There's an adage among Navy spouses that something always breaks when the military member deploys. On one of my father-in-law's deployments the car (and a shipmate's car) had so many problems, the wives put all the broken parts in a box and mailed them to the ship. They enclosed a note telling the guys to figure out which parts went to whose car. It's a fun memory, and a great way to deal with an annoying situation. When Sean left just before last Passover two things happened, I immediately came down with food poisoning, incapacitating me for three days, and the oven temperature wouldn't regulate. The food poisoning passed, and we figured out the oven problem just after Sean returned, but as I said it's always something.
Sean and I have been taking bets on what major appliance will go when he leaves. I was prepared for anything, so I thought. We're eighteen days into the deployment, and the first thing has broken (well except for the iron I dropped, but I didn't like that appliance anyway). Good money was on the oven baking its last challah with a close second to the dishwasher. The bedroom TV was running a close third. We were wrong. While the TV has a tendency to turn on and off by itself, it's hanging in there.
Tonight the kids and I attended a Safam concert at Beth Tikvah synagogue. Safam has been playing together for 36 years this winter. I've been listening to them for almost 30. The kids have been raised on their music. We have a Halloween tradition of doing something special as a family that gets us out of the house. The Safam concert was just perfect. Jesse sang along to all the songs, as did I. Gavi and Keren knew a fair share. Jesse bought the Safam Anthology, and got all their autographs. It was a lovely night. We arrived home just before 10:30, pulled into the garage, got out of the car, and nothing. The garage door isn't working.
In all our discussions of what might break, never did we mention the garage door opener. So much for being prepared. This first happened last week, right after I broke the iron and gave myself a black eye. I mentioned it to Sean. He said, "Yeah, that happens sometimes." Interesting that he never mentioned it. Last week it wasn't such a big deal. The door was shut, and the car on the outside. Tonight the door was stuck open at 10:30 PM. It couldn't stay open. I knew to manually close it I had to release it from the electric opener, the question was how. After some doing, I was able to disconnect the garage door opener from the door. I locked up the bicycles, since we never got the key to the garage door when we bought the house (it was long lost), and I closed the door. It's done now, but our door also lacks a handle on the outside. I cannot reopen it, because I can't get a proper grip. So tomorrow I have to search out garage door repair. Goody.
There you go. One broken appliance, seven months to go. It's always something.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
The Sinking of the K-141 Kursk
August, 16, 2000
This T"u B'Av, a day in the Jewish calendar for joy and love, the world watched as 116 men slowly perished on a Russian submarine at the bottom of the Barents Sea, only 330 feet from the surface. Granted, weather conditions made rescue nearly impossible. However, I, and countless others, was still glued to the TV screen checking the news every two hours as I nursed, then one month old, Gavriel. At one time the Soviet Union had the best submarine rescue system. With the fall of the USSR those boats were sold for scrap, too costly to maintain.
The US immediately offered aid, in any form needed, but the offer was ignored, neither accepted nor rejected. Three days after the sinking Russia finally asked for help from Britain. Why did it take three days, each day the possibility of rescue diminishing. Can we, as human beings, be so xenophobic as to allow the lives of 116 to slip away due to pride, fear, or worse, political agenda.
In Judaism, we are taught saving a life overrides all. Usually we refer to this a pikuach nefesh, but that does not fully cover the need. The rule of pikuach nefesh refers only to the immediate community. Rather, it is for reasons of Tikkun Olam that we care for the greater human community. Tikkun Olam, repairing the world, is especially important during the season of Tisha B'Av, a time when the Great Temples of Jerusalem were destroyed, the city burned because of sinat hinam, senseless hatred. Once again in this season souls are allowed to slip from this world because we hate and fear more than we love.
Not only among countries does this feeling flow. While many rejoice in the choice of Connecticut Senator Joseph Lieberman as the Democratic Vice Presidential candidate. Again feelings of sinat hinam flow, from within the Democratic Party itself, from the head of a NAACP chapter, Louis Farakhan, and Al Sharpton.
October 31, 2010
It's amazing how human nature never seems to change. These words could have been written in so many moments before the sinking of the Kursk, and in so many moments since. Sometimes we seem to be on the brink of destruction, but the I look back on moments like this, and I wonder if we always seem to be ready to hate.
This T"u B'Av, a day in the Jewish calendar for joy and love, the world watched as 116 men slowly perished on a Russian submarine at the bottom of the Barents Sea, only 330 feet from the surface. Granted, weather conditions made rescue nearly impossible. However, I, and countless others, was still glued to the TV screen checking the news every two hours as I nursed, then one month old, Gavriel. At one time the Soviet Union had the best submarine rescue system. With the fall of the USSR those boats were sold for scrap, too costly to maintain.
