health

Positives of being older

While some seniors see growing old as a negative, it really is an adventure, said clinical psychologist Miguel Mendez, a facilitator for the Jewish Seniors Alliance of Greater Vancouver’s Peer Support Services program.

Mendez was the featured speaker at the March 28 JSA-Snider Foundation Empowerment Series lecture, which took place over Zoom. His theme? The “Positive Adventures of Being an Older Adult.”

The program was cosponsored by JSA, Jewish Family Services and the Peretz Centre for Secular Jewish Culture. It was opened by Gyda Chud, coordinator of the JSA’s program committee, and concluded with a Q&A facilitated by Tamar Stein, coordinator of the seniors group at JFS.

Mendez shared how he was close to his grandmother and how well she had organized the last 10 years of her life: she volunteered at a stationery shop, loved to dance with her grandchildren and to travel and visit family; she was passionate about talking with people.

How should we feel about growing older? he asked. Should we be afraid, uncertain, reluctant or should we interpret the changes in a positive way? To get to the answers of these questions, he asked another: What is the difference between an emotion and a feeling? The difference is in the interpretation, he said.

The cultural value placed on beauty and youth contrasts with the wisdom and guidance that comes with aging, Mendez argued. All of us will die eventually and ageism ignores this fact, he said. In his view, we need to regard aging as a gift and an opportunity to age with vitality. Seniors definitely experience loss of energy and of physical abilities, he admitted, but they can maintain vitality with friends and family.

Purpose is the most important part of aging (and life overall), said Mendez. If we lose purpose, we can lose our sense of well-being. Currently, there is an epidemic of loneliness among seniors that can lead to physical and cognitive decline. To try and avoid this decline, Mendez suggested “the three Gs”: grow friendships, good relationships and get along well. We should continue making new friends and developing worthwhile relationships, he said. We need to laugh, have fun and enjoy life – take risks. These efforts will give purpose to life, he said, and attitude follows purpose in making life enjoyable.

In the Q&A, Grace Hann, JSA senior peer support services trainer and supervisor, asked about combating ageism. Mendez said that ageism is learned behaviour and that we should listen to our own values and not societal ones.

Tammi Belfer, JSA board president, asked about strategies to keep a person engaged and participating. While Mendez suggested that people should make an effort to participate in activities, because it is, generally, good for them, people should also make sure to give themselves breaks from taking part, ie. take some days off.

Larry Shapiro, an immediate past president of JSA, stressed that there should be purpose in people’s activities and that people shouldn’t do things just to keep busy. We need to feel fulfilment, he said.

Stein wrapped up the event, thanking the speaker and the 60 participants. She noted that the talk had been recorded and would be on JSA’s website in May.

Shanie Levin is a Jewish Seniors Alliance Life Governor. She is also on the editorial committee of Senior Line magazine.

Caring in times of need

Chaplain Sari Shernofsky (photo by Norwegian Cruise Line)

Earlier this month, Sari Shernofsky described her experiences as a chaplain in a Zoom lecture called Stories from a Narrow Bridge: Meeting People in Time of Need. The talk’s title comes from a quote by Reb Nachman of Breslov: “All the world is just a narrow bridge and the main thing is to have no fear at all.” For Shernofsky, a recent transplant to Victoria from Calgary, those words were a call to pursue training as a multifaith hospital chaplain.

Shernofsky’s talk was part of Kolot Mayim Reform Temple’s current lecture series, Building Bridges: Hineini – Answering the Call to Heal the World. It took place on Jan. 8.

Shernofsky worked in hospital and hospice settings for 15 years, with the objective of offering compassionate care to those in need. She also served as the Calgary Jewish community chaplain where, in addition to visiting individuals, she helped set up support groups and various training workshops for synagogues that wanted to become involved in community care.

According to Shernofsky, to care for others in their time of need – whether it be an illness, end-of-life care or simply to connect with those who are isolated or alone – is not a choice but an obligation she views as a profound Jewish value.

A chaplain provides spiritual and emotional support to people in institutional settings. Healthcare chaplains, such as Shernofsky, are trained to work with people of different faiths. Though derived from a Christian word, a current use of chaplain encompasses the work done by spiritual-care providers. Many who go into the field do so later in life, as life experience is advantageous to the job. Shernofsky had worked in the corporate world before entering the chaplaincy. “I wanted at a certain point to work with my heart and not my head – to [be able to] look back at the end of my life and say I did something to help someone else that was meaningful,” she said.

