thanksgiving unraveled

Two weeks ago today I wake up with a sore throat, stuffy nose and horrible cough. I go to Urgent Care where I'm told my vitals are excellent and I definitely don't have COVID. Weird to feel so awful and be told I'm so healthy.

So now it's Thanksgiving, and while I still have a bad cough, I otherwise feel fine.

The plan is to go to my nephew Adam's house. It'll be a large group, though we'll still be missing Sally, my niece who lives in Barcelona. Jason and his family of five, who will be in Florida. And Michael who will be with Dom in LA. Not the whole crew, but as our family grows, it gets harder and harder for us all to be together.

Alexander arrives home yesterday. My mom, sister Jean, her husband Jim and son Jack are all set to drive up from the Cape. This is my favorite holiday. Eating. Family. Socializing. No religious traditions. And what always is a lot of fun. My family is fun.

Yesterday I go downtown to get my hair highlighted with the amazing Mai. I'm sitting in the chair loaded up with aluminum.

My phone rings. It's my sister Valerie. And this is what happens in that short phone call.

• I learn that four-year old Henry has RSV.
• Two-year-old Charlotte has a bad cold.
• Adam and Rachel can no longer host as both their kids are sick. (They have already prepared for a big group, including two turkeys, a set table, flowers, etc.).
• Jack is sick so the whole Massachusetts contingency is now not coming.
• Valerie and Abbey are able to get a reservation at their Country Club through some last- minute miracle.
• Valerie hears my raspy voice and I tell her about my lingering cough. She's concerned that if I come to the Club I could inadvertently expose 100-year-old Rita to my bad cough/cold and I agree; I don't want to do that. But Alexander is still welcome.

UGH!!!!!'

I call Alexander and in a rare display of solidarity my son opts to stay home with me.

We are all disheartened. Everyone's favorite holiday has just unraveled.

But then I think...

While disappointing, we are still all so blessed. Everyone's healthy. My family will celebrate another time. I have many incredible friends. I live in an amazing city in an amazing country, even with all its flaws. I am working. I have plenty of food in the fridge. I have a digital library of almost 200 current films to watch (I vote in the British Academy Award-equivalent and get all the latest movies this time of year). Am my son is home.

And Mai always does the best job!

Oh and did I mention? My son is home.

I have much to be grateful for. Happy Thanksgiving.

a becoming 100

A few months back Jane Fonda was on the cover of People. The headline read, "Life Gets Better with Age."

Nice sentiment but not one I agree with.

But yet, there are those in my life (aside from my mom) who have managed to age with such grace, that for them, it might be true.

Rita, my sister's mother-in-law (and Abbey and Jill's mom), turned 100 on August 8. 

It's hard to imagine living that many years and not having anyone be able to say a negative thing about you.

Rita is lovely. She is considerate, thoughtful, interested and interesting, and the kind of person we should all aspire to be.

And she still has so many friends that instead of having just one party to celebrate her, she had to have two.

Both were given by Valerie and Jill. The first at a country club near Rye; the second at a country club in Long Island, where Rita has a zillion friends she's made over the years from her many days of golfing, card-playing, and socializing.

When Rita turned 90, my sister and Jill threw a great party for her, and I took the photos. I later made it into a book, that still, 10 years later, Rita tells me how much she loves it and how often she views it.

So it's only fitting that I should do the same for her 100th.

Here are just a few from Party #1.

And then Party #2 a couple of days later. Not too much for this energetic 100-year old women.

would you live here?

 Imagine you are looking at apartments, and your broker takes you here.

I know what my response would be. "Are you friggin' crazy? Show me something else!"

Well, this is where I live. An absolute sh-t show!

For starters, this is the third time in 8 years that I've had a sidewalk shed level with my apartment. That's what they call these monstrosities that are erected when work is being done on the front of a building. It's to protect the passing pedestrians.

The first time I was introduced to this structure was in February 2015. 

The work was finished in early January, 2016. The shed finally came down in mid-May. Yes, for five long months it just stayed up for no reason.

I had little light, zero privacy, and no street view in both my bedrooms and living room. My entire apartment is on the second floor facing north. It was an awful 15 months.

Then, in early August of 2020, it happened again. This time it was from a neighboring building, but the law requires that the shed be extended an extra 20 feet. Knowing what was coming made me almost want to cry. 

Again, my living room was blocked off from the street. This lasted 17 months. It was taken down in late December 2021.

So what is that? 32 months, or almost 3 years, of having no street view, no privacy, an ugly eye-sore to look at 24/7, compromised light, drilling and other loud noises beginning early morning, dirty windows all the time, and dust in my apartment that even shut windows can't keep out. Three years out of six. And zero give on rent (in fact, the opposite), or any other concessions from my landlord.

 

And now, it's happening again. In August another shed went up. Here's my current view.

This time I did cry. 

Thankfully the laws have changed and at least now mesh is used instead of opaque wood so at least I don't feel quite as caged in and claustrophobic.

But still. It's horrible.

And even worse, asbestos was found.

If only I could afford to move.

One of my biggest regrets is never having bought.

At this stage in my life, my only hope of that ever happening is winning the lottery. And well, the odds are just not in my favor.

a small miracle: my mom's incredible recovery

I go up to the Cape in early July, planning to work from there for a few weeks. Instead, I'm back in NY in a few days.

My mom's cough is horrid, and she has zero energy. She is clearly not up to having any guests.

Within two days of my leaving, she's in Falmouth Hospital as her oxygen level has dropped to a troublingly low level. While there, tests are conducted and she is diagnosed with pneumonia. But on one of the scans, the doctors identify a suspicious-looking thing that they have serious concerns about. My sisters and I do too. My mother less so.

The doctors want my mom to go to Boston for an invasive biopsy. My mom refuses. She says she is fine. My sisters and I disagree, but let my mother decide. She does, and doesn't go.

About a week later, my mom comes home from the hospital, and every day feels stronger. Her oxygen level improves. Her color comes back. The pneumonia ends. The coughing is majorly reduced. Her high energy level is back. And most importantly, a PET scan shows that the  suspicious-looking thing is nowhere to be found.

Soon after coming home from the hospital, my mom is making the rounds in her golf cart, along with M and my mom's friend and aide, the saintly Maria.

On September 26, my mom celebrates 94 years of great living. She still has a long way to go.

 My mom with Ellie and her granddaughter Sally, August 29.