The US immediately offered aid, in any form needed, but the offer was ignored, neither accepted nor rejected. Three days after the sinking Russia finally asked for help from Britain. Why did it take three days, each day the possibility of rescue diminishing. Can we, as human beings, be so xenophobic as to allow the lives of 116 to slip away due to pride, fear, or worse, political agenda.
In Judaism, we are taught saving a life overrides all. Usually we refer to this a pikuach nefesh, but that does not fully cover the need. The rule of pikuach nefesh refers only to the immediate community. Rather, it is for reasons of Tikkun Olam that we care for the greater human community. Tikkun Olam, repairing the world, is especially important during the season of Tisha B'Av, a time when the Great Temples of Jerusalem were destroyed, the city burned because of sinat hinam, senseless hatred. Once again in this season souls are allowed to slip from this world because we hate and fear more than we love.
Not only among countries does this feeling flow. While many rejoice in the choice of Connecticut Senator Joseph Lieberman as the Democratic Vice Presidential candidate. Again feelings of sinat hinam flow, from within the Democratic Party itself, from the head of a NAACP chapter, Louis Farakhan, and Al Sharpton.
October 31, 2010
It's amazing how human nature never seems to change. These words could have been written in so many moments before the sinking of the Kursk, and in so many moments since. Sometimes we seem to be on the brink of destruction, but the I look back on moments like this, and I wonder if we always seem to be ready to hate.
Life lessons in 1999 and 2010
June 15, 1999
Just about 14 years ago I sat down to write an essay for my application to Brandeis University. I wrote about being part of a people, a greater community, where I'd always had a home. I was talking about the Jewish People, but I know there's a greater human community that I've been touched by, and I hope I've touched it as well.
Since arriving in Pearl Harbor I've had time to think and focus in a way I haven't since college. Brandeis did that. There were more life lessons than practical experience, but university is a place to be molded, a place to create, not a place to enter the robotic assembly line of "real life."
I arrived hoping for a job, but found none. After some (okay, much) panic, I've been able to separate from the idea that I had to work. I am not, and will not be defined by a job. For the first time in a long time I feel like writing, like I did at Brandeis, to pour out feelings and emotions, and make them permanent. I've been thinking of who I am, and of those who helped create tis person called Jennifer, or more formally- Rabbi Jennifer Rachel Elkin Gorman. It's a long name, but I like it because it describes so much of me. I've decided to write letters to the these who were most involved in creating that incarnation. People should be thanked for the gifts they give.
October 31, 2010
Once again the US Navy has left me without a job. I left my position at USCJ because of the hours and travel required. It's not something I can do while functioning as a single parent. The Navy Times published a study while we were in Pearl Harbor about military spouses' ability to work while married to an active duty military member. The likelihood of employment dropped ten percent for each year of post-high school education. I have ten years post-high school, four for my BA, six for my MA and ordination. That means I have a 100 % likelihood of not being able to find a job while married to an active military member. It's a statistic that Sean and I have laughed at many times, but it's played out true. When the initial idea for Sean's unit to deploy came through, we looked at my position, and realized pretty quickly it was playing true again. We could laugh about it or cry. While there a few moments of despair, it was not going to change, so we embraced the laughter instead.
We also found ourselves appreciating, once again, the family and friends we have. I know Sean's in good hands, and he's comforted by the amazing support system we have here. In the past twelve hours, two friends have called just to check in. Just knowing the support system is there is a great comfort for both Sean & me. The kids teachers check in on them, and with me.
It was good to be home for Shabbat, to be back at Pride of Israel. Everyone wants to know how Sean is doing. I feel we've been traveling for so long, that somehow Sean's been gone for months already, but it's only been eighteen days. We have a schedule now, at least taking care of our physical lives. The emotional lives may take a little longer. For the kids it's been up and down. Before Sean left we went to dinner. While waiting for our meals we all wrote down the "Things We Will Miss."
Things Sean will miss: the inbound monkey, endless conversations about submarine operations on which I know nothing, face-licking by the cat at 5:00 AM, cupcake challah, seltzer club
Things Keren will miss: Abba, the "You have one big eye," Abba's good food, seltzer club
Things Eema will miss: cups of tea, chocolate milk, or hot cocoa appearing from no where, the inbound monkey, help with mornings while I'm unconscious, sharing the blame
Things Jesse will miss: EVERYTHING
Things Gavi will miss: beating Abba, Gandalf licking Abba's face to wake him up in the morning, throwing the inbound monkey at Abba, Abba's good food
We miss all these things, but mostly the day to day presence. It's all the little things that make up a life together. There's not much to say when we're on the computer, because all those things you talk about, all those things you share are important in the moment, the details that make up life. Technology is a wonderful thing. We've been sharing breakfast, and the kids love it, but it lacks all the wonders and moments that make a life. I didn't think of it at the restaurant, but I miss the laughter, especially at night when were in bed talking. I miss the warmth on the other side of the bed (the giant pile of laundry doesn't compare). I miss the sharing that somehow doesn't seem to happen through a computer screen.