“Maybe we are the bridge, and we are reaching out our hands to others – that is basically what a chaplain does. And there is a chaplain in all of us, to reach out our hands and make tikkun olam [repairing the world] happen,” she said.

As she explains it, her job was to visit people and let them take her into their world. Among the visits was one to someone she met while studying to be a chaplain. One evening, at midnight, she received a message on her pager notifying her that the daughter of an elderly evangelical man was looking for a Bible so she could read scripture to him. Once brought, the Bible did not create the desired effect, so the daughter asked for a hymnbook. Shernofsky returned with a hymnbook, which didn’t work either.

Silence ensued. Shernofsky finally walked over to the head of the bed and placed her hand on the man’s forehead. “I told him what a special life he led and how loved he was. I talked about the family being around and how much love was surrounding him. As I was talking gently to him, the daughter and her friends started humming ‘Amazing Grace’ in the background. I had a back-up group. And it was the most magical moment, a holy, sacred moment. When it was over, the daughter had a wonderful smile on her face. We gave her a moment that she needed. I walked out of the room at two in the morning and I was higher than a kite.”

In another instance, a Jewish man in his 60s came into the hospital in critical condition. At a certain point, doctors considered removing his life support, but his rabbi objected and he remained in hospital for another month.

“I realized that the family had time during that month to get over the initial shock and get used to the idea. Perhaps more importantly, they did not have to make a decision to pull the plug. And I don’t know how families can do that, and how awful it must be because there has got to be a place in the back of your head that says, ‘What if I hadn’t?’ It was a real learning experience for me about timing.”

She also recounted the lesson she received from a woman who had been bedridden in a hospital for several years. The woman was adored by hospital staff, Shernofsky said. “I learned that, when you have so little, you can still make a difference.”

Shernofsky ended with a few words about medical assistance in dying, or MAiD. “People choose MAiD because they are afraid of suffering, they don’t want to be helpless and don’t want to be a burden to others,” she said. “Maybe some of those reasons are a bit misguided. What happens with MAiD is often poor information. People are not told what other supports are available, like palliative home care and hospice. There are lots of good things about hospice, people are not educated about them and that’s a shame.”

The next speaker in the series is McGill University’s Prof. Morton Weinfeld, who recently published an updated edition of his book, Like Everyone Else But Different. He speaks Feb. 5, 11 a.m. To register, visit kolotmayimreformtemple.com.

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

Reflecting on life of creativity

Earlier this year, Claire B. Cohen published a book of her 30-plus years as an artist. She made it for family and friends, as a record of her artistic legacy.

“Art is a powerful and a creative force of self-expression. To create art is to develop an ability to communicate visually what cannot be expressed in words.

“By creating the process of art, we change the way we see the world,” Claire B. Cohen told the Independent. “In understanding ourselves, we find areas where we feel limited. In understanding ourselves, we stand up for ourselves and can present ourselves authentically to others. An artist’s creation is unique and original to their work.”

Earlier this year, Cohen published a slim volume, mainly with images that burst from the pages, outlining her 30-plus years creating art. We glimpse the range of her work – landscapes, portraits, semi-abstracts, flowers, multimedia collages and a compartmental series, in which colourful abstract canvases were “connected sequentially in a zigzag for using piano hinges.” Flow and fun describe this series, her portraits – both colour and black and white – capture the personalities of her subjects, her landscapes and collages are bold and full of movement but also balance. The book touches on her work as an art therapist.

Originally from Israel, Cohen came to Canada in 1964. She studied fine arts at York University in Toronto and the University of Ottawa, and later earned her master’s in art therapy and counseling from U of O in 1987. She had many solo exhibits and group shows in Ottawa, and elsewhere, over the years. The book takes readers to 2006, with an exhibit list to 2009. She moved to Vancouver in 2012.

“I continued to paint after moving to Ottawa, but my move to Vancouver changed my focus, since joining my family had taken much of my time, being richly involved with newborn grandchildren,” said Cohen. “However, I still continued painting and showing new work in Vancouver galleries, as well as donating paintings to different organizations in Vancouver, such as hospitals, Louis Brier [Home and Hospital], friends, and creating more collages and multimedia-based work. I participated in group art shows and sold some to the public.”

