The Overwhelmingness of it all

These are definitely some complicated times. In trying to figure out why I am not sleeping, feel totally exhausted all the time (yes, those are probably related...) and feel like my brain hurts, I realize that a lot of what I am feeling is Overwhelmingness (did I make up that word?).

Some of what I feel I recognize from the first month of the school year. Three kids in three different grades and with three different schedules means that it takes weeks to get used to the weekly schedule. Which days to make lunches for whom. When to pick up which kid. Which days I have time to cook dinner and which days we have to have leftovers (or fish sticks and pasta...). All of that takes a long time to embed itself in my brain. We call it routine.

Yet every single day right now is a different schedule, there is no routine, and this is impossible to embed in my brain. Koby has class meetings twice a week and other optional activities on Zoom twice a day (he couldn't be less interested in any of it, and I'm fine with that, but I want to keep offering it in case he changes his mind or misses his friends and teachers...). Elie has a book group that a parent organized every day and twice a week with teachers (not the same days each week) plus optional after-care activities on Zoom. Samara also has two class meetings per week plus a small group meeting once a week. She then has a VERY CLEAR guide of what to do during the day (she's doing awesome with this stuff).

So every morning I go through the day and set alarms in my phone. For example: 9:28 get ready for Koby's class meeting. 9:58 get ready for Elie's book group. 10:28, walk away from Elie's book group to set up Samara in her room with her class. 10:58 put movie/show on for kids so I can have a work call in peace then do some work. 3:43 set up after care activity. It's not a LOT, but it is multiple new things to be on top of on a daily basis.

Plus I'm constantly putting a lot of energy into food. We haven't yet gone to the store (I was legit crazy about germ stuff before this - I am not sure I can handle it, even though I recognize we are a low risk group), which means ordering groceries with a 5 day delivery lag then putting them in quarantine for 3 days upon arrival, so I have to be 8 days ahead of what we need PLUS it has taken up to four days to secure a delivery window, so this is up to 12 days. The fam has been mostly really flexible, and I am often making something like soup or lentils or rice and beans for me and Matt and just giving the kids grilled cheese, fajitas, fish sticks, pasta, waffles, etc plus side roasted and fresh veggies - items which require an argument to try/eat are mostly off their menu. Kids are eating the same nutritional value as normal (which is generally limited for Samara in normal times...) but without the fights. But this takes a lot of time and energy to sort out. Space in my brain.

And Passover is a whole additional level - I made chicken soup and matzah balls, hard boiled eggs, chicken, brussel sprouts, sweet potatoes, asparagus, fresh veggies and cake. Lots of planning in advance and lots of time - while also managing the kids' schedules and working (admittedly not all that much but still need to find time for it). Plus we now have the rest of passover. Can we make it? We may actually run out of K for P food, and I have to decide if I care.

Another overwhelmingness feeling comes from the outside world. As much as I can focus on my family and our survival, there is the reality of this disease, our healthcare system, friends and family who are directly impacted by the disease itself (not just the social distancing). When I have moments of happy with my family, it will randomly hit me, and I feel guilty not thinking about it all the time, when it's so many people's realities. But I can't. It's too much - so I let myself think about it sometimes rather than always.

I'll be honest. We did well when there were few/no obligations for the kids. Our days followed their interests (see previous post). It's also hard to spend so much energy to get them online when I don't believe my kids are getting much out of it. Samara enjoys meeting with her class and is learning about computers and some content, and she can navigate through her daily suggested plan BY HER SELF. The boys require me to sit with them the entire time they're at the computer, or at least be in the same room and be paying some attention to it.

I believe the boys (and Samara) get MUCH more out of being outside or playing. My kids are amazingly self-sufficient/entertaining, and they come up with some incredibly creative things, utilizing materials in cool ways, working together as a group, etc. They play games together which include math and a bit of reading plus turn-taking, and other social elements. They build with lego at an alarming rate and make some pretty cool things - engineering? I probably should be sitting and reading with them (especially Elie) a bit more, but generally I believe my kids, at their young ages, will be fine without consistent school and being in front of a computer for hours a day.

And I realized that for my mental health I need to continue to do things that make me happy - even when it seems like I have no time to do the things that I "have to" do. I have been playing games with friends and family online. We have a weekly Michigania games night that causes a lot of laughs and happiness. I have been boggling separately with my brother, uncle and dad and playing Settlers of Catan with cousins, brother and friends. Games make me incredibly happy.

Making food for people makes me happy. There is very limited capacity for this right now, but I have been able to order groceries for an old woman in our community - and I brought her a portion of our seder dinner. I had two friends who love my chicken soup with matza balls, and I brought a limited amount to them for Passover. Given that we don't have much extra food and can't get it quickly (see above), and that sharing food is potentially spreading Covid, this isn't super possible right now. I'm doing just a little of it, and that makes me happy.

Being outside makes me happy. The kids and I have been going for bike rides nearly every day - and they almost always choose to go to Nancy and David's house (they leave out lollipops for my kids on their porch and come and say hi from a distance - definitely both factors leading to this as their #1 destination), which also makes me happy. Playing sports with my kids outside also makes me happy - we have played a lot of 21 and H-O-R-S-E (Elie is getting pretty good at basketball!). Koby is amazing at throwing a frisbee - even for 15 year old (he's 4). Samara has set up a horse jumping course in our front yard and developed a fun game of "roll down the driveway sitting on a skateboard" which are fun to watch.

