Memories
| Bubbas Mintzes #9 (final) |
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This is the final message that was sent by Bea to her beloved grandchildren. I hope they all remember..... "Nothing the heart gives away is gone, it is kept in the hearts of others" anonymous.. Mom you are forever in our hearts and forevered remember... I love you too..Kitty
Mon 1/15/2007 8:18 PM
Hi guys
It's been a long time since I wrote one of these. Where has the year gone? I always think about writing one and then I guess I thought I did, so I don't. Well here is another one.
Observation: The books you read, the movies you read, the paintings you see, the music you listen to, all change as you get older. At each age, works of art take on different meanings because you have had different experiences. I can see a movie now that I saw as a kid and it is like seeing a whole new movie. I can listen to a song and it is as though I never really listened to the words before.
History: The teen-age years, as we call them now, were naturally very difficult for me. The term teen-ager was not even invented yet. I remember people always talking about "what was the matter with Bea". We had moved to a triplex on Pasadena Avenue in Detroit. It was a larger house, but still only one bathroom.
We did not have school buses, but took the city bus to Junior High School. Since school was always easy for me, I always got good marks and liked it. Unfortunately, my parents tried their best to keep me a child so I was constantly being fined (no allowance) for wearing lipstick, not wearing leggings in the cold, shaving my legs, wearing nail polish, and worst of all, buying a bra. I always had boyfriends and seemed to get mixed messages from my parents on how I should react to them. I was never taught anything about sex either in school or at home. It was sort of acquired by word of mouth. Actually, we were all pretty innocent for the most part. I was one mixed up kid.
I somehow got thrown out of the group of girls I hung around with. Many years later I was told it was because they were jealous of me as I could do things easier. However, at the time, I didn't know why and it was a big jolt to suddenly be excluded from your group. I found another "best friend", but my mother certainly didn't like her or any of the other friends I was coming up with. I suspect she did not approve of their families as they were different from ours. One was French Canadian, etc. etc. Yes, there was a lot of prejudice in our families then.
In those years I taught piano and baby sat for extra money and worked at my Aunt's toy store on holidays and in the summer. We went to Sunday school and went to the synagogue on the Jewish Holidays. My father worked about 10 hours a day and my mother was a substitute teacher. My father always complained that it was because of her that he had to pay higher taxes. I sometimes helped my father with book keeping (but not often), did the dishes every night and occasionally helped clean. I learned to make some of my own cloths in school and of course was heart broken if I didn't get a sweater like the other girls had. I was very independent and don't ever remember calling my parents if I was in a bad situation and needed help.
My grandmother lived with us and did all the cooking. Although there was never much communication in our home, I always felt she cared for us. Looking back on it now, she must have lived a very lonely life and I always picture her as old even though she was only 72 when she died. From the only picture I have of her, she does look very, very old. She was considered legally blind. but I remember she would sit with a magnifying glass and read the "Forwitz", a Jewish newspaper. She could read Jewish.
Our house was always full of people. We were always feeding people. There were meetings and social things all the time. My mother was very social. My father could fall asleep on the sofa with a houseful of people. My father bought a "summer farm" on Lake Huron where we could spend our summers. We always had visiting relatives taking their summer vacations there.
I belonged to B'nai Brith Girls, joined a theater group at the Jewish Community Center, played piano, took modern dancing, had a duo-dance team with my cousin and spent many, many hours in the library. I started going "steady" with my first serious boyfriend at 14 and went with him for a year and half. Unfortunately, he had quit school and was working. My parents tried to break us up, but we resisted, naturally. Eventually he broke up our relationship. I cried for months.
I decided to go to a special high school in Detroit where you picked a major. You had to take an entrance exam to get in and depending on the major, have a folio or audition. I majored in music. I had to travel and hour by bus to get there, but it was a good education. Other high schools went for only a half day, but ours went a full day as we spent a half day on our major. I met people from all over the city, every race, every financial state. Then I met my first husband. We grew up fast in those days.
The Korean War had started, but it did not have much meaning for us. It was thought of about as much as the Iraq War is today. However, there was a draft still from the WWll and you could be called up if you had no children or were in the reserves.
To be continued
Love
Grandma
Mon 7/10/2006 6:03 PM
Hi Guys
Hope all is well. Still have to go to town to see the sun most days. If your too hot where you are, just come down here. Found new beaches on the newly acquired Hearst property. Very windy so I guess they are good for surfing.