Cohen said her reason for producing the book “was to create a place to keep all of my art as a legacy to leave to my family in remembrance of my story. COVID times were affecting my spirit, my mood was down and … the idea came about to focus on creating the book for my family and friends.”

During the pandemic, Cohen said she started to lose her connection to creativity.

“Friends cut off from each other, as much as children and family,” she said. “I slowly lost my energy and interest, as well as the need I once had to be close to my easel. The paints, the brushes, the colours all lost their meaning and the need I had to paint slowly deteriorated.”

She began to look back at her past, which, she said, “led me to wake up from my dormancy and questions such as ‘what is my meaning of life?’ I discovered my paintings in storage and wanted to create a book.

“I reflected further on my body of work and questioned: why did I dedicate my years to painting? Was there any purpose to it? The answer eventually arrived – yes. There are many purposes to be alive, and work as an artist, investing my life in art. In my case, most of it was to leave a memory to my next generation.”

Cohen’s most recent exhibit and sale was at Britannia Community Centre in 2021. Art can be cathartic, whether one is making it or experiencing it.

“The process of creating art has a great intensity and full force of emotions that lead to a freedom and release when the piece is complete,” she explained. “Looking at these pieces that I created many years ago leads to a sense of nostalgia and a softening of that intensity. These pieces have followed me through many moves and lives, and have a story of their own that has evolved with the emotions that once created them. The language of art cannot be explained in words, the language of these emotions is form, line, colour and brush strokes.”

This language can help heal, as Cohen well knows from her art therapy practice.

“The more we know about ourselves, the more we learn to grow and develop our abilities to stand our ground,” she said.

Describing art as “a powerful and unique way to explore our creative forces,” she explained that people who participate in art therapy use the “materials to express the self and communicate visually,” composing stories. In a group setting, they “collaborate and share with others … connect and integrate parts of his/her inner self, gain confidence and reduce stress in a supportive environment, with the aid of the instructor.”

It was both a dream and a need for Cohen to do art therapy and counseling.

“I realized that art is not just for selling and decorating homes, rather it was a way to find myself, to grow and see who I am, and to help others with their healing.”

To see Cohen’s body of work, go to clairebcohen.wixsite.com/portfolio/home.

Talking about addiction with L

Jewish Addiction Community Services (JACS) estimates that one in six members of the Jewish community in Metro Vancouver – or more than 4,000 people – are in need of support for dealing with substance use disorder. And yet, it is a topic that many of us find hard to talk openly about.

“I grew up around alcoholism in the home. There was shame in the family that dad had a drinking problem, and it affected my childhood, there is no doubt,” said L, who had the courage to speak with the Independent about their experience with alcoholism. “My dad was an angry drunk and he’d be embarrassing in public. He didn’t show up for commitments and didn’t turn out to be a very good father. I got to the point where I didn’t count on him because I couldn’t, and I resolved that with myself at a young age.

“Yet, there was a part of his life that was enticing and rather exciting for me,” added L, now a sober member of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) and a participant in JACS Vancouver. “When my father would pick me up on a Friday night, we would head to the bar. I thought it was something fun, better than my boring life at home.

“I would be excited to play the bar games and drink Shirley Temples, but I was way too young to be in that environment, way too young to have my views shaped by those experiences.”

Although these tavern trips took place when L was in junior high school, they considered it normal. “I didn’t realize there were no other kids in the bar. It seems weird to me now that no one objected,” L reflected.

L grew up in an environment where Judaism was not talked about much, either. “There was already a stigma within a stigma. There was a great shame about being Jewish. Being Jewish was rarely discussed, the same way Dad’s drinking was rarely discussed. Both topics became elephants in the room.

“I think what I draw from that experience is that I really believe the disease of alcoholism is genetic; it seems to run in families,” L said. “All I needed was that environment to stir up that excitement. My dad had a full wet bar at home, and I just loved it. I was drawn to it like a magnet because I associated it with fun Friday nights when Dad took us to the bar.”

L’s father’s drinking led to L’s mother divorcing him when L was 5. There remained trauma within the home – matters that were not openly discussed – and alcohol presented a means “to take the edge off.”

L established their own relationship with alcohol and began drinking and using drugs as much as possible.

“I was the perfect rebellious child,” L said. “I found ways to drink – whether stealing it from my parents’ liquor cabinet or sneaking out at night to hang out with older kids to drink. I used to hide it in my room. I kept a mason jar of whiskey in my closet.”

