As I mentioned, my nephew Yitzhak, nee Eric, came on his yearly visit from Israel.
He comes to see all of us and to pray at his mother’s grave.
Last year he brought nine of his ten children. This year a measly 3 and a grandchild. My sister Marcia drove over 5 hours so she could see them.
They spent a few days with me and then took a short trip to Washington DC, which is about 5 hours from my house.
When he came back he said he was so impressed that Marcia drove down to see them because he found the drive to DC difficult.
“You don’t drive long distances in Israel?”
“If I drove 5 hours in Israel I’d be in Lebanon.”
When they arrived in DC he called to let me know that they had arrived safely. They had parked the car and were off to the Holocaust Museum.
“Sounds like fun. Enjoy.”
It wasn’t all sight seeing. They were also able to visited some Klam cousins
Plus they worked at fitting in by
- Lazing by the pool
and 2. demonstrating for the public good
They’ve returned to Israel but their American relatives miss them every day.
Now I don’t know if I’ve told you this before. I probably have but tough, all old people repeat themselves a lot.
When they come to my house they won’t eat off my plates, touch my food or use any of my cooking utensils so I have a big plastic bag filled with kosher stuff that I keep behind my couch when they aren’t here.
After they left I picked up the bag and was badly stabbed by a knife sticking out of the bag.
Now most people stabbed like that with a wound that clearly needed stitches or at least a sling would have asked for an ambulance but my dedication to family made me ignore my suffering and go to the aid of Julie who had life and death foot surgery the day before.
Over I went to care for her.
What I didn’t know was that I was risking my own survival in carrying her around her apartment, spoon feeding her plus doing general cleaning and light dusting.
In a short time my wound opened up and I was forced to bandage it up so that I wouldn’t lose too much blood.
(man do I need some moisturizer on my arms)
This was made worse because Julie told me that Ann Leary said that as you get older you lose fat in the only place you really want it, on the bottom of your feet.
Not only was I suffering from a blood loss which clearly resulted in light headedness, bleary eyesight and all around not goodness but I also was well on my way to bone bottom feet.
In spite of all this I soldiered on.
I don’t like to speak ill of the wounded but I asked Julie about 6 times where she keeps her slings and it was greeted by stony silence.
I just hope I can recover sufficiently to host my usual Thanksgiving dinner.
This year it’s for 20.
I think it’s 20. Being stabbed has played havoc with my memory.