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Oct. 20, 2006
Nu, why do Jews fly south?
It's all about pampering, poolside fun and visits with the family.
LISA Z. SEGELMAN
You've heard of snowbirds, but what about snow babes? We're the
children and grandchildren of snowbirds who visit our wintering
parents in the sunbelt each year.
Getting there from snowy climates is one thing. Getting through
what I call "Checkpoint Charlie Katz," the guard house
at Tivoli, my parents' gated community, is another. To visit my
mother and father, I have to show a picture ID to a uniformed guard
in a green beret every time I come in. It keeps the riff-raff out
and the Mah Jongg tiles accounted for.
Once in the gates, my parents welcome six grandchildren, two children,
and two in-law kids to their lakeview home with a pantry full of
food and a promise of fun. Like other visiting families, when we
go out, we're three generations travelling around as one unruly
unit. At restaurants, the kids eat fast. The grandparents take their
time.
"My dad's a slow eater," I tell the waiter at Flakowitz,
a deli that serves complimentary marble cake with breakfast.
"We hang all the slow eater's pictures in the kitchen,"
retorts the waiter.
While the waiters may have limited patience for extended families,
retired parents are out to pamper their offspring. Visiting snowbirds
isn't an obligation vacation anymore. It's more like a "many-expenses-paid
luxury vacation.
"We send the kids separately for some unadulterated grandparent
time," said Meri Pensack of Needham, Mass. "They eat waffles
and ice cream for dinner, go shopping with someone else paying and
generally get spoiled."
"My parents babysat for three days while we went off just the
two of us," said Stephanie Wichansky of Randolph, N.J., who
visits both her parents and in-laws during the same vacation.
Winchansky's mother-in-law, Diane, has turned her garage in her
golf and tennis retirement village into a carpeted playroom.
"The kids dance, bounce, play ball – and no one ever says
no," said Diane. The room lies fallow for the other 50 weeks
of the year.
While the accommodations work – thanks to pull-out couches
– the mix of ages, stages and idiosyncrasies during family
visits can be trying.
"My mom's husband comes into our room for his shoes at 5:30
a.m.," said Maddy Friedman of Edison, N.J. "Norman's a
great guy, but he thinks everyone gets up at that hour."
For some adult kids, it's been decades since they've lived with
their parents. They may have forgotten their house rules, or don't
realize how set in their ways their parents have become.
"My mother-in-law has an imaginary line in her villa that you
can't cross with food," said Cindy Getzoff of Plainview, N.Y.
"She's sure she'll get ants if we go over that line."
Rather than get into neatness squabbles with my own fastidious parents,
I stay a step ahead. We keep our suitcases in the garage and change
clothes in front of their car. I can be as messy as I please until
my father comes out with the recyclables.
In one breath, my dad complains that "people" read the
daily newspaper and don't put the sections back neatly, if at all.
In the next breath, he expresses the happiness he feels sharing
quality and quantity time together.
"Families are so spread apart now," he says, "and
the years fly by. Even in a week or two, we can learn a lot about
each other."
"It's a highlight," says my mom.
On the way home, my nine-year-old daughter asks why we have to live
in New Jersey.
"I want to go back to Nanny's and play at the pool," says
her younger sister.
"We all do," adds my older son with authority.
And we will go back. The weather in places like Florida, Arizona
and California is an obvious draw, but visiting snowbird parents
is about more than that. It's about making memories, coupled with
the joys and frustrations of family.
Lisa Z. Segelman is a freelance writer living in Randolph,
N.J. She frequently contributes to Jewish newspapers in the United
States and Canada and can be reached at [email protected].
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