It’s about starting over . com

Last night, a good friend, Yitz Hochstein, died. He wasn’t much older than I, but it wasn’t a shock–his health had been deteriorating for a while.

Yitz was known among our local folk music community as one of our banjo players. His smiling face could be seen at almost all of our folk-music events and he was always supportive and encouraging. He loved food and cooking–if you were one of the lucky ones, you would be invited to the Hochstein’s for lunch or dinner where there would inevitably be five or six different main courses from which you could choose, each one delicious. Chinese cooking was his amazing specialty, and don’t even ask about Thanksgiving!

I first met Chana and Yitz when I moved with my then 12 and 14-year old sons to Ashdod. I had just separated from my then husband, was in dire financial shape, and was looking forward to beginning a brand-new life. Two months later, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and as soon as the Hochsteins heard about it, they came knocking on my door, bringing beautifully cooked meals from the community along with unwavering friendship and support. I hadn’t asked for it; it was a no-brainer for them. It’s just how they are. Because of Chana and Yitz, throughout one of the most difficult times of my life, my refrigerator was never empty and my heart was always full.

When I think about Yitz, I remember his pride as he told me how he had studied computer science before most people knew what a computer was. I remember his funny stories about his early years on a kibbutz when he first came to Israel, how one day, the sound of gravel crunching under his feet reminded him of snow back home and made him homesick. I remember the heartwarming story of how he proposed to Chana–he said that from the moment he met her, he knew they would marry. I remember the profound, teary love in his eyes when he spoke of the birth of his first grandchild.

And that infernal banjo!

Yitz, I hope you didn’t suffer too much. I’m glad you’re not suffering any more. Because you’re gone, a part of us is gone and we will miss you forever. Farewell my friend.

I often find that when I’m out and about and in an appreciative mood, people tend to give me things. I never expect it, they just do it for no apparent reason. It usually happens when I’m buying something I need, and the merchant will just throw in something extra or knowingly (they always tell me) not charge me for something. Today I was buying some green chard in a health-food store and after I paid, the owner said, “and help yourself to a fresh loaf of bread on the way out.” What a nice gesture! I did, and yes, it is fresh!

I needed to run some errands this morning and had decided to do them on foot instead of by car. I spent two hours walking around, popping in to various stores, pricing things, just looking. It was really nice. On the way back, I passed two little girls about two blocks from my home. They were both sitting on bikes and the older one was calling, “Eeeeeeemaaaaa,” (mommy) repeatedly in a pay-attention-to-me tone. The younger of the two was echoing the older’s call, but her face was glowing, her eyes were beaming, her tone was entirely different, and she held the handlebars of her bike in a posture of great pride. As I approached she looked me straight in the eye and said, “Were going on a trip!!!!” She was so happy and sweet. Her excitement was contagious and she didn’t think twice about sharing it with a stranger.

Give and get

What can we give someone during the course of a day, and how much will it cost us? A smile? A greeting? A CD? Half a bunch of fresh parsley or dill that will probably spoil and get thrown out anyway? If you believe that what you give out is returned to you, then giving will never cost–quite the opposite, you may even profit in the long run.

Unexpected gifts quite possibly the best kind!