Is It True That You Can Never Go Home Again?

They say ”you can never go home again,” but is it true? Doesn’t  the word "home" imply that you can return, that you will always be welcome unconditionally, and regardless of anything?

 I was reminded of the more metaphorical meanings of this saying  this week while staying in the US with my daughter, her  husband and their new daughter-- my first granddaughter. We were discussing some  practices from the time when my daughters were babies, about  thirty years ago, in the US.

My daughter listened patiently to me and then told me, with a half embarrassed smile, that those practices were no longer used. Nowadays new regulations indicate that the baby should not sleep on her stomach without supervision, that she should not  drink water (but that has been true for years). There are also strict regulations about furniture which mean that she can no longer sleep in the family crib or in the cradle, built thirty years ago by a loving uncle. These are only few examples from a long list of practices and objects which could no longer be used. .

My daughter, a responsible and sensible mother, only wants what is best for her baby. Still it made me sad that, due to safety reasons, my daughter and her daughter are  deprived of the connection with the family history: her baby will not sleep in the same cradle that her father had slept in.

The main reason for those strict regulations is to prevent, as much as possible, Sudden Infant Death. I still remember the horrible fear of SIDS  when my own daughters were babies. Then we were not aware that anything could be done about it. Nowadays,  thanks to the new regulations, this syndrome has almost been eradicated.

But then yesterday my daughter went through the baby’s clothes showing me what she had received from family members and friends. Some of the items looked old and used, still she wanted to keep them.  Moreover, my daughter tried to convince me to return new gifts of clothes claiming that she already had more than enough. I argued  that it was fun to dress a new baby with new clothes.

At first I didn’t see why she wanted to keep the old clothes, but later I understood. Wearing clothes that came from cousins and friends was a way to maintain the important connection with the past. The baby was surrounded with so much new and impersonal equipment, that my daughter preferred the meaningful clothes to those new ones which were still sterile.

Dressing the baby with hand-me-down clothes  from people that you care about, is an act of bonding, and it is a way to go home again. 

Besides, it promotes another important value, that of social and consumer responsibility. It is especially significant in a place like the US where consumers goods are so abundant and  inexpensive that it is too easy to buy everything new.

I can compare this type of responsibility to the growing movement toward adoption of rescue pets, why spend money on one pedigree dog when so many other need a home?

And speaking of home, later today I will fly back to Israel; my daughter, her American husband, half American daughter, and her Israeli dog will remain  in their home in the US.  Staying with  this young  family I had to expand the meaning of home with the help of another saying: “home is where your heart is.” Indeed part of mine will remain with them.

The Fear of Sounding Trivial

 FEB.07.2013 - 1:15 AM

last weekend we spent in Venice and had a wonderful time: the whole city was celebrating  the Carnival of Venice. We walked the streets surrounded by  grown- ups dressed in elaborated period costumes and covered in masks.

 When we got back my daughter asked me why I didn’t write about the visit. Usually when we go away we send mails to the rest of the family detailing our experiences. But this time I didn’t write, and her question made me wonder why. 

There could be several reasons,  the main one is that it was a short vacation, only 5 days and I preferred spending the time walking in the city rather than writing about it.  Another reason could be that after I had finished checking my mail and answering my students’ questions I had no mental leisure for writing a proper letter. But I was not happy with these explanations.

 My suspicion is that I was too self-conscious of sounding banal even in a simple letter to my own daughters. What can I say about Venice and how could I? The paralyzing fear of sounding trivial is always there when writing;  often after  researching a topic, when I finally sit down to write it I  wonder if after all I still  have anything new or interesting  to say.  But here it was Venice's fault, it caused me to avoid writing altogether.

As I am writing this post I remember Bill Bryson who always finds exciting insights about the places that he visits. A wonderful example is Notes From A Small Island (1995) which he  wrote after  touring  Britain as a student in the 1970s. He never sounds  banal and even the British people love  his writing and enjoy his sense of humor.

We visited Venice when my two daughters were thirteen and eleven. At that time we were not worried about how we wrote about the visit as  we asked the girls to be in charge of the trip journal and to write about their experiences.  What they chose to describe had nothing to do with the beauty of the city. They wrote about  the camping site where we stayed, the ice cream that we ate, the smell on the canal and how we got lost in Venice, and how Coke was more expensive than the wine that their parents bought. I guess that after all I cannot avoid the cliche about seeing Venice through the eye of a child.

http://www.carnevale.venezia.it/?slang=en

Tomorrow Is Promised To No One:” Clichés Which Make Death More Palatable

JUL.27.2013

 Two English friends were discussing a mutual friend who recently passed away. One of my friends said “I am so sorry that I missed my chance of seeing her again and now it is too late.” I knew exactly what she meant, as it has also happened to me. Death leaves you with a helpless feeling of missed opportunities.

When my husband died, a friend quoted the expression: “tomorrow is promised to no one,” and I often reflect on the different meanings of this saying. I also ask myself why it is that so many insights concerning our fate are formulated in expressions, idioms and cliches: “Carpe diem,” for example, is an empowering way of saying that you may not live to see tomorrow.

 Since “an opportunity missed is an opportunity lost,” when a tragedy occurs we often make resolutions on “how to make every moment count,” and how we should lead our life while we can still “wake up and smell the coffee.”

 But as it is a heavy burden to “live every day like it is our last,” we often go back to the way we were before calamity struck. From my personal experience and from talking to other widows, I feel that disasters could be an opportunity to re-examine beliefs, attitudes and positions which are no longer relevant, and to make changes: “When life gives you lemons make lemonade”

The concept of making changes, makes me think of Stevens, the protagonist and narrator of  The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro. This is a novel about passivity and resignation which lead to missed opportunities and regrets. Stevens, the head butler at Darlington Hall, is a man whose  inner self is clogged up with irrelevant beliefs, attitudes and positions.

Here are two examples:

 “What is the point of worrying oneself too much about what one could or could not have done to control the course one's life took?”

Or:

“In any case, while it is all very well to talk of 'turning points', one can surely only recognize such moments in retrospect.”

Stevens' worldview results in paralysis. Luckily we often do recognize our “turning points” in time, and are able to regain control, take action and make changes in our life.

Perhaps the answer to my question about overuse of cliches is that they comfort us and help us brave "what is waiting for us around the corner.” Moreover, those expressions emphasizes that we all "are in the same boat."

So while sailing, next time “when life deals us a tough blow” let’s make a large glass of lemonade, toast it and “seize the day!”