Seeing friends makes me happy. This is obviously VERY limited right now, but we live on a giant field that is the central point of our neighborhood (and our world). Many of our friends end up outside of our house at some point during the week, and we have said many hellos across the street - which makes me/us SUPER happy.

The biggest overwhelmingness part is the unknown of it all - how long will this last? how many people will die? how many people in my life will die? what will change in our everyday life when we get out of our houses? how can our economy survive? small businesses? how can our broken country and government support so many unemployed people in crisis? what will we miss that really matters a lot to us (um...camp...family...)? will the kids go to school this year (prob not)? next year? will life ever be as it was?

So, I'm trying to continue to focus on hovering above the reality of life (see previous post), though that is more complicated given the "school" obligations. I'm trying to continue to do things that make me happy. I'm trying to live day to day and not think about not going to Michigania or kids not going to summer camp or not seeing our family for MONTHS. A few months ago we would have thought that doing Passover alone would be so awful and hard, and now we have done that. We can handle more than we think we can - we just have to take it day by day. And we can get through this.

Visiting Nancy and David

Harry Potter shadow tracing and coloring

Samara reading #5 (on the heat vent, her favorite spot)

Showing Savta something

Samara on a Zoom call with her class

Painting rocks

Amazing moon rising over the field. Note the Christmas tree that they turned back on on Parker "because the world needed more light right now."

Seder prep

Seder with Fran, Tom, Mike, Jess and Dan last night

None of my videos will load. They're so entertaining. I wish I could share.

Permission to Survive and Let Go

I have given myself permission to survive.

We are playing a lot. We have a really rough - meaning flexible - schedule of play, outside, lunch, music (~1pm), play, clean/chores, outside, dinner (~5:15), bath/screen time, bed (7 for the boys, 8 for Samara). Thank god our neighbors gave us bins of lego last summer. The kids are building some amazing things. We have enough toys, puzzles and crafts to last us months. Nothing new - things that sit on shelves while we're running with our lives. We have a jar of ideas of "things to do" to pick when we need them.

I am not worried about my kids learning. They are learning - just not the same way or things that they would learn in school.

I know that all kids have different needs. Some need structure. Some thrive without it. I also know that at different ages, the social needs and needs for stimulation are totally different. My kids are at a sweet age where they are very happy to chill and play for hours and days at a time. I also understand that moms and dads have varying needs for structure and control. I'm usually one with a whole big need for control - but I'm trying to just. let. go.

As part of that, I have given myself permission to not know everything.

I usually listen to NPR and podcasts all day, read a whole lot of New York Times, check a lot of news sources on Twitter and am fairly informed about what's going on. I am one of the few that usually finds facebook a happy space where I can see friends and their lives. I usually find it a place to de-stress and fill my heart.

Right now people's anxieties, articles they're posting and other things are stressing me out - so I have been on facebook for about five minutes a day, until I see something that makes my heart pound, and then I turn it off.

I haven't opened Twitter since the weekend.

I read the New York Times headlines and that's it. I cannot do much to help the situation, and I find it so incredibly stressful to read about shortages of supplies, dying people and a whole world that is out of control.

I know that when I read that stuff I am short with my family, I feel paralyzed, I don't sleep and I can't function well. My main goal right now is to do my part by staying home - and to keep my home and my family in peace. I can do that by checking out, slowing my brain, playing with my kids, doing a puzzle, baking, going outside as much as we can - and just surviving.

I have lots of strengths - but being around sickness and germs is not one of them. I am awake at night in the midst of the summer worrying about the stomach bug. I'm the crazy one that my kids' friends know will make them drop everything, take off shoes and go immediately to wash hands upon arrival at our house. And then again before eating - even if they hare barely played with anything. I am USUALLY crazy about this stuff.

So what can I do to help? I have decided that I can't do much. I am not the person who is going to volunteer to do things out of the house or go shopping for anyone. However I am able to do a challah delivery (I think I can handle Rosenfelds - order and pay online and then just pick up) and I can order groceries online and deliver them from my house to someone else's doorstep. That's about all I can do (until we know where we can donate resources) - other than giving you permission also TO JUST SURVIVE RIGHT NOW.

Zoom all with the Tzrif - our what's app group from Camp Ramah in Canada 1990s

24 hours into a 1000 piece puzzle

lunch with mo willems (pretty cool to have access to him)

Koby's corona virus

Elie's guys playing "pass the corona virus" while the rest of the world plays "don't pass the corona virus"

Team puzzle

Bed Rest and the Pandemic (and a bit more)

These are some weird times. The world, and our life, is shut down. But not completely. I'm a very black and white person, extremely uncomfortable in the gray. I believe that's my biggest fault as a person, as it's hard for me to manage when expectations are not clear, things change at the last minute, etc. But here we are...

I have felt similar things twice in my life. After 9-11 I remember feeling so unsure of what the future will bring. It was the only other time I remember life shutting down - everything closed, and while we now know that things opened up again and classes continued (I was in grad school), etc. after a few days or weeks (though obviously life felt very different and many people lost those they love), at the time we had no idea what the next few days/weeks/months would bring. It shook our reality and brought and unknown future.

The other time was when I was on bedrest when pregnant with Elie. I didn't know how long it would be, though I knew it would end at some point, I didn't know when. I couldn't allow myself to think too much about the future, because I didn't know if the baby would make it - would we have a new baby, two kids, four people in our family? Or would I have a huge loss to deal with and have one child in our family? I couldn't think about anything in the future, because it would be so different if the baby made it or not. I had to sort of suspend time and my existence within it. I watched all of Downton Abbey, I played Ruzzle (like Boggle on the ipod), and I just existed. I couldn't read at the time - though I usually read a book a week, I couldn't focus. I had a few visitors and a few friends who called from abroad regularly, I had a routine of going to get shots twice a week and a latte at the Starbucks at the hospital that was a sad highlight of my life at the time - and that was it. I fully checked out.