As L’s dependence increased so, too, did their obsession to drown out reality. “In high school, I would sneak out to drink and do drugs. I would put a trashcan beside my bed so I would have a place to throw up when returning home. This way, I wouldn’t risk waking my parents, because my bathroom was right next to their bedroom. I was pretty far gone by high school. The more I drank, the less I was interested in life around me. I dropped out of school and then left the house at 16.”

The reliance on alcohol remained for another 10 years. Family members disassociated themselves and L eventually sought help. By the time L “hit bottom,” a phrase used in AA to describe the lowest moment in an alcoholic’s drinking experience, they were “unemployed, suicidal and physically dependent on alcohol to function on a daily basis.”

“I didn’t fashion myself to be that bad, yet I didn’t have any friends left,” said L. “No social network, I was very isolated. I didn’t leave my house anymore. I didn’t check the mail. I couldn’t even go to the grocery store without being drunk or high. I ended up going to a counselor, who thought I should go to an AA meeting. I thought that sounded horrible; I was only 26. AA sounded like it was for a bunch of old men and winos who lived under a bridge. However, my counselor said, ‘It has to be better than the way you’re living now.’”

Though there were struggles initially in attending AA meetings, L picked up a desire chip (sobriety coin) in August 1997 and has not had a drink or drug since, recently celebrating 25 years of continuous sobriety. L remains active in AA, and sponsors others who are looking for relief from their alcoholism.

AA, though it often holds meetings in churches, is a non-denominational program. “I am very steeped in Alcoholics Anonymous and that’s my central connection with sobriety,” L said. “It wasn’t until a Jewish friend in AA told me about JACS that I was able to reconcile my long-standing concern with the Christian side of AA.”

After attending some JACS meetings, L felt relieved that they could talk openly about their Judaism, which had been a sticking point for L in AA. Through JACS, L was introduced to the book Twelve Jewish Steps to Recovery, by Rabbi Kerry M. Olitzky and Dr. Stuart A. Copans.

“Just reading the foreword to that book helped me better understand that AA’s founder, Bill W., was only using the God of his understanding, which happened to be based in Christianity, to write the outline for sobriety in the AA literature.”

This realization was a profound moment for L, since they always “railed against [the Christian] part of the AA program,” saying “that never felt right.”

“All of a sudden,” L said, “I realized that AA wasn’t Christian at all, only Bill’s concept of his higher power was. AA allows me to choose the concept of my own higher power, which is based in Judaism.”

Becoming more involved with JACS has opened a whole new perspective for L, which was not found in AA meetings alone. “I couldn’t be more grateful for finding this missing piece of the puzzle at JACS and for the continued support of Shelley Karrel, who runs the Vancouver chapter,” said L, who attributes this shift to becoming more involved in the Jewish community and reconnecting with their lost Judaism.

“I would not have had this spiritual awakening without being more connected to my community and being introduced to JACS,” L said. “Being able to finally connect my sobriety with Judaism feels like coming home for me.

“When I think about my father’s demise – a sad and lonely alcoholic death – I know that could have been my fate as well. There isn’t a day that goes by without being reminded of where I came from and how grateful I am that I survived. I did not have to die by suicide, or alone with a bottle hidden away in my closet. I was given a new life. A sober life.

“Thinking about drinking is the furthest thing from my mind today,” said L. “It used to be the only thing I thought about 25 years ago. The obsession has been removed. I am completely safe and sound when it comes to alcohol now, as long as I stay active in AA and keep on the path of spiritual growth.”

For more information on available resources and support – within and beyond the Jewish community – visit jacsvancouver.com.

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

Dealing with addiction

Rabbi Allan Finkel of Winnipeg’s Temple Shalom spoke about addiction in the Jewish community and Jewish-based recovery during a Nov. 6 Zoom presentation organized by Kolot Mayim Reform Temple in Victoria.

The talk was the first of Kolot Mayim’s 2022/23 lecture series entitled Hineini: Answering the Call to Heal the World. It widened the definition of addictions to go beyond those that are substance-based to include dozens that are behavioural. Finkel also explored new research on the causes of addiction, particularly childhood trauma.

“My name is Allan and I am an addict,” he began. “This was a huge hineini, when I first said ‘here I am.’ This was my declaration 13 years ago. At that time, hineini meant here I am at the bottom of a drug addiction, I am broken and I am open to an unknown path that might lead to recovery.”