Opinion: You do not have the power to change anyone. Only they have the power to change themselves. This is kind of an ego thing, Wanting to change someone. It is usually women who think they can change some guy. It goes something like this, "all he needs is a little love and he will become the best person in the world." We can try to motivate people, but change them? Nope.
Change comes from within. It comes from one's own desire to change. However, if a person is truly motivated, like an alcoholic who joins AA, they can re-invent themselves. it is important to understand that there is a difference between supporting someone emotionally who wants to change or move ahead and enabling someone to stay stuck in a bad place. When you are parents, it is important to understand that there is a difference between such things as "mother love" and "smother love". The only one who should give us "unconditional love" is our dog. If destructive behavior is blamed on someone else's responses or excused by our loved ones, we end up weak. Yes, life is hard and responsibility for ourselves is the "pits". But, without taking that responsibility we end up in a "Catch 22" feeling worse about ourselves every time we "screw up" which leads us to more destructive behavior. Of course, all of my children and grandchildren are strong and responsible. And I love you.
History: When I went to school, kids could play outside until dark without anybody wondering if they were kidnapped or whatever. Never worried about internet abductions, getting kids to various practices, or what they were seeing at the movies etc. etc. In other words, raising kids was much easier. We had the privilege of staying innocent for quite a while. Life was much more free.
I loved school. Perhaps because I was successful in school. It was never boring. Even in elementary school we went to different classes with different teachers for half the day and had art, music, science, social studies, literature and physical education. We walked home for lunch most of the time.
When I was in kindergarten, it was discovered I could pick out tunes on the piano. So, I was given piano lessons. By 6 years old, I was traveling on the bus alone to my piano lessons. What was really neat, was that the Detroit Institute of Music was around the corner from the main library and art museum. I spent many wonderful hours hanging around both places. The museum had an Egyptian Room with real mummies in it. That was kind of scary. Now that I look back on it, I realize nobody every was worried about my getting home. One time, I took the wrong bus and had to get off miles from my house. It never occurred to me to call anyone for help. I just walked home. I guess it was expected that I should solve my own problems.
I was a fat little girl, but a tomboy. Usually played baseball in the empty lot with the boys instead of with dolls. I don't remember ever having a special doll. I once had a black doll. I think someone gave it to me. We were visiting someone in Windsor who had a little girl who wanted that doll. My mother made me give it to her. I suspect she was uncomfortable with me having a black doll. By the way. They were called "pickinini dolls" then. Can you imagine? In the winter we would build snow forts and have snowball fights, go ice skating, build snowmen and ride sleds. In the summer we would go swimming, play games like roof ball, hide and seek, war, kick the can, etc. etc. I was never inside, except to practice piano. Nobody ever told me to practice. I just liked it.
My piano teacher was Miss Ross. She was an "old maid". All her student's pictures were kept on display in her lesson room. Twice a year we had recitals. The better you got, the further into the program you were put. My best friend, Rosalie Mandel, also took piano lessons from Miss Ross. I think we were a little competitive. I really liked Miss Ross, although I knew nothing about her. My mother liked to show me off to her friends. If there was a meeting or dinner at our house, I always had to play the piano. My Aunt Rose, her sister, had a lovely voice. I used to accompany her on the piano. In later years, I realized that my mother saw my piano playing as an extension of herself and this was really the only thing I did that made her at all happy with me.
When the kids on the block wanted to play, they would stand outside my door and yell "Beets". We all played together no matter what age. Many years later, someone said to me, I remember you as always dragging your sister behind you. I don't remember it that way. She was just there, like all the other kids. However, she was a terrible "tattle taler". I never got away with anything. She always ran to my mother with whatever I was doing wrong. I used to take after her when she teased me and chase her around the dining room table. Then, of course, I was punished for picking on my little sister.
We both shared a bedroom. There was usually someone else living with us, a grandmother, an aunt, etc. Lots of people and only one bathroom. You would think that with both of us living in such close quarters we would have become close. it was just the opposite. Perhaps because we were so different.