But the difference there was that life went on around me. Samara went to school. Matt went to work. I could sit and look out of our 7th floor window and see life happening as usual outside City Square Residence. Now, all expectations of the (near) future must be suspended as was on bed rest, but stress is super high because people ARE dying, the virus is so unknown and seems to be spreading SO easily. We just don't know where this will lead - we don't know how to stay away from it - we don't even know who HAS it because tests have been so unavailable. Regular logic such as having tests available so we KNOW WHO HAS TO BE ISOLATED is not relevant here, which is so confusing. We know that people who were infected in China were complete isolated. Here people who MAY be infected are at home (infecting everyone else in their home). And life for the rest of us is most definitely NOT happening.

Schools are closed indefinitely (right now until 6 April). That's a lot of time with my kids.

Will my kindergartener now and my incoming kindergartener have Kindergarten Soccer in the Spring?

Will we go to Michigania - most of the people in our family's favorite week of the year (and Samara's "bud" every night in Rose, Bud, Thorn)? Will overnight camp happen?

How will we celebrate Passover? Can we drive straight through to Michigan if we're sure we're not sick and neither are our parents? Is that just stupid?

What will happen with all of the families who survive by working hourly jobs that are no longer happening?

What will happen with the families who have two full-time working parents and young children at home. It seems like a bad idea to have grandparents watch kids, babysitters bring in outside germs - there is only so much time you can get to work in this situation. Will the "bosses" agree to require a bit less? Who will pay? Where will the funding for all of the NGO's come from if they're not meeting their deliverables?

What about kids who are at home with grown ups who do not treat them well. What kind of lasting effect will this have on them? Ugh - this one feels so stressful.

When will this end?

And what are we doing this for? It does seem like it will flatten the curve, but if we are promoting social distancing, can we just STOP the curve - promote a sharp drop? Like at what point will we get back to life and the virus will not be spreading? It has to be eradicated for that to happen - or we will just be back at square one, right? Am I missing something?

On the other hand, I am EXTREMELY grateful for so many things. We live on a dead-end street on a large field. We have a beautiful lake a five-minute walk away. We have a great trail about .75 miles away, and it's a perfect 1.5 mile loop. We can drive to other hikes. We have resources, and Matt's work will continue (mine might not, but that's ok right now). My kids are healthy and super independent. My kids get along. My kids are at a sweet-spot age to spend time with their parents. They still like us. Thank god we do not have ongoing health issues. We finished fixing up our house and got a new furnace two weeks ago. My work is light and flexible, and while Matt's work is INSANE because the markets are a mess, I can totally spend time with the kids. I am so thankful I don't have a baby.

Koby's family selfie on the loop hike near our house in Cold Spring Park on Saturday

Watching a friend's Bar Mitzvah on Saturday, streaming at our temple (with Koby)

Biking on our street yesterday (see my shadow?)

I cut these all up and put the right two columns in a mason jar - we will pick one in the am and one in the afternoon (if we're not outside). The left column is ideas for PE - in a different mason jar.

Very rough outline of our day. Today we are in Free Play (Koby is a waiter and bringing all of us food, Elie is organizing all of the food on the kitchen table, and Samara is building a magnatile house for a bunch of animals). Outside soon and then piano on facetime at 11.

Full list of dinners I am prepared to make (with a side veggie for some/most) - kids can choose most days:

Chili (made last night)

Lasagna

Mac n cheese

Fajitas

Baguette grilled cheese (made last night)

Buttermilk pancakes

Waffles

Shakshuka

Hot dogs

Schnitzel

Pasta w pesto

Pizza

Empty sushi

Fish sticks

Rice and beans

Tortellini

Fake chicken nuggets 

Full disclosure I'm not up with the news. I have given myself permission to exist without knowing everything there is to know. I'm on facebook for a few minutes each day to see friend's cute kids and funny/happy things, but I shut it off when I see a stressful article posted, I am not on twitter and not looking at anything else right now.

Hang in there and stay healthy if you're reading this. Virtual hugs to all.

Thanksgiving of a Different Flavor

If we had gotten to our flight in time and not been delayed 3 hrs until midnight - dayenu!

If we had arrived after midnight and not puked all over the airport - dayenu!

If we had puked all over the airport but not puked all over my parents’ house - dayenu!

If we had puked all over my parents’ house but not broke the plumbing - dayenu!

If we had broke the plumbing but not backed up the basement - dayenu!

If we had backed up the basement and gotten to sleep before 4 am - dayenu!

If we had slept and had internet to occupy the kids - dayenu!

The plumbing was fixed on Thursday. The internet was also fixed on Thursday. The puking stopped until Friday night and then again today (WTF - STOP PUKING). We saw no cousins or relatives beyond the immediate parents and 2 of 3 brothers. We did not eat Thanksgiving dinner. It was a SUPER disappointing Thanksgiving - and those tickets were not cheap...to sit around my parents' house for five days...

BUT...
If we had landed safely and my parents hadn't dropped EVERYTHING and helped us survive - dayenu!

If my parents had dropped everything but not had a super nice Friendsgiving (with all the satisfying elements of Thanksgiving) with our awesome neighborhood community the weekend before - dayenu!

