St Louis

And I circle back around again, but this time not into my past, buy my family’s past. I was in St Louis for a Jesuit dean conference…the place my parents grew up and the home of more cousins that I can count. This is my third trip and the first time that the “Saint” part of the city actually hit me. As a city founded by the French Catholics, of course it would named after a saint, but since I am Jewish that name never meant anything. We don’t have saints.

And of course even though there is a huge Catholic community, there is also a large (though not as large) Jewish community. And I might be related to half of them.

One of my favorite cousins picked be up for dinner from the most artsy hotel I have ever seen. My room, which was on the Puccini floor, looked and felt like an artist’s loft. There was art on the wall, sculptures outside the window, public art in the circle drive, and installation pieces in the hallways.

There was also a body builder competition being held close by, so the fitness center was full of half naked women and heels and men in Speedos posing in front of the wall to wall mirrors. Which, interestingly, was not very motivational for my workout.

But back to dinner. We went to a wonderful restaurant in an upscale area, lit Shabbat candles at the table, blessed the wine, blessed the bread, and wished each other Shabbat Shalom. And yes, if you are curious, I did have a hat on. Easy in St Louis where hats fit in.

My cousin and her husband looked up and waved at a classy woman who walked into the party room behind us. There as a pause, and then they laughed and said, “that is your cousin Debbie.” The other side of the family, but the sides of the family all know each other. So we crashed the party and hugged and talked to Debbie's parents. They had been very close to my brother, so we shared memories

I did not grow up with any of these cousins. I was in LA…a world away…until I left home and had even less connect with my distant family. But here I was in another city hugging people from my parent’s past…who belong to my present and my future. 

I was reflecting on this in the morning as I walked around and took pictures of the street art. The dog park is even a sculpture garden. No wedding dress pictures, but lots of memories.

Fort Worth and changing memories

The year of the wedding dress started with re-visiting the past, and learning to “remember it differently” the way that Esther did (see post on Purim). I have to remember the laughter and joys and successes and love, and move beyond the anger and pain. Amazing to think that we can not only plan the adventures that we will be able to remember, but we can choose how we remember our experiences.

How appropriate that I repainted and reframed my memories while attending the National Art Educators Association Conference in Dallas. Art and memory…would be a great workshop.

I was able to have dinner with my youngest step-daughter, her two daughters, and her two grand-daughters. Four generations eating and laughing together.  We spend an hour wandering through Barnes and Nobles looking at books and talking. The next day I took my eldest step-daughter to lunch and walked around downtown Fort Worth.

I realized that I have change the color palette from hard memories of those teen years that even in the worst of times were full of spunk and snarky wit. Even in the hard times, my heart would open, and so would theirs. Even when I thought about writing a book called “justifiable homicide for step-mothers” there was still glimmers of light and slivers of brilliance. Even when they said they hated me, pushed me to my limits, and pushed me away…or blamed me….I knew that the story was not over. We might have needed an intermission, but there would always be an Act Two…or Three…or Five Hundred and Six.

In this act we all shifted our memory, which changed our relationships. Maybe that is why we talk about memorizing something as “learning by heart.” I remember with my heart, my emotions, and those can be chosen and changed. We can chose to dredge up or reminisce, to bear in mind or evoke from our heart. Our choice…my choice.

And the wedding dress moves on.

Purim

A couple weeks ago we celebrated the holiday of Purim, a celebration of a woman, Esther, saving the Jewish people.The entire story focuses on the choices that good people have to make in order to prevent evil and suffering. In an odd twist, G-d is never mentioned in this story. In this case Esther has to act to change the course of history. She had to risk her life to save the life of her people. Story of Esther

But she has to do more than that. The first time she overcomes her fear and faces the King, asking for her people to be saved, the king puts a stop to villain, but does nothing to change the decree of death that the Jewish people face. I always thought this was odd, that she has to ask twice, and that the king seems bored with the issue the second time she asks. He seems to feel that having killed the villain, the story is over, even if the decree that everyone in the country can rise up and kill the Jews. Finally though, he says that she and her uncle can issue a decree that the Jews can protect themselves on the first day of the attack. Again, this is a bit odd, since the decree allows the country to kill Jews on two days. So for a third time Esther must ask for the ability to prevent the slaughter by allowing the Jews to defend themselves.

Esther has to do more than just face her own fears, she must admit that this is her task to do. She became the queen in part by hiding behind a mask, one that hid her Jewishness, her uniqueness. Now she has to take off that mask and stand before the king as her true self. She must accept that she will not be saved if she does nothing and continues to hide. She must change how she views herself, which means remembering the past in a different way. In the past she was a dutiful niece who did what her uncle told her. She could lean on others for advice and guidance. But know she must stand on her own, make her own plan, take her own risks. She must remember her inner strength, remember that she has an important part to play in this story.

This is the soul of an adventuress, the soul of an adventure. We must remember that we are willing to be our true self, willing find our own sense of grace under pressure, willing to understand that the risk to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom (Anais Nin).

 Esther is told that she can stay safe, but perhaps this is what she was born to do. Her uncle says that someone else might rise up and save the Jewish people, but she will have missed her chance to live her part of the story, to live her life mission.   

Try it. Remember that you are brave. Remember that you have a soul craving that must be heeded....a craving to live life fully. A craving to be the person you would have been if you had not learned to be afraid.

My dress is not alone

I just saw this on a website, and have to say that I am glad someone else in on board!
another traveling dress

Maybe we could have a convention for traveling wedding dresses! Anyone want to join?