Rachel is my grandniece, my late brother’s granddaughter. We are separated by geography, years and
even beliefs. Our hair and stature,
however, mimic my Mother. When my
memory reaches for my Mother, I see her at the mirror struggling to tame her
curly locks. I also see her directing my Dad on a ladder reaching for
something, fixing something that eluded her.
Rachel is short, a few inches taller than my four foot ten plus perceptive, sure-footed and smart with her
hands and head. She reminds me of my
Mom, down to the last curl she tucks into her scarf.
Her beauty is her own: sparkling skin, sharp, insightful eyes combined
with an eagerness to help, to reach out to accept whatever she confronts. She is the only one that I know who entered
Wellesley College as a Reform (Progressive) Jew and graduated as a traditional,
strict believer. Her Judaism evolved
from the liberal nature of the Reform Jewish movement, toward the more
traditional Orthodox Judaism, requiring stricter observances, a more encompassing belief system and way of
life. To accomplish that in the relaxed
atmosphere of a college campus took a great deal of soul searching and
determination. I salute this young
woman whom I love, for her sincerity, tenacity and for herself.
It should now be clear that I welcomed her visit. I have written many times how good it is for
us (elderly) to have younger friends who embrace and challenge us and never ask
if we had a bowel movement today!
Rachel is family; that makes her very special to me.
She is also warm and friendly,
eager on the one hand to offer assistance and on the other hand, always ready
to allow me to do it myself. She never
was insistent with her help, her perceptions allowed her to step back, whether
“it” was getting out of the car or reaching something a bit higher up on the
shelf.
My daughter and my friends have special places in my heart. Rachel’s willingness to take a time out with
her “Aunt Aggie” endears her, she enhanced my life by giving me her gift of
time, patience and affection.
Everyone should have a young person in his/her life, a young man or
woman who has no personal agenda beyond spending time with an elderly family
member. What Rachel gave to me this
week was a willingness to join me in whatever I chose to do. She was prepared to enjoy with me, at my
pace. We went walking at the beach both
days that she was here. Walking with me
can be slow. When Rachel felt the need
for more intense exercise, she let me sit on the bench while she walked faster
and further. As she well knows, I am
always happy for chance to sit in the sun and enjoy the ocean as it comes and
goes. That was a treat.
Rachel in her thirties shows great patience for her aunt in her
nineties. Sixty years between us, more or less, it did not mean that we had
nothing in common to talk about; we found lots to engage us. Of course I am interested in the three
little ones she left behind in Tacoma, with her Mother and husband Ben. Rachel
and her family live in Israel and come to the States, most often in July and
August to visit with parents. When I was a bit younger I visited with her in
Tacoma, she was to my joy, eager to come and visit me here at home. I hope she enjoyed doing it, I certainly
did.
Rachel is also a creative young woman.
The wall in my spare room is covered with family pictures. One afternoon she took pictures of those
pictures and then asked me to describe each and identify everyone. Rachel and her visit are proof positive that
the generations can enjoy each other.
When Rachel left I drew a deep breath of satisfaction! That was fun!