If we had a super nice Friendsgiving but not had amazing neighbors to shovel our walk while we were gone - dayenu!

If we had amazing neighbors shovel our walk but not had other amazing neighbors buy us essential groceries - dayenu!

If we had other amazing neighbors buy us essential groceries but we didn't have friends to walk or drive my kids home today or watch them until I could get them after going to the doctor with the sickster
- dayenu!

So all in all, these last five days have SUCKED, but we have an amazing community and people around us, and for THAT I am Thankful.

My Grandpa

My Grandpa passed away last week after living a very long and full life. His body had served him well, helping him to survive inhumane conditions during the German occupation of Poland during World War II, from 1939-1945. His body gave him the power to sing with the most booming, echoing voice from when he was a little boy until a couple of weeks before he died. (See the video below which barely captures it, from Hanukkah 2015). His body allowed him to play tennis until nearly 90 years old and have an active life until a stroke about a year and a half ago. Then, last Wednesday, it simply finished. His insides stopped working as they should. His breaths got farther and farther apart, and his body stopped living. At that moment he was literally surrounded by all 3 of his kids, my mom, me, my uncle, cousin, and Denise, his caring aid. He had waited for my Grandma to go and get dinner. She had literally been by his side nearly constantly for 71 years.

His life story is so insane - we should never forget what he and others at the time went through, because they were Jewish. The responsibility to keep his story alive feels very heavy, as there are fewer survivors left, including my Grandma, and their life stories are feeling farther and farther away from our current reality. Will my kids understand what it meant to be a Holocaust Survivor?

My grandparents' histories are a huge part of my identity and its formation. I have always felt the responsibility to LIVE as a Jew, given what happened to the rest of their families, and this has impacted my commitment to Jewish law (stronger at some times than others...), my choice of an observant Jewish summer camp, my major in college of Hebrew and Jewish Cultural studies and also many years of professional work in the Jewish community.

My Grandpa told stories constantly. We would joke about who had the best endurance to sit through hours and hours of stories. I did well in the 80s and 90s, and Matt took over in the '00s. He told us every detail we would listen to. Some of his stories were told through the lens of Coochie Boy, but they were all crazy details about what he had lived through during the Holocaust. Grandma NEVER talked about it. She would walk away when he started telling stories, and it was clear from when I was little, never to bring it up with her or ask her questions.

While studying at Hebrew University my junior year of college, in 1998, I decided to join a group trip on the March of the Living, where you go to Poland and learn about the Holocaust. I told my grandma on the phone that I was doing this, and she said, "Why would you go when it's so cold? Let's go together, in the summer." What? Ok...

(My Grandpa, mom and me by the front door of my Grandpa's apartment building in Czestochowa. My grandma, our guide, my uncle Mark, Mare and Kenny are on the street, on the right)

I did not go on the March of the Living, and two years later my mom had organized a trip to Budapest, Muncach (where my grandma is from), Cracow, Czestochowa (where my grandpa is from) including nearby Auschwitz (where my grandma was sent in 1944), and then Prague. My entire family went, along with my aunt and uncle and grandparents, and we saw the houses the lived in growing up - both of them. We saw my grandma's school and my grandpa's family's store. They told us stories after stories - both of them - and they saw their current life, in retirement in Florida with three successful children, 8 lovely (if I do say so myself) grandchildren - juxtaposed to their childhood homes that they had left with so much pain and suffering. I have thought of that trip so often in the years since, as this was my family's history, yet that life is so far away from what they/we have now. It was also one of our last family trips before my little brother died.

(my Grandpa, my dad and Kenny in Budapest - I believe it's Budapest)

Since I became an adult, we visited Florida nearly every year - even when we lived in Singapore - and saw my grandparents as much as we could. Sometimes we were also able to see them in Florida. Last year, they moved up to Michigan so they could be near their three kids as my grandpa's health had declined with his stroke.

We will miss my Grandpa, my kids' great-grandpa. Life already feels different without him.

Rabbi Joey Krakoff delivered an amazing Eulogy at his funeral last Friday. I have pasted it below, with his permission. What a life story.

I have also pasted below that the short remarks I shared at his funeral.

Hanukkah 2015

Cantor Joseph Birnholtz Eulogy; February 1, 2019
Dorfman Chapel/Clover Hill Park Cemetery
Rabbi Joseph H. Krakoff

Cantor Joe Birnholtz was a self made man who successfully raised himself up from the depths of evil perpetuated against him by the Nazis.  Through unwavering perseverance, a propensity for working hard, an intrinsic talent in music and art and a profound love of his Jewish identity, Joe created a truly beautiful life for himself and his beloved family.

Born in Czesktochowa, Poland- close to the German border- Joe was the devoted son of Bernard (Baruch Pinchas) and Miriam (Mindele) and the dear youngest brother of Chaim, Manya, Yaakov, Dovid, Menachem and his twin Doris- and I note that there was a significant span of twenty-two years between Chaim and Joe.

By his own account, Joe’s earliest childhood years were very happy- his parents were in the clothing business for many, many years and they owned both a department store and an apartment house.  Bernard and Miriam had a lot of people working for them and did quite well for themselves.  The family was very cultured and Joe grew up speaking Polish and Yiddish, taking piano and showing an early interest in the opera.  Joe so enjoyed going to shul with his father every Shabbat and when it was discovered that he had a melodic, strong voice- Joe began studying with the Cantor.  At just five years old, they would literally put Joe up on a chair in the synagogue and watch him sing- and Joe continually recalled how much he loved those days.