When we arrived at Pride yesterday morning, Keren and Jesse fell into their comfort zones, but for Gavi the weight was back on his stomach. Being there without Abba makes him sad, and he's stated he doesn't want to go on the bima until Abba comes back. He simply stayed next to me. This too shall pass, but it's not easy.
Just about 14 years ago I sat down to write an essay for my application to Brandeis University. I wrote about being part of a people, a greater community, where I'd always had a home. I was talking about the Jewish People, but I know there's a greater human community that I've been touched by, and I hope I've touched it as well.
Since arriving in Pearl Harbor I've had time to think and focus in a way I haven't since college. Brandeis did that. There were more life lessons than practical experience, but university is a place to be molded, a place to create, not a place to enter the robotic assembly line of "real life."
I arrived hoping for a job, but found none. After some (okay, much) panic, I've been able to separate from the idea that I had to work. I am not, and will not be defined by a job. For the first time in a long time I feel like writing, like I did at Brandeis, to pour out feelings and emotions, and make them permanent. I've been thinking of who I am, and of those who helped create tis person called Jennifer, or more formally- Rabbi Jennifer Rachel Elkin Gorman. It's a long name, but I like it because it describes so much of me. I've decided to write letters to the these who were most involved in creating that incarnation. People should be thanked for the gifts they give.
October 31, 2010
Once again the US Navy has left me without a job. I left my position at USCJ because of the hours and travel required. It's not something I can do while functioning as a single parent. The Navy Times published a study while we were in Pearl Harbor about military spouses' ability to work while married to an active duty military member. The likelihood of employment dropped ten percent for each year of post-high school education. I have ten years post-high school, four for my BA, six for my MA and ordination. That means I have a 100 % likelihood of not being able to find a job while married to an active military member. It's a statistic that Sean and I have laughed at many times, but it's played out true. When the initial idea for Sean's unit to deploy came through, we looked at my position, and realized pretty quickly it was playing true again. We could laugh about it or cry. While there a few moments of despair, it was not going to change, so we embraced the laughter instead.
We also found ourselves appreciating, once again, the family and friends we have. I know Sean's in good hands, and he's comforted by the amazing support system we have here. In the past twelve hours, two friends have called just to check in. Just knowing the support system is there is a great comfort for both Sean & me. The kids teachers check in on them, and with me.
It was good to be home for Shabbat, to be back at Pride of Israel. Everyone wants to know how Sean is doing. I feel we've been traveling for so long, that somehow Sean's been gone for months already, but it's only been eighteen days. We have a schedule now, at least taking care of our physical lives. The emotional lives may take a little longer. For the kids it's been up and down. Before Sean left we went to dinner. While waiting for our meals we all wrote down the "Things We Will Miss."
Things Sean will miss: the inbound monkey, endless conversations about submarine operations on which I know nothing, face-licking by the cat at 5:00 AM, cupcake challah, seltzer club
Things Keren will miss: Abba, the "You have one big eye," Abba's good food, seltzer club
Things Eema will miss: cups of tea, chocolate milk, or hot cocoa appearing from no where, the inbound monkey, help with mornings while I'm unconscious, sharing the blame
Things Jesse will miss: EVERYTHING
Things Gavi will miss: beating Abba, Gandalf licking Abba's face to wake him up in the morning, throwing the inbound monkey at Abba, Abba's good food
We miss all these things, but mostly the day to day presence. It's all the little things that make up a life together. There's not much to say when we're on the computer, because all those things you talk about, all those things you share are important in the moment, the details that make up life. Technology is a wonderful thing. We've been sharing breakfast, and the kids love it, but it lacks all the wonders and moments that make a life. I didn't think of it at the restaurant, but I miss the laughter, especially at night when were in bed talking. I miss the warmth on the other side of the bed (the giant pile of laundry doesn't compare). I miss the sharing that somehow doesn't seem to happen through a computer screen.
