more days that change your life

So just last week my baby boarded the school bus for the very first time, joining Ms. Wyllie's primary class at Shatford Elementary. Big Kid School. No more preschool. She was very brave. People kept telling me I'd cry when this momentous day came, and I was sure I wouldn't. I am a crier, but generally this is the sort of thing I take in stride, or so I thought. Then I found myself in tears holding on to Michael on our walk home from the bus stop, but not so much because my baby is growing up, but because I remembered how horrible my first day of school was. Luckily, history did not repeat itself, and she was just fine, and 8 school days later, she's still doing great, my young scholar.

The same day Naomi started school, so did Michael, having left his management position at a call centre (where he wasn't happy at all) to join the oil and gas sector. Soon he will be heading West to the Alberta oilrigs, and after 11 years together, we will once again be in a long distance relationship, like the year we started dating. So that would mark the first day of the rest of his life, joining the millions of generation X members who will go through an average of three or more career changes in their lifetimes.

And another day came along this past week that has changed my life forever. I have been diagnosed with Celiac Disease. Apparently 1 in 2000 people are unable to digest a protein found in gluten, causing the intestine walls to become inflamed, and making it difficult for the body to absorb nutrients. An autoimmune disorder, Celiac disease can cause anemia, B12 deficiency, and osteopenia (a precursor to osteoporosis), all of which I have. The only treatment is a completely gluten-free diet. I am experiencing the seven stages of grief for baked goods, the first stage being denial.

But I will not take this lying down. It's not terminal, just one more pain in the ass. So I have started an online petition asking President's Choice, a major Canadian food brand, to begin labelling its applicable products as gluten-free, a practice which a representative told me they have considered in the past, but opted not to bother with. You can add your name to the petition by visiting: http://www.ipetitions.com/petition/pcglutenfree/

days that change your life

I was watching an interesting documentary the other night about September 11, a conspiracy theory tale about the collapse of WTC 7, the third building to collapse that day. The documentary kept referencing a film called "Loose Change: Final Cut," which I am not endorsing, as I haven't seen it yet, but I will definitely be looking up. I have watched a lot of programs about 9/11 by now, and they all grab me in the gut. Seven years ago...still so hard to believe. More and more, when I see footage from that day, I feel like I am watching a movie, waiting for the action hero Bruce Willis or Ahnold to turn up and save the day. I find it harder to remember what was going through my mind that day, as I watched the second plane hit live on CNN, watched the towers fall, in disbelief. Now I am not a New Yorker, or American, but I was both directly and indirectly affected (haven't we all been?) by the events of that unbelievable day, spending the night into the small hours as a Red Cross volunteer helping settle some of the hundreds of stranded passengers in emergency shelters, using my linguistic skills to translate for a group of Orthodox Israelis who no one else could understand. Years later, I still believe the events of 9/11 sounded the death knell of the tourism industry here in Nova Scotia, as I watched my own business figures drop by 70%, although clearly many factors are at work, so I am still very affected by 9/11.

But what strikes me most about September 11, 2001 is that it may well be the single most defining historical moment which will occur during my lifetime. I've often thought a major difference between my mother's generation and mine was the moon landing. My mom didn't think they could do it (and I know there are some conspiracy theorists out there who think they didn't!), but for me, it was simply an historical fact, one more thing that happened before I was born. That reality dramatically impacted the culture of its time. As did 9/11. Not only can time be forever divided into before 9/11 and after, but the public consciousness has changed, in a way we are unlikely to turn back from for a long time to come. Living in a post 9/11 era is tangible in every sense: economic, social, political, cultural. How strange to think that for my daughter, September 11th is one more fact of history, like WWII, Vietnam, the moon landing - and will it be any more or less salient to her than those distant historical events? She started school a week ago, I think her school commemorates 9/11 in an age-appropriate way (whatever that is. On 9/11 preschool children in New York saw bodies falling from the sky. When are we old enough to witness such a thing?). I knew of a mother a couple years ago who was so disturbed by our school mentioning 9/11 to the children, she actually pulled her kids out of school to homeschool them. Facts are hard, death is hard, terrorism is hard - all these things are hard to explain to our children, when really, do we undertand them ourselves? But I do believe they have the right to share in the knowledge of their socio-political culture, in an age-appropriate way. Naomi's dad is a firefighter, like too many of the kids who lost parents, neighbours, relatives that awful day. This is part of her world. Children have a tremendous capacity for compassion, and love, precious qualities we all need to help heal our real and psychic wounds.