Sadly, this joyful, idyllic childhood changed rather suddenly on September 1, 1939- the war broke out, his town was invaded and everyone was forced to live in a ghetto.  Soon after, the Germans gave an order for everyone to take their belongings, weighing no more than fifteen pounds at most, go outside in the streets and line up. 

Joe’s parents gave him a backpack for his clothing and to put jewelry including gold chains, watches and rings to sell for bread when he got hungry.  Joe made it through the segregation line with his parents and sister Doris but then, all of a sudden, a German SS officer pulled Joe away from his parents and demanded he throw is jewelry in a suitcase on the ground or be shot.  Joe’s parents wee sent to Treblinka, two of his brothers were killed and Joe was taken to a Labor Camp in Czesktochowa with his pajamas being Joe’s sole remaining possession. 

From 1940-1945 Joe did all he could to stay alive, but many days he really thought it would be his last one on earth.  In the work camp there were beatings every day.  He had to walk to work during the winter months with snow on the ground, about five miles each way with no socks, wooden shoes and just rags for clothes- no sweater, no coat, no hat- Joe almost froze to death. 

Joe worked at an airport where they had to dig long lines of ditches in the frozen ground about five feet deep and fourteen inches long to install narrow pipes for water drainage.  They also had to run around the entire airport repeatedly in the snow to crush it down so the planes could land.  A usual workday was often 5am to 6pm and the Jews were not allowed to talk to each other while working or they would be instantly beaten or shot dead.

At the HASAG camp, Joe also described the interminable work of building barracks and machine shops, loading cement, work with heavy hammers and air compressors, cleaning empty bullet shelves and shoveling coal from the trains which got in his nose, ears and eyes- and if the train was not fully unloaded by 5pm, they would be shot. 

It was on the night of January 16, 1945 that Joe was liberated by the Russian Army after which he joined a kibbutz in Poland because his brother Chaim wanted him to get a solid education, which included learning math, history and religion and studying opera.  It was during this time that Chaim taught Joe how to walk on the sidewalk because until then- all the Jews were forced to walk in the street like a cow. Chaim also took Joe to a restaurant and showed him how to properly hold a spoon and how to eat with the acceptable table manners. 

On May 12, 1947 Joe arrived in America on a ship called the ‘Marina, Marina’.  As the story goes, Joe’s sister Doris was in line right in front of him at Ellis Island where she single-handedly decided to make herself a year younger by saying she was born in 1926 instead of 1925.  So as a twin, Joe knew he had to follow-suit exactly- and he made his birthday February 23, 1926 - which was fine at the time… although later in life- this split second decision cheated him out of an extra year of social security.

Now here is where the story gets significantly better.  From New York, Joe came to Detroit and began attending evening classes to learn English readying himself to become an American citizen.  And this is where Joe met his beloved Edith, who sat in front of him and Joe loved playing with her hair.

Edith, you recalled how you and Joe were the first ones in school to get engaged and it actually came as a huge surprise- to both of you! 

At a gathering of students during the Thanksgiving holiday, the women came out of the kitchen where the men were standing around asking Joe what he thought of you.  When he said he thought you were nice, without warning, the two of you heard the following words: "Lets everybody get up, drink a ‘l’chaim’ and say 'mazel tov’ to the couple that just got engaged--Edith and Joe."  Neither of you knew what to say but Joe said ok and so did you- deciding to go with it.  And just like that, you were actually engaged.  You were married a few months later on March 6, 1948 at a small shul on 12th Street.  Joe even got one day off for a honeymoon.  Ten months later Sandy was born at the rest is history.
The two of you shared so many special interests throughout the years- going to the theatre, having season tickets to the opera, playing cards and singles tennis until he was 89 years old- even in the midst of the noon heat in Florida- albeit the sign on the court read that singles was not allowed between 10am-4pm.  Perhaps the only thing you did not do together was play pool- a game he took up when he turned 75 and played religiously even after his stroke at age 92.

Edith, an example of your closeness was that you and Joe were actually shared one pair of reading glasses.  And you knew what he liked to eat, so whenever meal time came around, he would invariably say: Edith, what do I want to eat?”  When you would tell him, he would always be so grateful.  You sang in the choir with him and you especially looked forward to the duets you would perform together.   Whatever it was you never said no to him, he always wanted you by his side and even if it was only to watch television- Joe was always the most content when he was holding your hand.

When Joe first came to Detroit, he used his Polish to make connections in Hamtramack.  Among the earliest opportunities that came Joe’s way was to wash windows- but they were up on the 22nd floor- and Joe was clear that he did not come to America to fall to his death- so he understandably turned that job down.  Then, Joe was given the opportunity to paint a sign on a truck.  Joe painted with watercolors only to discover that his beautiful work quickly washed off in the rain.  It was only a minor setback, as Joe utilized his creativity, artistic talent and steady hand to meticulously craft window signs for stores.  Joe was proud of how he once decorated a bar in New Boston for Christmas and one year, he even won a prize for the best Christmas display at Northland- the most perfect recognition for a nice Jewish boy who was also a Cantor.

In the realm of window trimming, Joe dressed mannequins, using his great sense of fashion to decide what clothes to put on them.  And this meant that not only was his basement used for silk screening signs but it also held the random body parts for countless mannequins.

Joe liked to stay busy all the time so while working as an artist, Joe took a job at B’nai Moshe when he was hired by Cantor Katzman to be a soloist.  He sang with several Cantors including Cantor Louis Klein who taught him the ins and outs of being a full-fledged Cantor.  At first, Joe would play the piano, sing in the choir on the holidays and give recitals.  Before long though, he started traveling to other cities each year to conduct Seders and High Holy Day services. 