That path, starting at Narcotics Anonymous, would take him on a spiritual journey, reconnecting him with his Judaism and leading him to become a rabbi.

For his rabbinical program, Finkel wrote his thesis on addictions in the Jewish community. “I was curious to know what we might learn as rabbis, and how we can carry our journey forward in terms of serving our congregations,” he said. “It is a mental health issue, and there wasn’t very much known about it…. And there are certain issues, particularly within the Jewish community, that made it a topic that I wanted to explore.”

Finkel discussed a 1962 study of the Jewish community in the United States that tried to find out what percentage of the Jewish community was addicted to drugs and/or alcohol. The answer was zero, compared to a 10% addiction rate in the overall population. Clearly, the study indicated a denial within the Jewish community that Jews can also be addicts. A 1995 study in the United Kingdom produced similar results.

Beginning in the early 2000s, research began to demonstrate that, to understand addictions, one needed to look beyond substances and towards behavioural addictions, which can encompass many areas: shopping, food, internet and gambling, among them. More recently: cellphone use, online gaming and video gaming.

From this standpoint, the number of people demonstrating addictive behaviour reaches 47%, according to studies Finkel cited, though he suggested the number is likely far higher. A commonality among people with addictive behaviours is the inability to stop, no matter what harm it does to those around them and to themselves.

Returning to the denial of addiction in the Jewish community, Finkel proposed that one cause is the long-standing fear of shame, which could be triggered by an admission of a problem at a synagogue, Jewish school or other institution. Looking at areas of the Torah, such as the story of Noah, he explained, one sees that “the Jewish denial of addiction is social and cultural, it is not religious in orientation.”

Within the past decade, there has been a broader consensus within Jewish institutions that addiction is not a moral failing, but instead can be caused by the same factors that result in other mood and psychological disorders.

Using the work of Vancouver physician Dr. Gabor Maté, Finkel noted that all addictive behaviour can be traced to something that happened when a person was very young. “Not everyone who was traumatized becomes an addict, but every addict was traumatized.”

One conclusion Finkel draws is the need to destigmatize the word “addiction.” He stressed that an addiction, as stated in the American Psychiatric Association’s 2013 manual on mental disorders, is a means of coping no different from any other mental health disease.

A second takeaway is that adults and not children bear much of the responsibility for addictions; in other words, no child ever dreams of becoming an addict. Children do not have the rational skills to take on and cope in a non-destructive way with trauma that happens to them.

Further, Finkel argued that real recovery is not simply about stopping addictive behaviour, but about going back to one’s past and taking care of the fears and resentments of childhood, as well as the habits that build up over a lifetime.

Finkel told the audience that it has been more than 10 years after his last relapse. He said the rewards of recovery have been immense and have brought incredible relationships with his children, himself and life.

Finkel is an outspoken advocate for interfaith engagement and for the building of strong bridges and partnerships across all denominations within the Jewish community. He currently chairs the Winnipeg Council of Rabbis.

A video of Finkel’s lecture is posted at kolotmayimreformtemple.com.

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

*******

Some resources

Rabbi Allan Finkel provided this list of resources for those experiencing addiction and those close to them:

Crisis and suicide line: 1-800-784-2433
Jewish Addiction Community Service (JACS) Vancouver 778-882-2994
Mental health support: 310-6789 (no area code required)
Umbrella Society: support, outreach, recovery, counseling, groups, harm reduction and education, umbrellasociety.ca
Our Jewish Recovery: Facebook group, with 16 active Jewish recovery meetings and classes, virtual retreats, individual and group coaching, led by Rabbi Ilan Glazer
Rabbi Mark Borovitz, Finding Recovery and Yourself in Torah: A Daily Spiritual Path to Wholeness
Rabbi Kerry Olitzky and Dr. Stuart Copans, Twelve Jewish Steps to Recovery, and other of Olitzky’s books, including with co-authors
Rabbi Paul Steinberg, Recovery and Jewish Spirituality: Reclaiming Hope, Courage and Wholeness
Rabbi Shais Taub, God of our Understanding: Jewish Spirituality and Recovery

– SM

Overcoming diabetes

Two years ago, I was 58 years old, weighed 200 pounds and was in a wheelchair because of chronic ankle pain when my doctor told me I had diabetes. Six months later, I was 20 pounds lighter and my blood glucose level had lowered so much that I was considered pre-diabetic. This meant that diabetes was no longer harming my body.