We used to ride out to my dad's sister's house, almost weekly, to see my grandmother before my grandmother came to live with us. They lived on the East side of Detroit in a "single" family house. Their name was Garfinkle. We passed two cemeteries on the way. That was really spooky for me. I always hated that. They did not live in a "Jewish" neighborhood which caused some comment. Her husband owned a framing and book store in Gross Point (the wealthiest section of Detroit). They were both intellectuals. My aunt was a secretary at Wayne University and they had two children. Joan, was 5 days older than me and Martin was older than us. Later on, he became an artist. When we were children, Joan and I were very close. We both went a little nuts and married too young. Have lost track of that side of the family. My aunt had red hair and once said that if Joan and I had been born to each other's family, we would not have been a problem. Maybe so. My aunt was the first one anybody knew of to get a divorce. Her husband got another woman pregnant. The other woman had a son who later committed suicide. Of course, none of this was ever talked about. There was very little communication in those days. Women did not even tell anyone they were pregnant when they were married. I found out all about my aunt from my cousin. After her divorce, my grandmother came to live with us.
To be continued.
Love
Grandma
Sun 6/4/2006 12:32 PM
Hi Guys
The sun is shining and it is warm today. Maybe the cold and wet has passed. The warm weather is late this year. The wild flowers are still out on the coast, but not inland.
Observation: Change is the only absolute. Everything is in a constant mode of change not only in the universe, but in our emotional lives as well. Sooooo, can you count on anything being the same always? Nope. Wait a minute, it will change, is the rule. This can be good if you are going through a rough period as things will certainly change ( hopefully not to a rougher period). Of course it is hard to remember that the rough period will change while you are going through it. And, if you are having a good period in life, enjoy, enjoy, enjoy, love, love, love every minute. It is spring. Smell the flowers. Look at the colors. Listen to the birds.
History: World War II may sound like ancient history to you, but it had enormous impact on my generation's life. I can remember the announcement of the bombing of Pearl Harbor on the radio by President Franklin Roosevelt. My father was sitting on the sofa and everyone was very shocked. I was in elementary school. I had been reading the funny page from the newspaper (as usual) on my hands and knees on the floor. From then on, life changed dramatically. We had the draft, rationing of much of our goods (meat, butter, gasoline, nylon stockings etc.etc.), war stamps and bonds, air raid practice, re-cycling of newspapers, tin cans and tin foil (from the inside of cigarette packs), and rubber bands. We had war movies and music. Since I was a tomboy, I played "War" with the boys. Never was much of a one for dolls. .
In school we made fake ration books to learn how to use them. Bought war stamps which eventually turned into war bonds we acquired enough stamps. Learned patriotic songs. Learned how to work together for the great effort. I performed for the local USO (where troops were entertained) by playing the piano for singers and tap dancing. I had been taking piano lessons since I was 6 (going myself on the city bus to them). Occasionally we had soldiers come over to the house for a home cooked meal. We occasionally went to Canada to get cloths and liquor which we couldn't get in the U.S. Yes, we snuck them into the U.S. Detroit was on the border of Canada. There was both a tunnel and a bridge to Windsor. My father's mother, who lived with us, was constantly knitting sweaters for the soldiers. She was legally blind.
We could not buy new cars, appliances, and many of the things we now consider necessities. My father was too old for the service. He wanted to go into the Merchant Marines, but he was too old for that also. He became an air raid warden. Of course, the cabs kept running because that was one of the only forms of private transportation for servicemen as well as the general public. All natural materials went into the war effort, to make weapons and ammunition, uniforms, helmets, etc.etc. And it was all done very, very quickly. Yes, things can change very quickly in this society given the right leadership and public awareness. There was a lot of publicity about what horrible monsters the Japanese were. Unfortunately, for our history, the Japanese were put in camps even if their sons were serving in the service and black soldiers could not fight in the same units as white soldiers. Seems weird today, but that is how it was. When the laws were changed by the service, it was a first step towards de-segregation. Don't know if things would have ever changed if not for the war.
Being Jewish, we learned way ahead of most of the rest of the public about the holocaust. It is hard to fathom now that it took 7,000,000 killed in German Nazi camps to bring it to our realization. But then, look what is happening to Africa and we are not really doing much of anything to stop that. At the end of the war in the European sector, our house was a center for collecting cloths and food to send overseas to immigrant camps. My mother and friends were constantly sending out packages. These people had been in concentration camps and now they were held in camps until they could find countries to take them in. They had to sneak into Israel (it was not a Jewish State yet) and nobody else was taking large numbers of Jewish survivors. I cannot fathom how these people managed to survive. I am not so sure I could do it if put in their position.
