Love and marriage?

A friend of ours got married this week.

He is 47. He married a 35-year-old woman. They got married, just like Carrie Bradshaw and Big of Sex and The City, in the City Hall of New York. Just the two of them and a witness friend who also took pictures. They sent us the link to the pictures which they posted on the Internet and also uploaded a very short sweet video of the ceremony on You Tube.

Good night, little flower

I was in the bread shop buying bread. After a long day of meetings in Jerusalem I was now back in Tel Aviv. As I was standing at the counter, placing my order, I heard the song. Playing softly in the background. For a moment I thought I was mistaken. But then no. There it was. And even before realising it, there I was, softly singing along with it, suddenly remembering all the words I didn't know I knew.

It is the Italian song of singer songwriter Francesco De Gregori, "Bounanotte Fiorellino". Goodnight flower. About someone who wishes goodnight to his love/wife who is far away. I had forgotten about the song. I don't think I've heard it since I left Italy, at the age of 18.

But suddenly I was awash with memories. Teenagers sitting around the bonfire with a guitar, humming along to this song, boys and girls hugging to keep warm in the cool Italian night. He wasn't even my favorite artist. It was just a song I loved and forgot about. Until today.

So here is the link to the song on You Tube. I looked it up when I came home and I've been listening to it ever since. Just so you can hear what I listened to many years ago and heard again today. Goodnight to all of you. I hope you enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cIkosxIvEQw&feature=related

Photo credit: http://i.telegraph.co.uk/telegraph/multimedia/archive/00676/teenagers-newquay_676811c.jpg

Grazie Mille, Mr Giorgio Armani

Reminiscing about my son MB's Bar Mitzvah, (see the previous two posts), has brought back fond memories of the preparations towards that big day and also a story about the dress I chose to wear at the dancing party we held for family and friends after the synagogue.

So here's the story.

I needed a dress. A party dress. A happy dress. And whenever I need a happy dress the person I think of is Giorgio. Yes. Giorgio. Giorgio Armani. The Italiano.

Bar Mitzva Story: a retrospective of the big day - part II

Ok. Here comes part two. We were at the synagogue. And indeed, it proved to be the perfect choice.
But let me first tell you what happened to my little sweet-faced baby on his road to becoming a Bar Mitzvah. Because 13 is apparently not just a randomly selected age. It appears to be a real watershed in terms of boys growing up.

Because here is what happened to MB:

Bar Mitzvah story: a retrospective of the big day-part 1

A few days before we celebrated the Jewish New Year it occurred to me that we were exiting my son's Bar Mitzvah year. It also occurred to me that most of the posts in this blog have been about My Girl (MG) and not much has been said about My Boy (MB). So this one is for you, MB.

Happy new year

Jews all over the world will be celebrating the Jewish new year tonight.

In half an hour here in Tel Aviv I will light my candles with my family and then we will go over to my mother's house for a family meal. Delicious food, always, and many many people.

Unlike secular new years' celebrations, on December 31, the Jewish New Year is a time for introspection,  leading up to the 10 Yamim Noraim, or 10 days of Awe, that close with the Yom Kippur, a day of  fasting and reckoning in which Jews ask forgiveness to peers and to God for all their sins.

I have spent the morning cooking as tomorrow I have about 20 people over for lunch - but I have taken the easy way out and the meal will be salads and cold cuts.

So now I am sitting in my living room. Surrounded by flowers sent to my by my best friend (a girl) and by my husband and children. I am waiting for everyone to come to the living room to light the festival candles. They are having their showers - and I'm listening to some music. All smells clean. All is quiet. All is good.

As Benjamin Franklin (apparently) said: “Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each New Year find you a better man” (or woman).


Happy new year to all of us.


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When do you delete?

It is probably due to my growing older, but I find myself more and more being confronted by a dilemma that involves new technology and the natural process of life, or rather death.

We're off. China here we come!

Just to let you know we are off on holiday. China. Hopefully I'll be able to keep you posted on experiences from whereever I am. All is packed and we are ready to go. Beijing and Yunan Province are our destinations. I am very excited and a bit nervous too...everything will be so new. So bye for now.

Photo caption: Beijing
pertraviagens.files.wordpress.com/2009/11/bei...

That damn "M" word

Ok. Here I am again. Sorry for not having updated for so long, but it has been hectic. I had a work project that never ended. At the same time my in-laws visited from abroad for three weeks. Then the children finished school and I started making plans to refurbish the house. I am NOT looking forward to that. We are also going on holiday to China (believe it or not) in a few days. So the buildup of all this has been very big.