One of the first things I did was to cut out refined sugar, honey and junk food from my diet. This was not easy, as I grew up with a mother whose idea of making you feel better was to give you food like waffles with maple syrup and Sephardi delicacies like zangoola – deep fried pastry filled with treacle – on Hanukkah. But, with the help of a dietician, I lowered the amount of carbohydrates and sugar that I ate. She said that I could have artificial sweetener in my tea, so I decided to do that.

I noticed that food tasted better when my overall diet had very little sugar added. I also made sure to have a lot of vegetables with my meals. I treated myself to a simple spinach omelette with feta cheese and tomatoes almost every week.

I ate strawberries, blueberries and cantaloupe instead of high fructose fruits like watermelon. But I made sure to cheat a bit, too, at least once a week, with a few squares of fruit-and-nut dark chocolate. Whenever I went kayaking and got a good workout for an hour-and-a-half, I rewarded myself with a small chocolate ice cream.

If I can’t see it I won’t eat it! My husband eats ice cream and I asked him to put it at the very back of the freezer so I can’t see it. He also has a special cubbyhole where he puts his snacks that are high in carbs.

I spent some time on the Diabetes Canada website and found a chart there that tells you what food to eat some of the time, what food to eat most of the time and what foods to avoid altogether, which was very helpful.

Going to restaurants is still possible. When I order salads, I always ask the server to leave the dressing on the side, since dressings are sometimes high in sugar. I also found out that all sit-down restaurants have a nutrition guide, which will tell you how many carbohydrates or sugars are in their foods.

The second thing I did was find a diabetes clinic that had a case manager and an endocrinologist that I could see for free. I can’t say how important it was to find a specialist who knew so much about the disease and was so optimistic that I could lower my blood glucose level. He gave me a blood glucose monitor for free for two weeks and, during this time, I found out which foods spiked my levels and which foods didn’t. Everyone is different.

It took about six weeks but after trying three different drugs I was finally given one I could tolerate and that I could get on special authority so I didn’t have to pay for it. My pharmacist insists that it was the drug that lowered my blood sugar level from 6.8 to 6.2 in six months. I think other factors helped, too.

I found that exercising for even 15 minutes a day made a difference in my weight. There are unlimited exercises on the internet that you can do while sitting. And if you Google “exercises for seniors,” you will find many examples.

I started swimming twice a week. Swimming increases blood flow and tones almost all of the muscles in your body. Also, I figured that during the two hours I was getting ready to swim, then swimming, then going into the whirlpool and sauna – if that didn’t take the pounds off, at least I wasn’t eating for that amount of time!

I tried five different indoor swimming pools in Vancouver and they all had lifts that take you out of your wheelchair and into the pool. It’s different at outdoor pools though. It’s best to call ahead and see if they have the equipment that’s required.

I found social media helpful, as well, especially Facebook, since there are a few different pages for people who have diabetes. It was helpful to know that I was not alone – while also being cautious, since there were people who really wanted to make money off of my condition.

Now I am 60 years old and I can walk again. I am hoping to lose more weight so that I will be able to walk pain-free. I’m still getting medical treatments and I am hopeful that I will slowly but surely get rid of my diabetic belly. Here’s to hoping!

Cassandra Freeman is a freelance writer living in Vancouver.

Being vs. feeling old

Being old! That is so different from feeling old. Being old is what I think of other people, or what others may think of me. Feeling old is so much more personal. Feeling old is something that has crept up on me so much more recently.

I have noticed being old for a long time, as the ranks of my contemporaries has been thinning out. But now, I am noticing how the distances I want to cover, have to cover, seem so much further away. I am much slower in my reach, slower to pick up things, slower to get up and go. When did I develop that tremor that I never noticed before? Why do I not recall the name, the word, that I used to instantly recall? What’s happening? I must be getting old. It makes me feel old.

I have always reveled in the richness of my memories – memories of things that so many around me have not the least idea about. My past has become an irrelevancy. I have had to comfort myself with the private knowledge that the present all of us so take for granted is based on what I and my contemporaries had built so solidly in the past. If we were to dare recount our triumphs, we would be written off as old bores.