I could go on and on about those years, like how we sent cigarettes overseas to our soldiers as a patriotic duty (cigarette companies covered up health concerns of cigarettes then too). The bad things and the good things (like penicillin) which came out because of the war would make a large volume. If you have special questions, just write me. I think this is enough for one reading.
Love
Grandma
Mon 5/1/2006 7:32 PM
Observation: Going to another geographical place is the only way to really know it. That is, if you stay away from the "group" and really talk to people from whatever place it is you are visiting. You can read about cities, states, countries, etc. in books, but the actual "gestalt (a psychological term, look it up) will not be yours until you are there. One of you guys (who shall remain nameless) was with us at Disneyland one time when they were showing the U.S. on the circle screen they had. I said that your grandpa and I had been to every place pictured and hoped you could get to all those places too. The response was "I don't need to, I already saw it in the movie". Nope, it is not the same thing. I am afraid that young people are retreating more and more into the unreal world of movies, TV, Internet, cell phones and IPod and not experiencing reality. In other words, the unreal is becoming your reality. After all, reality for all of us is only the sum of our experiences. An interesting speech on this was given in the English Parliament recently.
I am always surprised at what I find in other places, especially in foreign countries. I never knew how Catholic Bavaria and Spain were until I got there. I never knew that the people of Bali actually lived every day colored by their type of Hindu religion etc.etc. The world is a fascinating place and the people are equally fascinating. Spend your money on travel and experiences instead of things. It will stay with you until you are senile, while things can disappear overnight.
History: Well we have finally come to the place where I am born. It was during the depression, but my parents had an apartment by then. I think it was on Pingree St, near 12th St in Detroit, Michigan. I was born at Harper Hospital in Detroit. One story about me as a baby is that my mother left me in a buggy on the porch and my father was suppose to be watching me. It began to snow, my father had fallen asleep on the sofa in the living room. My mother came home and found me still in the buggy, covered with snow. Of course, I survived. I can't remember hardly anything about my babyhood.
My sister was born when I was 2 1/2. I remember her coming home from the hospital in my mother's arms. I was excited and when they carried her by me, I thought she smiled at me. I said, "She is smiling at me". My mother said, "Don't be silly, she just has gas". From then on I was jealous because she was the pretty one. Everyone used to exclaim over her beautiful long curly hair. I had straight hair cut in what was called a Dutch boy cut. It looked like someone put a bowl over your head and cut around the edges. Also, my ears stuck out. People in the family used to exclaim how sad it was that I had those ears. As you can see, raising children was not done with much sensitivity in those days.
Later in life I had plastic surgery to plaster my ears back. I was in my thirties by then. It was a great psychological lift having plastic surgery.
After the surgery, when my ears still weren't quite heeled, I sneezed. Jack put his hand over his mouth and gasped. I said "What is wrong"? He said, "Your ears" and gave a motion that they had sprung back out. Funny man. I could have killed him.
I remember a birthday party when I was 5, but not many birthday parties after that. We had moved to a duplex by then that my parents had bought. Life was much more serious. People had survived the depression and were not about to spend any money on frivolous things. We had a retired cab for a car (only one car per family), one bathroom, a coal furnace that needed coal shoveled in it every morning, a wringer washer, an icebox (no refrigerator yet), a radio, and a piano. My sister and I shared a bedroom. We were considered middle class.
Monday, April 10, 2006 9:03 AM
Hi Guys
In case you are wondering, the loose translation of Bubba Mintzes is Grandmother's Stories. It comes from Yiddish which is kind of a slang from the German and Slavic languages. The sounds are a little different than the German, but if you are in Germany and know Yiddish you can pick up some of the words spoken to you. Yiddish is a colorful, but dying language. Neither I, nor my siblings learned it. I don't think any of my cousins learned it either (outside of a few expressions).
Obervation: The effects of betrayal can have lasting emotional trauma especially if it happens over and over. Then you start asking "Why do I invite this behavior from others". In close relationships, such as long friendships, marriage, and family, trust is put in you as well as your trusting others. Loyalty becomes no just a word.