When we arrived at Pride yesterday morning, Keren and Jesse fell into their comfort zones, but for Gavi the weight was back on his stomach. Being there without Abba makes him sad, and he's stated he doesn't want to go on the bima until Abba comes back. He simply stayed next to me. This too shall pass, but it's not easy.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
October 28, 2010
It's been almost one regular week. So far so good. I'm just tired. For a person without a job, it's amazing how much there is to do. I'm almost dug out from our travels. Now I just need to dig out mentally. Oh well, maybe next week.
Gavi's speech is slipping back into old bad habits. Hopefully he can get a few more speech therapy sessions. I can't help but wonder if it has to do with Sean's travel or Gavi's laziness, maybe it's a little of both. When he's thinking about it he can speak, but it's still an effort.
I'm tired after this week. It's hard being the only parent on sight. I feel like it's been a long time. Actually it feels like we were away a long time more than Sean's been gone from us, it's like time stretches. There are things I can't yet wrap my mind around, but I know I have to.
Well, we're one more day closer.
Tonight we ate dinner at the karate studio again. It worked well, sandwiches and cut veggies. It's nice to get home and not have a late dinner. I feel better having eaten earlier, and the kids get to bed at a reasonable hour. We even planned a menu for next week so I wouldn't have to scramble each day or guess what the kids might eat.
We're also sticking to the bedtime routine. There are nights I want to say go to sleep, I'm not singing tonight, but it really dies help to have a routine. Keren is waking and sleeping easier, and her fears of something happening to Sean have lessened. I'm sure much of that is because she see's him on the computer pretty regularly.
Otherwise it is life as usual. It's amazing how normal abnormal situations can get. I remember being in Hawaii and realizing I was forgetting to look up, and I was missing the daily rainbows. I made it a point to search the sky regularly after that. Here it's turned cold and windy. Somehow it reminds me of the beginning of March, blowing like a lion. I don't mind the cold, but I hate the wind biting into my skin. Still, I was enjoying the strength of the wind yesterday, appreciating it's power, and, on some level, our powerlessness against it.
Gavi's speech is slipping back into old bad habits. Hopefully he can get a few more speech therapy sessions. I can't help but wonder if it has to do with Sean's travel or Gavi's laziness, maybe it's a little of both. When he's thinking about it he can speak, but it's still an effort.
I'm tired after this week. It's hard being the only parent on sight. I feel like it's been a long time. Actually it feels like we were away a long time more than Sean's been gone from us, it's like time stretches. There are things I can't yet wrap my mind around, but I know I have to.
Well, we're one more day closer.
Tonight we ate dinner at the karate studio again. It worked well, sandwiches and cut veggies. It's nice to get home and not have a late dinner. I feel better having eaten earlier, and the kids get to bed at a reasonable hour. We even planned a menu for next week so I wouldn't have to scramble each day or guess what the kids might eat.
We're also sticking to the bedtime routine. There are nights I want to say go to sleep, I'm not singing tonight, but it really dies help to have a routine. Keren is waking and sleeping easier, and her fears of something happening to Sean have lessened. I'm sure much of that is because she see's him on the computer pretty regularly.
Otherwise it is life as usual. It's amazing how normal abnormal situations can get. I remember being in Hawaii and realizing I was forgetting to look up, and I was missing the daily rainbows. I made it a point to search the sky regularly after that. Here it's turned cold and windy. Somehow it reminds me of the beginning of March, blowing like a lion. I don't mind the cold, but I hate the wind biting into my skin. Still, I was enjoying the strength of the wind yesterday, appreciating it's power, and, on some level, our powerlessness against it.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Winter comes to Hawaii... and normalcy
I have been neglectful of my writing. We have settled in. Life seems normal and regular. We even sometimes forget we are in Hawaii. Jesse takes all our time. I cannot wait to have another.
The AJC Hanukah party suffered from lack of planning. It was fine for adults: food, schmoozing, but there was nothing for the children. It was left as a pot luck with no organizer. We brought videos for Jesse and other children.
Tu B'Shevat brought us a seder planned by a congregant. It was lacking the foods I am used to: carob and dates. Rather, we ate pineapple, mango, and coconut. It was great! It was beautifully planned. 35 people attended post-Superbowl. The congregation is small, but devoted.
Purim will bring a hamantashen bake and an adult class on minhag by me! I'm very excited.
The AJC Hanukah party suffered from lack of planning. It was fine for adults: food, schmoozing, but there was nothing for the children. It was left as a pot luck with no organizer. We brought videos for Jesse and other children.
Tu B'Shevat brought us a seder planned by a congregant. It was lacking the foods I am used to: carob and dates. Rather, we ate pineapple, mango, and coconut. It was great! It was beautifully planned. 35 people attended post-Superbowl. The congregation is small, but devoted.
Purim will bring a hamantashen bake and an adult class on minhag by me! I'm very excited.
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