First and foremost: Chanukah Same'ach! Tonight is the 6th candle.
By the time you read this, I’ll be back slogging through snow on the tundra, but at this very moment, I’m sitting in my parents’ kitchen in sunny Flah-rida, waiting to go take a walk through one of my all time favorite places: the gardens at the Morikami Museum.
I need a schvatzeer through those zen gardens after a long weekend at octogenarian central. It’s not like there’s anything wrong with anyone, it’s just that at my age, being the youngest person in a twenty mile radius is a bit depressing. Instead of feeling spry, I feel ancient and decrepit, two things I definitely am not!
Okay, I’m not the youngest person….my little cousin is visiting her grandparents (my aunt and uncle), so that makes her, a college sophomore, the youngest person in a twenty mile radius. But I think for her this is more of a novelty than anything else. For me, it’s a sign of scary things to come. If I hear one more “she has a boyfriend and he’s only 92 and he still drives!” story, I’m going to throw myself off the Wakodahatchee Wetlands footbridge.
Good thing I went to the Morikami with my friends Michelle and Randy. At least they weren’t be yelling, “WHAT? WHAT?” every time I said something. Its so nice to have a conversation in hushed tones that doesn’t include either of the phrases “do you need a sweater?” or “have you eaten something?”
I’m pretty certain I sound the same way to my kids, and I’m pretty certain they get about the same annoyed as I get with my mother. Still, I am thankful my folks are still around to annoy me even though there are moments I would like to wish myself away. It’s hard to be an adult for 360 days a year, and be expected to be a child for 5 days on demand. I do find myself bristling at the nagging and the cheppering; and, there are moments when I do respond as a child would. I try to keep those to a minimum, but I swear, it’s harder than it sounds. We used to joke that when you got to our house back on Long Island, you unscrewed your head and stowed it in the foyer closet. Unfortunately, there’s no foyer closest here.
But back to the Morikami for a moment. Ah, the Morikami. What a delightful place! Strolling the gardens was heavenly, as was the conversation. We talked of all manner of things, and enjoyed each other’s company. [Shameless plug: If you make it to the Delray Beach/Boca area, make it a point to visit the Morikami; it’s well worth the price of admission.]
My suitcase is packed….well, except for the pound of pastrami sitting in the fridge. That’s the thing about coming down here…I always run amok at Glick’s Kosher Market to bring home exotic things…like real pastrami and homemade lamb sausage. It’s tough not to buy out the store!
And so, as the sun sets in the west, I prepare to depart the warmer climes. As much as I love the warmth, as much as I love the idea that there’s a beach to comb just a couple of miles from the kitchen, I am smart enough to know I’m not ready for this life quite yet.
There’s a snow blower with my name on it sitting in the garage.
WIFELY PERSON’S TIP O’THE WEEK
When visiting parents, always remember to unscrew head
and stow in nearest closet.