Sometimes, our own emotional needs are compelling and we are tempted to betray those whom we have these relationships with. If we give in to these needs, and the betrayal is discovered by the other party, it is usually the end of the relationship. I am not just talking about sexual betrayal, I am talking about attitudes and other actions as well.You better ask yourself if you are willing to lose that relationship permanently. This might bring you to your senses.
Also, it takes a lot of gumption if you have been betrayed in early childhood as well as adulthood to trust again. However, the alternative is a pretty empty life. I had an aunt whoes husband had an affair with another woman and had a child by that woman. She divorced him and never would have another relationship with a man. She lived an empty life. Her children grew up and left and unfortunately, most of the family condemned her for getting the divorce and did not see her often. At that time divorce was unheard of. She led a very empty and unhappy existence. I learned from her experience. Be careful of those you love and if you are betrayed, don't let it color all your relationships.
History: My mother had four sisters, Rose, Ray, Ida and Margie. My mother's name was Dorothy. I don't know what my grandmother or grandfather's name was on that side. The family name was Friedles.
My father had two brothers and one sister, Joe, Charles and Dorothy. My grandmother's name was Amelia or "Molka" in Hebrew or Yiddish. The family name was Brindze. I don't know what my grandfather's name was on that side.
Of course the names were spelled by illiteration from the original Russian, so I don't know how it would look in the Russian alphabet.
My mother (Dorothy) and father (Jim Brindze) met in Cleveland, Ohio where my mother lived. My father lived in Detroit, Michigan. He originally dated Ray (her sister). My mother met him and decided that was who she wanted to marry. She asked Ray if she was serious about him. Since Ray said she wasn't, my mother went after him (by her own admission). As you can see, my mother was pretty aggresive and not shy.
They were married in Cleveland and left for Detroit in a friend's car. It was very bad weather, in winter. The car skidded and they had an accident and spent their honeymoon in the hospital.
They must have dated in Detroit during their courtship as it was told that my father had a canoe with many pillows and a gramaphone (a wind up machine that played records, those flat black disks). He kept the canoe at Belle Island, a park in the Detroit River in Detroit. Evidently, they used to go canoeing and then tip the canoe over on it's side and sleep under it. They also played tennis. My mother was very thin, tiny and athletic then. She evidently gave all that up after she was married. I remember her as being heavy.
This was during the depression years. My mother and father lived with his parents as did all of the boys and their wives. Everyone lived in one house during the depression years as there was not enough money for everyone to get seperate residences. My mother never got over this period and was pretty bitter about the whole arrangement.
My father owned three taxi cabs at the time, but could not afford to run them, so they pretty much sat unused during the depression. He worked at a gas station for $10 a week. My mother worked at odd jobs because she could not get a teaching job. She had become a teacher at Yipsilanti Normal School on a two year program before they were married. Eventually, they rented an apartment.
If you guys ever have any questions, please email me. I guess I don['t write everything and might leave out some stuff. Same for observations.
Love ya all
Grandma
PS My name is Beatrice (Bea for short). My hebrew name is Basha, which means beautiful. When I read Dante's Infernal, I found out that Beatrice was the most perfect woman that there ever was. However, I don't think my mother even knew about Dante, so I don't have to live up to that ideal. We will just leave it at "beautiful".
Tuesday, March 28, 2006 1:22 PM
To My Grandchildren,
Observation: What would we do without our artists, performers, writers, musicians, etc.etc.? What would life be like without these people who take us out of ourselves for a short period of time and show us other ways of living and feeling? Life would probably be dull. Just got my cultural shot in LA and I sure miss the LA scene. Yes, we have our little theater and small art galleries, but it is not LA or NY or SF. Hope all of you get to see some memorable artistic events now and then. I can remember great symphonies, wonderful plays, great art exhibits, great ballets etc. etc.
History: My grandfather and grandmother on my mother's side came from Russia when my mother was about 3 years old. They were from a part of Russia near the Polish border and I think the town was sometimes considered Russian and sometimes considered Polish. My grandfather came over first and then sent for the rest of the family. He became a carpenter in the US. They settled in Cleveland, Ohio.
My mother (Dorothy) had four sisters, no brothers. The story goes that she was born premature and her grandmother saved her by wrapping her up in blankets and putting her on the stove to keep warm. This instead of an incubator.
