LIKE A LOOSE FLOORBOARD

I just got an email from my oldest friend Sydonia. We met when I was six months old. She was the 'older woman', being already a year old. The delicious part of this story is that for the past...er...lotsa decades, we have stayed great friends. She lives in the States and here I am in Jerusalem. But thanks to email, etc. communication is a daily joy.

Today she wrote 'the past is the past, but it is like that loose floorboard you never see but when you step on it always hits you in the face'!

I thought whoa, I can relate to that. Things you did because you had to do them; people you hurt without meaning to, who, nevertheless got hurt; loose ends that suddenly show up demanding attention.

The important part of the quote, in my opinion, is that you always get hit in the face. Right in the kisser. Can't ignore it. Nose bleeding. Seeing stars.

And you feel hurt and guilty and uncomfortable because you did what you had to do, and you did the best you could do under the circumstances.

Then you start blabbering and trying to explain yourself. The end result is you still feel bad.

Especially when the person pointing a finger at you is your now grown up kid. And they do. It's like they sort of have to clear the slate. Whammo. And they go back to approximately when the wheel was invented.

I raised my kids never to tell a lie. So instead I nearly had a heart attack a zillion times when they came to tell me the truth.

'That's nice honey, thanks for telling me.' And run for the Xanax.

We can handle our kids. Why? Because they love us. And they forgive us. And they turn into us.

But what are we going to tell our future generations? How come a politician automatically loses his conscience and sense of right and wrong the second his tush fits into that government seat?

And if he is the daddy and we are the mommy, don't we have an obligation to at least point out the mistake?

Because I can promise you, the kids are going to come home with all our faults and...yup, right in the face.

It is raining in Jerusalem. Yahooooooooooooo. So, I am off to make a pot of bean soup. Doesn't cold and rain feel like bean soup? I'm making enough...you're all welcome to join us.

Shavuah tov.

Have a great day...stay safe...and thanks for dropping in.