Joe’s first part-time job as a Cantor was in a rented church in Livonia where he helped cover all of the crosses and lead services in the basement. 

Then, Joe got a steady position for five years at Gemilus Chasadim a German synagogue on Greenfield between Seven and Eight Mile.  Joe also worked at Beth Aaaron with Rabbi Gorrelick after Hazzan David Bagley left. 
It was in 1982 that Cantor Birnholtz relocated with Edith to Louisville after he was hired for the job on the spot- much to the surprise of Mark who came home from college and found out that his parent’s had moved from Michigan.  Joe worked there for thirteen years until he retired for the first time in 1995 and moved to Florida.  But in the realm of shul hopping, Joe and Edith found an upstart Temple in a shopping mall in Boynton Beach.  When the rabbi heard how Joe’s voice was clear and booming, the Rabbi hired Joe right away and he became their inaugural Cantor until 2005.

Throughout the years, Joe wrote and arranged music and trained hundreds and hundreds of Bnai Mitzvah students who loved him and in whom Joe took such great pride in their accomplishments.  For all that Joe achieved in his career, he was aptly honored by the Jewish Theological Seminary with a Doctor of Music degree.

And while that recognition was very special, there was nothing more special than being the dear father and father in law of Sandy (Sue), Marilyn (Michael), Mark (Paula), loving grandfather of Jeremy, Melanie (Matt), Bryan (Mandy), Ashley (Craig), Jordan, Matt and Eric and the late Kenny of blessed memory and adoring great-grandfather of Samara, Elie, Koby, Sydney, Adelyne and Harrison.

As a father, he looked forward to taking you on family vacations and you went to New York once a year.  You loved his playfulness and how he taught you everything from how to drive to the fundamentals of tennis and Ping-Pong including how to perform his famous slice shot. 

Speaking of Ping- Pong, he made you a table out of plywood- but you could never put your hands down on the table because it was anchored on a pair of sawhorses and if you leaned on it, it could definitely flip up and injure you. 

Truth be told, plywood was one of Joe’s favorite materials to use- and out of it he built a giant Hanukkah menorah- that he covered with foil and special Christmas lights.  Whatever you wanted or could think of, your dad would happily create it for you.  He was a devoted father and father in law who always wanted the best for his family.

Joe loved to play chess with his grandchildren and draw with his great grandchildren- Joe would just find a random napkin and start drawing or sketching and his pen drawings of his years in Poland were so powerful and thought provoking.  All of you at one point heard his stories of Coochie boy that were admittedly so scary you couldn’t sleep for hours afterward.  You loved when he made his funny face and looked forward to making funny faces back at him.

When you were babies, he would take off his ring, watch and glasses- put them in his pocket- so as not to scratch you until they fell out of his pocket and well, did scratch you! 
As you got older he would excitedly call you up to the bimah to recite Ashrei- and then parade you around and show you off to congregants and friends.  He treasured all of you and his concern was truly for your safety and your happiness.

Friends, Joe was a survivor who by celebrating his Jewish identity and clinging to the traditions of Jews throughout the generations- built a wonderful new life here in America.  In Joe’s words:  “in the concentration camp many times we would ask: "Where is God?" We used to question.  But I am proud to be Jewish and really believe that God saved me because there were so many times I could have been shot. 
I don't know why God saved me.  My sister told me that my zeyde was a very pious, righteous man but there were a lot of people that were righteous.”

Joe never forgot where he came from- how could he- and all of the unthinkable horrors he experienced firsthand.  And despite it all, he was never bitter but instead- Joe was eternally grateful- able to find great beauty in the world- in people- in loved ones and constantly appreciating everything- even each meal which he regularly said was ‘the best he ever had’.

Even as his body slowing down, Joe really enjoyed going to the Brown Center and he so loved his amazing caregivers- Denise, Ashley, James and Jackie, and the devoted staff at Heart to Heart and Jewish Hospice.  Over the last many months Cantor Gross and I have been visiting Joe and singing with him- from Israeli songs to Jewish liturgy- and our lasting memory will also be how Joe out sung us all- holding on to the last few notes as long as he possibly could- with that booming voice that I know will continue to resonate in our minds as we continue to think of him and celebrate his life.

Having lived a life filled with yiddishkeit and mentschlekeit, surrounded by his loving family, Joe quietly slipped away late Wednesday afternoon, entering the Olam HaEmet, this highest world of truth and tranquility.  And now, as we gather in his memory we pray, may the precious soul of our beloved Cantor Joseph Birnholtz, HaChazan Yosef ben Baruch Pinchas u’Mindele, rest in peace, now and forevermore.  Kein Yehi Ratzon.  So may our prayer be God’s will.  And let us say: Amen.


Words I shared at his funeral:
Grandpa always said he would live forever. He said no one could live through what he lived through and seen what he saw and not.

After his experience losing so much of his family in the holocaust and so so many terrible and scary experiences as a child and teenager, he came to America with very little eduation and absolutely nothing and built a whole new life. We went back to Poland with him and saw a glimpse of what his life was like, and it was quite different than Detroit, and he had to navigate it all while dealing with the trauma.

He met my grandma and then had a partner forever.

He worked hard – doing whatever he could with his artistic skills, in both visual art with his painting and also with his singing – and he and my grandma together completely built a life.