The musical talent comes from this side of the family. My grandmother loved to sing and her oldest daughter, Rose, also loved to sing. Rose's grandson was also a singer and went to New York after college where he appeared in a few shows. Unfortunately, he was one of the first to get AIDS and died quite young.
My mother once played the piano for the silent movies. She played a lot by ear and hit a lot of wrong notes. I started to pick out tunes on the piano at 4 or 5 and was given piano lessons. I wanted to be a concert pianist when I was in elementary school, but realized I would only be competent, not great (did not have the hands or muscle structure for it) and gave up the idea. I did give piano lessons though, even when I was in my teens.
My grandmother suffered from depression. I think it runs in the family. She would stay in her room and not come out sometimes. The housework was left for my mother and her sisters. However, there must have been a lot of socializing too, because my mother became a social butterfly. She always loved parties.
Next time, how my father and mother met and got married.
Love
Grandma
Friday, March 10, 2006 6:11 PM
Observation: Nature can be your sanctuary. I have found getting into the wilds (the real wilds, not a state park that tries to pass for wilderness), is almost a holy experience. If you have lost your religious belief, as I have, you can almost regain it in the majesty of this earth. I hope we manage to keep most of what is left of wild land in this country. and I hope we do not destroy this planet earth. Have been to many other countries and find most have lost the wilderness. Just too many people for this planet. Being in wilderness, almost alone, has been soul refreshing and awesome. Hope you all get to experience it.
History: My father finally got to the US. He and his brother managed to bring his mother, father, one other brother and sister over from Russia. My grandmother wanted my grandfather to get a job, as she saw the men in the US all worked. My grandfather did not want to change. He just wanted to pray. I think that was the end of their relationship. I heard that they did not talk to each other, but went through the kids to pass information or requests. Like at a dinner table one would turn to one of the kids and say tell your father to pass the potatoes. In those days, one did not get a divorce or a "Get" as they said in Yiddish.
My mother (Dorothy) also came from Russia when she was 3 years old, but around the Polish border. Her father (I heard from my Aunt years later) was a horse trainer for the Czarist Army. They lived in Cleveland, Ohio and he was a carpenter there. I remember him always smoking cigars. He used to pay us kids a penny for swatting flies. My mother had four sisters.
You have to understand that both families never spoke a word of Russian. They did speak Yiddish, which I never really learned. They spoke it when they wanted to say something that they did not us kids to know about. I was never good at languages, so never picked it up naturally. They hated Russia where the Czar ruled and at the time, there were Pogroms (killing of Jews for almost sport). The Cossacks and peasants would come through a village and just kill as many Jews as they could.
When they came to this country, they tried to assimilate as fast as possible as they did not want to be considered "Greenhorns" which was a term for immigrants.
More some other time.
Love
Grandma
Sunday, February 26, 2006 4:42 PM
To My Grandchildren:
Observation: Live each day. I know you have heard this a hundred a times, but it is hard to remember. Especially when you are young and think you have all the time in the world. Everyone has told me I never stop and just to relax and do nothing. I am glad now that I did as much as I could because I sure can't do anything now. I'm glad I have seen something of every continent. I am glad I got advanced degrees, glad I worked at things I loved to do, glad I married and had kids and grandkids, glad I learned to play the piano, glad I acted and directed, etc.etc. In other words, glad I lived every day and did not waste it. So, don't waste your life. Live every minute.
History Continued: Sorry for mistake. I was talking about your great, great grandfather and grandmother in Russia. Your great, great grandfather (aside from being a rabbi or teacher) was also a revolutionary (not communist) who hid people who were running from the Czarist regime. There is an old story I heard (don't know if it is true) that he helped print a paper which was given out in the synagog. That was the center of social life also. It was revolutionary. Someone on lookout spotted the Cozaks coming and called out to everyone. When the soldiers got there, there was not a paper in sight. Everyone had eaten them. Good story though.
Your great, great grandmother sent your great grandfather (Jim Brindze) to America when he was 13. He came with a brother who was 18. She sent the boys (only had enough money for two) because her husband was not good at making money, many men came and it took so long to save for the rest of the family they would meet another woman and start another family and leave the original family in Russia, and boys if they were taken in the army (against their will) would never be seen again because it was for life. So my father, your great grandfather arrived in North America at 13. He did not know English and he and his brother were sent to Canada because there was a quota here. They had to wait for their number to come up.