I wonder, can there be positive moments that define a generation? Everyone knows where they were when JFK was shot, MLK, and everyone remembers where they were on 9/11. Am I just a cynic, or are their universally beneficial moments that touch us the same way? It seems good grows more quietly and slowly, while bad can happen in an instant.

good sabbath

I am a bad Jew. And I find mostly it is because I don't have time to be Jewish, which seems a poor excuse. I don't go to temple, but it's has a lot to do with the fact that the nearest shul is about 25 miles away from my house. I was going to start Naomi in Hebrew school last year, but it would have meant commuting to the city one more day a week (not even including a commute to Saturday services, so really 2 days). Last year, Michael frequently worked weekends, so I would have had to borrow a car to take her, and with him commuting 5 days, me 3 days, and her already spending too much time trapped in her car seat in the back of the car, it just seemed like too much commitment. This year, she has started school, and although I have tried to keep it to a reasonable level of chaos, I have signed her up for music and gymnastics lessons, plus I am teaching children's art lessons, so I bring her along, which means she has a full schedule already, without adding shul and Hebrew school. But I do celebrate most of the Jewish holidays with her at home, I even led a Purim party at her preschool last year (so although Jews don't proselytise, I am ensuring Jewish programming in her class, which I will continue with her in grade primary). And we have started observing shabbat, the Jewish sabbath, in our own small way.

I had been meaning to do this for ages. When I lived in Israel, I usually lit the candles on Friday evenings to signal the beginning of the day of rest. My Israeli friends laughed at me, the convert, more observant than them. Now we aren't talking full observance here, I still went out and drank and smoked and partied all night long, but after my quiet time alone at home with my candles. Even upon my return to Canada, I used to make challah, the traditional Jewish sabbath bread, every Friday. But all that had long gone by the wayside, drinking, smoking, partying, and the candles too. But then last year at hanukkah, Naomi loved the candles so much I thought it would be a good idea to be a little Jewish every week, and light the candles on Fridays. Except I am so scattered and absent-minded, a lot of the time I am really unaware of what day of the week it is, so I would forget. But finally, over a month ago now, I remembered one Friday as I was setting the table, wiped the dust off the beautiful candlesticks I was given by a Jewish friend as a wedding gift, dug out some (kosher!) candles, and after some scrounging around, found a match, and we had our first sabbath candle lighting. I told Naomi she would have to help me remember to do this every Friday, and Wednesday morning, the first sentence out of her sleepy mouth was, "Don't forget to light the candles on Friday mommy!" And so together, we remembered, and the next week, and the next. Then I went all out, and baked challah, from scratch (but I did use a breadmaker to mix the dough), with Naomi's help:
And the more I thought about it, the more I realized, we need a sabbath. There's a day of rest tradition for a reason. Our lives are so hectic, we need to remember to take time out just to relax, be present, and be with each other. Especially now, with the new routine of early mornings to make the schoolbus at 7:26, I go back to university next week, Michael is doing a training course this month - we can hardly find the time to find each other. So although I can't commit to the full day off from work and activities and errands (I really don't have the time), I can do my level best to sit down to a nice meal at the kitchen table at least once a week, and on Fridays, light the candles, as millions of others begin their Friday evening according to the very same tradition. And I might even put in an appearance at the temple for the High Holidays, which are fast approaching.