He was so proud of what he accomplished. If you went to his house, it seemed like in every corner or drawer there was an award he had received, or a message about him in a newsletter that he wanted to share with you or an honorary degree to celebrate. He wanted to share it with anyone who would listen (and we did).

He was also so proud of all of us. I remember after Shabbat morning services, at Kiddush in Kentucky, he had to introduce us to everyone. I mean everyone.

And we were proud of him too. I have so many memories of sitting in shul and thinking “that’s my grandpa who leads all of this and has that amazing, booming voice.”

Often, I sit in my privileged life with my privileged struggles and I think about how he and my grandma got to where they got and all that they had to overcome to do it. It inspires me in the way I live my life.

He passes to me a strong identity of the legacy of the holocaust and a responsibility to continue to build this family and carry on the traditions that came with him to America.

So it turns out he will indeed live forever.

Food Therapy

It has been a year and a half since I have posted, and yet again, I want to blog about food. This one is because I think it can actually help other people with the same challenges we have struggled with. My post about my uterus adventures was in a similar light, and I have had many people contact me about Asherman's in Singapore, so I believe it was effective! (Plus a bit cathartic to get it out of my head and out there)

Other than food therapy (see below...) in the last 1.5 years we have survived, but it hasn't been easy! Samara is now 7 and in first grade, Elie is 4 and Koby just turned 3. Matt has been enjoying his work a lot. I started working a lot more - which has been awesome for me. Our parents are generally doing well, we are enjoying our house. I would say life is good. We are finally getting into a groove where we are having fun and it's not all physical labor with these kids!

But the reason for the post...Our family's life has been transformed by food therapy. Not only is Samara eating more variety (more details to come), but the boys are too. Our family meals are generally enjoyable. Eating at friends' houses or at restaurants is not NEARLY as stressful as it used to be. AND, some of Samara's sensory stuff - inflexibility around what clothes feels good on her body, doing things her way, etc - have very much improved. Here's the story...

As I have blogged about before (here and here - and possibly other times), Samara had an extremely limited diet. Since she started eating (doctor suggested at five months), she didn't accept food. She gagged. She puked. It was miserable for her. It was miserable for us. The research I did in Singapore told me to just encourage any positive behavior, but don't focus too much on the bad.  You can't MAKE her eat, right?

Then I found Ellen Satyr's book, Child of Mine (from another mom at our pre school here, probably about 2.5-3 years ago). I really liked the approach called DOR - you tell them what and when, and they decide if and how much. You always serve at least two things that the kid eats - one could be a drink. All is family style. Everyone takes for himself. Nothing gets put on your plate that you don't want. You have control - or you feel like you have control. Meals did get WAY less stressful with this approach. But then we had more kids, and my other kids were normal eaters who weren't eating normally, because they were following Samara's lead. And her diet became even more limited, as I didn't pressure her to eat anything. So she was eating nearly no meal foods. She was refusing foods I put in her lunch. She was basically down to snacks with a complete fit if anything else was suggested. Koby was 2. We were sleeping a bit more. I actually had time and space in my brain and life to figure this out. I started searching the SUPER useful Newton Parents facebook group, and I saw people recommended Children's Speech and Feeding in Needham for food therapy.

I had VERY low expectations, but I figured we had to do SOMETHING. Our meals were non-functional. We couldn't eat out (she was down to nearly no grilled cheeses and only if they had french friends, pizza from only one place - no meat, no pasta, no veggies, no fruit, NOTHING). Eating at friends' houses was so stressful - I didn't enjoy it. Shabbat dinner at shul was a nightmare (she wouldn't even eat a challah she wasn't used to). I definitely needed help. I had tried everything I thought I should do as a loving mom, and it had made things worse.

We went for an evaluation last June. They had a few month waitlist, and our insurance didn't cover it, but it seemed like we should just try it and wait. After making an appointment for August or September, they called with an immediate opening with Arden Hill, the founder of the practice for the next week. We were to bring a food Samara ate happily (cereal), a food she used to eat that we wished she ate (plain yogurt, I think?), and a food we wished she ate that we thought was realistic for her to eat (carrots). At the end of the assessment she was eating TINY bites of carrot - probably 1/32 of a baby carrot stick, or perhaps smaller (I believe I cried when I saw that - I didn't believe it. This kid had eaten one vegetable in her life, and it had been years). Arden diagnosed her with a swallowing disorder - a food sensitivity - (she gags and pukes with things she doesn't expect). She said that some was behavioral (the foods she once ate that she didn't anymore) and that the rest of was sensory (she hadn't even tried nearly everything). And she suggested food therapy for a year. She said they might have space in the fall.

We went in a few times over the summer for individual appointments where she talked to a speech therapist and worked on eating carrots and a few other things. They then got her into a group "Food University" class, once a week for 1.5 hours (5-6:30pm), starting in September.