While in Canada, they learned English and worked. My father worked as a streetcar conductor because he could count money fast. He was big for his age and told them he was 18.
That's all for now.
Love you
Grandma
We recieved 9 Bubbas Mintzes from our mother and our family would like to share them here. I will place one each month for all to enjoy, Kitty
Sunday, February 19, 2006 8:58 PM
To my grandchildren:
I have decided that since I am housebound and have plenty of time, I should make contact with you guys and give a little past history about our family as well as what small amount of knowledge or wisdom I have acquired in my lifetime. This should keep me out of great deal of trouble for a while. I hope you email me every once in a while to make comments or ask questions. I will keep these emails very short.
Just know I adore all of you and think you are the most wonderful grandchildren in history. I love all of you very much.
Observation #1. A tender, loving touch is absolutely essential to each and every baby born into this world. Continually loving touches throughout your life (both given and taken) are essential to your mental health and how you feel about yourself. Without this, at the beginning of life, you may make all the wrong choices trying to get it. Hey guys, this is a lot different than lust or other touching. My first memory of this kind of touch for myself was not until I was in my 30's. Does that seem wierd? Unfortunately, it is true. However, I hope I managed to break that spell from my family and give some of this to some of my own children.
Family HIstory: Your great grandfather James Brindze was born in Beditchev, Russia. I thought the village had been wiped out in WWll, but found it still exists. He was born in 1900. His father was a red haired rabbi. Your Great Great Grandmother said he was very jealous when your great grandfather and his brothers brought young men home later in life. The Russian part was before the Russian Revolution. Will continue next time.
Love
Grandma
AKA Lifer -
Today we won’t use the words funeral or memorial because our mother would not have one. This instead is a celebration of life. During the time she was in the hospital last April many of you stopped by to remind her of her special energy and what her life and loves were. Many times along this journey I really wondered if that was right. Stories and laughter were shared during a time in my life that was like no other. I worried how sad this may be making her seeing all these friends and loved ones knowing she could not participate in the discussions. After a lot of reflection I feel it was right for her because she needed to know that everyone would be ok, and of course, that the play was ready to open. The show must go on. I realized that before she slipped away she and my family needed this reminder that we promised not to mourn too very long and to get on with the business of celebrating her life and remembering her laughter and convictions. This is what we are here today to do. Celebrate the life of a very energetic, passionate, free spirit. Thank you all for your calls, cards, visits and love you shared to our mother, our father Jack and our family. The outpouring of affection from this circle of friends has been amazing and comforting.
You all knew our mother in her retirement stage of life. Her retirement was more active than most others’ working and child raising years. She never stopped. I would like to take a moment to share with you a bit further back to remember with me who she is and where she came from.
Mom was a survivor. I am not talking about cancer. I am talking about life. She was a child of depression. She married young and survived the birth of 4 children. She also survived each of us as teenagers; my sister Molly and her independence, Nina and her boyfriends, my brother Mark, well, hmmm ……….as I heard it from Mom, once he passed the age of two he was perfect and never caused problems………and then there was me. As my mother would say, I was incorrigible in every way. I was told this at the sprite age of 13 and did not know what it meant. My mother, forever the teacher, told me to look it up in a dictionary, which I DID and she was right. Then she continued to survive divorce during an era that did not approve of divorce. She was a pioneer in the world of women’s liberation. Now here is where the survivor also becomes lucky. She survived 35 years of marriage to my father Jack. She fell in love with this man who was a conservative republican, Nixon supporting and yes even a little chauvinistic. She sweet talked him into a antiwar, gore supporting, conservationist, and a man who felt women (or at least our mother) were equals. She took him around the world with her on every adventure. No one else would have done it, and because of her strength she was rewarded with as she wrote in her Bubba Mintzes ….. love from a man of her equal??
We were fortunate to receive 9 Bubba Mintzes from February of 2006 to January of 2007.. Loosely translated Bubbas Mintzes means Grandmas memories. They were written for her grand children who she loved, adored and cherished. They included 2 sections. History and Observation. Since we are celebrating her life, we are celebrating her observations, beliefs and passions. Luckily in her own words I can share with you a few of these beliefs in their abbreviated form.