Anyway. In the time I have been away from this blog something major has happened.

I have become officially old.

He took our breath away!

Thank you Sir Elton John for an enchanting, exciting, and emotional night. You took our breath away indeed.

To see excerpts of the evening click on this link to the YNET news website. It is in hebrew, but the pictures say it all.

http://www.ynet.co.il/articles/0,7340,L-3906877,00.html

Photo by Yaron Berner, Ynet.

Welcome to Israel, Sir Elton John

I can't wait. Tonight is the night. Elton John is landing in Israel in a couple of hours and will be performing tonight in the Ramat Gan Stadium. Thousands of fans, among them my family and myself, will be pouring down the streets and making their way on foot, bike, taxis, buses and motorbikes to the stadium. Cellphones and maybe candles in hand, we will illuminate the warm night and show him how much we love him and his songs.

I'm rooting for you, Steve Jobs

A day after the CEO of Apple, Steve Jobs, launched the new and apparently sexy and upgraded iPhone 4, I would like to bring to your attention an inspiring speech he made in June 2005, at Stanford University. I saw and heard his speech recently online through the website Ted.com. This is the link. You should definitely have a look.  http://www.ted.com/talks/steve_jobs_how_to_live_before_you_die.html

The speech is amazing because Steve Jobs is, obviously, a very special person. But it is also a special speech for me, because Steve Jobs was adopted as a baby. I didn't know that until I heard his speech.

So Mr Jobs. Thank you for your Apple Macs and your iPhones. And thank you for being a person adopted children and their families can look to for inspiration and hope. I hope for you what I hope for my adopted little girl, MG. That you managed to keep your back upright when the adoption bag tried to pull you down. And that along with your success you are also a happy person.

Picture caption: Apple CEO Steve Jobs holding the iPhone 4 at Worldwide Developers Conference 2010.
Picture credit: Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Steve_Jobs_Headshot_2010-CROP.jpg

Tortelloni alla Meneghina

Yesterday night, five years ago exactly, my father passed away. On a Monday night at 8.30 pm.

He passed away in a rehabilitation center. My mother and sister MSH were with him. I had just walked out of his room to say goodbye to one of my Aunts. The doctors had warned us his time was up, but of course one is never ready for death.

Milano, I'm back!

Well, here I am. In Milano, Italy. The city in which I grew up. The city in which every corner has a little memory. We came here, MM, MB, MG and me, together with my older sister and her two children for a long weekend. It was holiday in Tel Aviv so we decided to treat the kids to a little bit of Milanese life. My kids hadn’t been here for over two years, and neither had I.

Happy Mother's Day

On the tail of Mother's day, which some parts of the world celebrated this week, I have to tell you about an article I read in the New York Times (NYT) on May 6. (By the way. Mother's day in Israel has been renamed “family day”, in which the whole family is celebrated and not just the mother).


Written by NYT columnist Anand Giridharadas, the article, titled “New leaders find strength in diversity”, talks about an emergent breed of hybrid leaders – those who belong to “multiple worlds and who carry those worlds with them.”

By the way...

By the way...the gas masks arrived yesterday with a courier without a flaw. I didn't tip him. I put them in the basement, in our bomb shelter room. The children do not know of their arrival. Now I have to order one for my Mum.

By the way...MG decided finally to leave her dancing class. "I'm not that good Mummy," she said. When a dancing school manager called yesterday to ask why she left, MG politely told her on the phone she does not want to dance anymore. I explained to the manager, in a very civil tone, that MG doesn't want to contine dancing because she thinks she is not good enough. "Unfortunately, that's the message she got from you all along. So now she has decided to leave," I told the woman. "And what is a real pity is that she is leaving with the feeling that she is not a good dancer, which is a shame. Because she may not want to try out any other dancing class." The manager asked us to reconsider, saying they will help MG all they can so she can learn the steps. I said we'd think about it. But MG has moved on already. She doesn't look back.

Photo caption: Lot's wife looked back - Mount Sodom.
http://israelinsider.ning.com/photo/lots-wife-mount-sodom?context=popular

"A Brand New Life" - a heart-breaking South Korean movie about adoption

  

You come out of the movie “A Brand New Life” by French-Korean film maker Ounie Lecomte with the same feeling you get after you’ve read a great book – a haunting bitter-sweet warmth that stays with you for days.

