you are physically present – e.g. not staring at your phone. Beyond that, I would say meeting your kids where they are – being interested in what they are interested in, not just trying to get them interested in what you are interested in.
Lou’s comment totally coincides with my opinion – supported by the conclusion of the series’ finale of Ted Lasso as seen on Apple TV. Don’t miss it.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom and to all the dads out there: HAPPY FATHER’S DAY,
Iris Ruth Pastor
June 8, 2023
What Most Impressed Me on my Recent Foray to Italy
For those of you who read my column regularly, you will know I just got back from spending seven days in Italy.
My bank of miles allowed me to travel free to Europe in Premium Economy. (You get “special amenities” and your seat is right behind First Class or Business). I paid for my trip back to the United States with dollars and landed in a seat approximating Main Cabin in domestic flights.
My one-way fare back from Florence via Paris to New York City was about $1000. I was fed two very substantial meals and was offered a plethora of snacks and beverages, served by smiling, polite and extremely accommodating flight attendants. I had excellent access to the very clean restrooms and watched three fascinating movies: After Sun, The Son and The Sixth Child. And I read my book.
The air time – about 10 hours in all – passed quickly, uneventfully and very pleasantly. And my window seat provided an unimpeded view of the rolling hills of Italy and then the magnificent cloud formations over the Atlantic Ocean.
Why am I writing about this? Because of all the sights I saw in Italy, of all the excellent wine I drank, the friends I made, the things I bought and the food I ate – nothing compared to the experience of crossing the ocean in such a modern day way.
Just over 120 years ago, things were very different. Poor people seeking a better life in the New World were buying passage to the United States in steerage. Passage usually cost about $30 per person and for that they were provided a cramped space below deck.
Food was often provided, but had to be cooked by the passengers. Popular fare was lukewarm soup, black bread, boiled potatoes, herring and stringy beef. Bedding was lugged on board by the passengers and they were then separated by marital status. Passengers slept on narrow bunks where the air was often quite stuffy. And little time was allotted on the upper deck in the fresh air.
In short: cramped, unsanitary conditions and poor food.
I traveled recently purely for pleasure – to experience the wondrous area of Tuscany in Italy. Many immigrants traveling in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s, like all of my great grandparents, were fleeing persecution and lack of economic opportunity. Steerage was the lowest grade of accommodation – similarly compared to the dismal conditions of a slave ship: danger, disease and suffering. Rats and lice abounded. Ventilation was non-existent.
When on the plane, I wore compression socks to help with my circulation. I carried a black-out mask in case I wanted to catch a cat nap. My cell phone was beside me at all times and a gently breeze from the vents above me kept me comfortable. The width of my seat was about 17 inches and there happened to be no one sitting next to me.
Emigrants fleeing Europe were typically on their voyage from 40 to 90 days depending on the weather and the wind. Each passenger had about two square feet of space for themselves and their belongings. And Sea Sickness was rampant.
Almost 1500 planes cross the Atlantic Ocean on an average summer night, separated by approximately 40 miles each. In spite of the huge number, I am still filled with sheer awe over the experience of flying across the ocean in blissful comfort in a matter of hours in 2023. And that is not even taking into consideration the amazing safety record of the airlines.
It is so humbling when I remember my great grandparents only 120 years ago crossed the same ocean huddled in steerage, facing an unknown future and a rigorous physical examination when they disembarked onto Ellis Island. Me? When I landed, I just had to show my passport, pick up my luggage and look for my driver, who was whisking me to one of my sons’ homes nearby.
It’s a lot easier to Preserve Our Bloom in 2023 –
Iris Ruth Pastor