Observations by Bea Morrow. A tender, loving touch is absolutely essential to each and every baby born into this world. Continual loving touches throughout your life (both given and taken) are essential to your mental health and hey guys, this is a lot different than lust.
Live each day. Everyone has told me I never stop and just to relax and do nothing. I am glad now that I did as much as I could.
Nature can be your sanctuary. I have found getting into the wilds (the real wilds, not a state park that tries to pass for wilderness), is almost a holy experience. I hope you all get to experience it.
What would we do without our artists, performers, writers, musicians, etc.? What would life be like without these people who take us out of ourselves for a short period of time and show us other ways of living and feeling? Life would probably be dull.
Going to another geographical place is the only way to really know it. You can read about cities, states, countries, etc. in books, but the actual "gestalt (a psychological term, look it up) will not be yours until you are there.
Change is the only absolute. Everything is in a constant mode of change not only in the universe, but in our emotional lives as well. Sooooo, can you count on anything being the same always? Nope. Wait a minute, it will change, is the rule
(This is one of my favorites) You do not have the power to change anyone. Only they have the power to change themselves. This is kind of an ego thing. Wanting to change someone. When you are parents, it is important to understand that there is a difference between such things as "mother love" and "smother love". The only one who should give us "unconditional love" is our dog. (Mom obviously wanted us to believe that she “motivated” Jack to change while we all knew SHE changed him).
Our mother was as passionate about her family as she was of everything else in life. She loved her family. She could find something in each an every child, daughter in law, son in law, grandchild and great grandchild to praise and adore. Well, especially the grandchildren. No matter how one would screw up she would find the positive quality that would lead him or her through life. Every grandchild went on an adventure with she and Grandpa Jack around the age of eight, and although they may complain what a tough and cheap grandmother she was, they all knew her passions. This was her intent. She hoped they would all gain a love of the planet, a desire to travel and an appreciation of the arts. That was to be her gift and legacy to them. They may have been hoping for an X box 360 but as they grow older, some into their 30’s now, they will finally appreciate the gift she gave.
At one point I started a book about my mother and our relationship called “email”. We corresponded by email 90% of the time. For my book I decided to research my brother, sisters, nephews and sons opinion of her. Again by email simply titled “Need a Response”. The instructions were to give a title for Mom, a one word description, and tell me why. Here are the responses I received
Mother - for the obvious reasons.
Director - since she enjoys calling the shots.
Tenacious - the first word that comes to my mind
Resilient - no matter what cards she was dealt she has always managed to turn it into a winning hand.
Compassionate - she deeply cares about the things that affect us all. Not just herself.
Survivor – every step of her life was a challenge and she thrived on challenges.
Important - because of all that she meant to me through the years.
My number one fan - no one has a laugh better than hers. Her crazy cackle is the most beautiful sound in the world.
Amazing - she played music, acted, directed and she was always there for me.
Passionate -she is passionate in life, in her pursuit of music and a cleaner environment, and in her arguments to the waiter because the soup was cold. She is passionate in holding her family together and ensuring that she defeats this disease.
I even asked mom to give a response and her response was really the total accumulation of what all of us had said;
Lifer - because I try to live and give to life as much as I can.
When our mother was fighting cancer I started calling instead. Just so she could hear my voice and I hers. Email was so black and white, short and sweet. I couldn’t tell how she really felt that day in email since she was so very good at hiding her illness. On the phone though I could hear how she breathed and what she said about the day to know if it was a good or bad day. I felt guilty because I was not there and angry because she was so strong she would say not to come. There are times that I reach for the phone to call her because either something great is about to happen or it has been a hard day. I am shocked and saddened to realize that she is not there to call. I actually hope the day will not come when I DON’T try to make that phone call, because now on those days I dial my sister Molly, Nina, Mark and my Aunt Jean. I think our mother is pleased that we are all very attached to each other and a part of her can be seen in each of us. Molly the mother and director, Nina the tenacious, Mark the compassionate and I, the survivor who also thrives on challenges, like getting up here today.
Thank you all for joining us in our celebration of a most extraordinary women who saw humor in everything, was amazing, passionate, important to us all and gave to life and lived life as much as she could. Bea Morrow aka Lifer.
postscript: Nothing the heart gives away is gone.... it lives in the hearts of others. Always remembered. Always in our hearts. I love you Mom
XXXOOO Kitty
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