At Food University, the six(ish) kids (who are all 6-8ish) discuss the week, how they did, then they make a recipe together to "eat" for dinner. While the food is cooking, the kids work on foods their parents send in from home - a protein and a produce item. For new foods, they have a process of:

• Have the food near you/on your plate
• Touch it/interact with the food
• Smell the food
• Touch it to your lips
• Kiss it
• Take a tiny bit and spit it out (into an "all-done bowl")
• Take a tiny tiny bite, chew it in the front of your mouth, push it to the back of your mouth and swallow it (this one was often accompanied by a gag or puke - but this improved with experience)
• Tasting bites (starting with a few, then perhaps a few more)
• Bigger bites
• "Just-right bites"

They had homework every week, including the two foods we brought in and including the food they made together (which we had to make again at home). Foods they made included: chili, quesadilla, calzones, lasagna, roasted potato with egg, soup...Foods we worked on included: freeze dried apple, carrots, apple, cucumbers, peppers, pasta, boxed mac n cheese, fish sticks (home made and from a box), chicken nuggets (home made and from a box), cheese sandwich, pancakes, french toast, cream cheese sandwich...plus many more. I focused on foods that would make her more flexible (eat out, eat at a friend's house) and variety - not specifically the most healthy ones. Homework would be something like: 1/4 of a chicken nugget two days, 1/10th of a pepper strip cut into tiny pieces twice a week, a half a black bean twice a week, a small strip of lasagna twice a week - it started SUPER small and moved to a little more but still very small portions - and this is what made it do-able for Samara. If I had given her an apple and told her to take a bite and eat it, she literally couldn't. But start with a tiny piece of apple with no peel, do the process above, make the piece bigger, add peel...and give it months, and ultimately I do believe she could do it. But it's a slow slow process.

She started with bite sizes like a salt particle. It was so depressing to think how far we would have to come to be normal. SO MUCH PATIENCE. SO MUCH WORK on her part and on my part. EVERY night (but one per week) she had homework, and EVERY night it was a fight. She had to put things on her plate. She had to do her homework that she had agreed to with the therapists. If she didn't do the homework in a certain amount of time, she lost privileges (TV, story, opportunity to be downstairs and play), and she had to have it for breakfast. This breakfast thing only happened once, and it was AWFUL. I felt like the worst mom, but once I did it once, she knew I was serious (fish sticks for breakfast sucks). Fighting with your daughter about this thing that has been SO STRESSFUL for both of you for the last six YEARS is not easy. It was REALLY REALLY HARD. I felt super alone in the struggle, but ultimately she was making progress.

I kept asking the therapists how this would translate into real/normal eating, as she was eating 1/4 of a carrot stick or a noodle or something like that, but it wasn't enough to sustain her. To be honest, I didn't get a great answer to this, but it felt like this was about as much progress as I could ever expect (it was actually beyond what I thought was possible), so we pushed on and kept going. I believe we missed one session in the 8-9 months that she was in the class - we were so committed. I had a hard time with the homework when we were on vacation, but otherwise I really stuck to it, and she did too. She felt so proud of herself when she did eat new things. There were a few things that she actually liked - a very few - but those were amazing. She got more flexible - she tried pizza from other places (they taught "pizza is pizza is pizza"). Challah from other places. Grilled cheese from other places. She tasted things I had a feeling she would like but she wouldn't try before - chicken nuggets, roasted potatoes, plain pasta, a restaurant bread roll...things that made it so we could EAT OUT OF THE HOUSE.

Now she had to have things on her plate. She had to try new foods - because as it turns out, if I left it up to her, she wouldn't try it. It turns out that I know better than a seven year old, and she cannot be left to make that judgement. Because she had to try things, so did the boys. So everyone tried dinner. We had LOTS of positive reinforcement ("great bite, Samara!" "I love how you tried that new vegetable, Elie!""Look how nicely Koby just picked up that piece of salmon and put it in his mouth - excellent work!"). And lo and behold - THEY ALL EAT!!!

Last night I made a chicken in a crock pot, roasted potatoes, roasted sweet potatoes, roasted beets, fresh cut veggies and couscous. Samara ate a reasonable amount of chicken (probably a tablespoon), a bunch of roasted potatoes and a few pepper strips. Elie and Koby ate all of it. None of them would have eaten ANY of that before food therapy. NONE of my kids at vegetables. None. Samara also asked for raisins for a snack yesterday (she hadn't had raisins since she was 2). She recently asked to try dried mango (she liked it), string cheese (she has had it a few times and likes it), fruit leather and a few other things. ON HER OWN. I DIDN'T EVEN MAKE HER TRY. She has confidence, and she wants to! It's amazing.

I make new things - big fish filets or chicken breasts breaded or roasted, pasta with something in it (they can try it or eat around it), veggies of all sorts made in all sorts of ways - and they try it and generally find things they like, or like enough to eat enough of. I literally can't believe it. Their bodies must be so so thankful. I am so so proud. It has taken so much work and so much money, but it has been so so worth it. 

We went to Brooklyn last weekend for a wedding, and Samara could eat rolls, veggies, pasta, french fries, chicken strips, pancakes, bagels, waffles, toast - even if it has seeds in it...all sorts of things, and it was NOT STRESSFUL (90% of the time)!!!

It's not like they eat anything - they're still kids. But they're NORMAL kids!!! It's amazing. THANK YOU, Children's Speech and Feeding in Needham Mass.

Kids CAN Eat!

If you would have told me three years ago that I would have kids who would have eaten (happily) the following things over a 24 hour period, I would NOT have believed you. And, I would have slept many nights that I missed.

Scrambled eggs
Different varieties of cheese
Different varieties of bread - even with SEEDS!
Sushi - with raw tuna, imitation crab and cucumber, separately
Grapes
Sweet potatoes
Tofu
Peppers
Peanut butter and jelly
Blueberries
Strawberries
Pomegranate
Pomello
Apple
Banana
Oatmeal
Squash
Cucumber
Tortilla

Now...to figure out how the challenging one will eat anything other than plain toast, mac and cheese or pizza (only certain pizzas) for dinner.

As confirmed a few other times in the last few years - HER EATING HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ME OR WHAT I DID. STOP BLAMING PARENTS FOR KIDS' PICKY EATING. PLEASE.