This 2009 autobiographical movie, debuting in Tel Aviv this week, is about nine-year old Jinhee. The first scene depicts her sitting on a bike hugging her father’s back, going on a trip. We don’t get to see the father’s face. He rides her to a cake store, tells her to pick the best cake on sale, and then bikes to an orphanage run by Catholic nuns. He leaves Jinhee there, without an explanation and without a goodbye.

A phone conversation this morning in Israel

This is how my phone conversation went this morning (more or less).

Girl: "Hello, this is the Israel Postal Company. How can I help you?"

ME: "Umm, it's about the gas masks."

Girl: "Yes?"

ME: "I need to order my gas masks."

Israel at 62

As we celebrated Israel's 62 years of independence last Tuesday - with parties and bar-b-que fests, here are some off-the-beaten-track facts about Israel for you to know. (Courtesy of the daily newspaper Israel Today).

All-of-a-kind families

We spent the weekend on Lake Kinneret (Sea of Galilee), at a wonderful site called Karei Deshe- a youth hostel right at the steps of the lake with lush gardens and a wide common outdoor area where you can sit around and chat.

MM (MyMan), MG (MyGirl) and I went for the weekend. MB(MyBoy) stayed in Tel Aviv. He had a friend's overnight birthday party and was planning to come home on Saturday and recover some lost hours of sleep.

The reason for our trip was our twice yearly meeting with parents who have adopted children of Ethiopian origin. The group was formed some 20 years ago, with the first adopted children. Today the mailing list of the group numbers around 73 families. Not everyone comes to these meetings of course,  but there are always a significant representative number and the meetings are always fun. We generally have a Friday night meal at the hotel/hostel we are staying in and on Saturday we have a joint picnic. Each family brings something from home. We put it all together and have a feast.

A prayer for our sons

Israel celebrates today Memorial Day for its fallen soldiers and victims of terror attacks. In ceremonies throughout the country Israelis mark the loss of children, parents, brothers or sisters. All feel humbled by the weight of bereavement.

On a day such as this I cannot but talk to you about the prayer that rises in the hearts of all Israeli mothers at the birth of their children.

A small victory in a big war

This is going to be a long post, so you'll have to bear with me.

My ten-year old daughter, MG, has started attending an Israeli folk-dancing class. She goes to it dressed in a black leotard and tights, with her shoulder-length curly hair gelled down tightly into a ponytail, black clips holding down any rebel curls. They do folkdancing steps, often in couples, clapping hands, swirling around and loudly yelling:"HEY HOP" . It looks like real fun indeed.

She used to love the class. She'd come back skipping, and singing and dancing the steps. A big smile on her happy face.

But she also happened to mention that most of the girls in her dancing class had received the "best dancer of the week" title the teacher conferred to the students. But not her. So I told her: "Don't worry. Just do your best. I am sure you will also get the recognition sometime."

The early-morning clink of a teaspoon against a teacup

I sometimes make myself a cup of tea early in the morning, those rare times when the household is still asleep (my daughter tends to be an earlier riser than me), mostly on weekends. And there I am, standing in my kitchen, stirring the milk and the saccharine into the hot, tea-soaked water, when I hear the noise. "Clink, clink... clink." It is the teaspoon. Bumping against the side of the teacup. And suddenly, always, I am overwhelmed by memories.

My favorite colour is Brown

Yes it is.

My favorite colour is brown.

And yes, I am used to the big eyes and surprised looks I get from people, especially children, when they hear that brown is my favorite colour of all. When that happens, I say: "Why are you surprised? Brown is the lovely colour of earth, of tree trunks and of delicious chocolate." And then, when appropriate, I add: "Brown is also the beautiful colour of your hair and eyes." That is when understanding a recognition appear in their eyes. Brown is indeed a beautiful, even if a somewhat undervalued and forgotten, colour.

Welcome

Well, welcome to my blog. This will be a hurried one, as most of my postings here probably. Hurried because I always seem to have too little time to do things I want and like. Hurried because I am always on the run, answering my phone, taking my kids to after school classes, and frankly I'm not sure what else I do, but I don't seem to have much time at all. If you are a Mum, I think you will probably know what I am talking about.

Anyway. In this blog you will find my thoughts about motherhood. I am a mother of two: a biological child, a boy, aged 14. I'll call him My Boy (MB) for the purposes of this blog. And a girl, aged 10, called My Girl (MG). She is an adopted child, born in Israel of Ethiopian origin. We got her at the age of 10 months. So you will also find here my thoughts about adoption and the challenges that arise from raising an adopted child of a different colour.

Because of my difficulties in getting pregnant, motherhood is never taken for granted.