I find I now have a reluctance to add new articles to my closet. What I have there are the things I put on like old companions, which wrap me in comfort. The odds and ends I have accumulated are the precious reminders of my days of derring-do, when I traveled to the heart of darkness without a thought to the dangers that were present on every side. Those days we knew we were immortal.

Like the just desserts for the conquering hero, I earned my reward, albeit at the age of 71. Correcting the errors and omissions of a callow youth, lacking the courage of my convictions, throwing caution to the winds, I gained the love and companionship of my true love after an interregnum of more than 50 years. Thereafter, I had to learn how to appreciate the needs of others as the road to ultimately meeting my own. It took the reasoning and wisdom of advancing age, and altered priorities, to gain the knowledge that enabled me to reengineer the person that I was.

Each day, we launch our enterprise to meet the challenges of life. If the objective is to fill the pantry or the fridge, we count it a victory if we return home without having forgotten any of the items on the grocery list we carried in our minds. If we meet up with others to share a community activity, we count ourselves brilliant if we remember the names of our comrades. We have taken to the practice of notation to ensure we do not miss birthdays and anniversaries of even our closest kin. If all else fails, we resort to internet searches to compensate for any breaches we may come across in the things we surely know by heart. It is always a joint product as we seek to light the fires of memory in each other.

We are engaged in the habit of doing puzzles. I hate puzzles, but they are one of the medicines I faithfully take to counter the breaches in my armour that have accumulated over time. We exercise. Ditto to my personal appreciation of the activity. We socialize. I am most happy at home with a book or an exciting mystery or bang-up violence on my TV.

I do like to be surrounded by younger folk. That gives me a charge. The spontaneity of children is just marvelous to behold. And they are so beautiful to behold. I am sure having them in one’s life keeps one young, even if they sometimes tire you out. It is a good tired!

Generally, I happily do all those things the doctors tell us are good for our health. But no serious food exclusions. I am sure I will expire consuming one of those things we have been warned is bound to bring us to the edge of existence. I bear these admonitions in mind but am an inveterate cheater. Even if the time comes sooner, we have had a good run and I will go out smiling. (Don’t tell my wife, because she absolutely won’t hear of my going off without her.)

Some of us may miss the cut and thrust of being out in the world, struggling with the demons we all have to face, but it is a relief, in the end, to no longer worry about what might be happening behind our backs. We gaze out at the world more or less secure.

Being old without feeling old is the secret, isn’t it?

Max Roytenberg is a Vancouver-based poet, writer and blogger. His book Hero in My Own Eyes: Tripping a Life Fantastic is available from Amazon and other online booksellers.

Still waiting for knee surgery

I am not known for my patience. And I’ve been preparing for my long-awaited knee replacement surgery for nearly three years.

I’ve acquired all the necessary post-surgical equipment: expensive ice and compression machine, bath transfer bench, walker, crutches, cane, toilet riser, reacher, long-handled shoehorn, high density cushion, a chair with arms. I attended all the prehab and pre-surgery webinars, got my SPARC parking pass, watched all the recommended surgical and how-to videos (several times each), made a list of what to bring to the hospital and rescheduled a host of medical appointments and personal commitments. I even arranged to “foster” some of my furniture out to friends to clear the way for my anticipated post-surgical walker/crutches. I had meetings with the surgeon, pre-admission nurses, anesthesiologist, physiotherapists and an occupational therapist. I was more prepared for my surgery than Eisenhower was for D-Day. I repeat, I am not a patient woman.

Staff at Oasis (Osteoarthritis Service Integration System) and ASAP (Arthritis Surgical Assessment Program) are my new BFFs. They told me about assistlist.ca, a website that lists used medical equipment for sale. I learned that the Red Cross Health Equipment Loan program has become stricter about who it lends to. It used to be that everyone got their equipment there. Since COVID, anyone who wants to borrow from there has to sign a waiver explicitly disclosing their need for assistance. Luckily, I don’t need their services.

I’m armed with more resources than I know what to do with, so it just makes sense to share them. There are lots of medical supply stores, but the ones who have the greatest variety are Lancaster Medical on West Broadway and Macdonald’s Prescriptions (in the Fairmont building). Best place to buy high-density cushions (and any kind of foam) is Discount Foam on Fraser Street near 33rd. Need an ice/compression machine? Go to the source: ProCare Medical Inc. Just FYI, the Polar Care Wave machine combines the ice therapy and the compression that targets not only swelling but also pain. Apparently, it’s a must-have for knee replacement surgery.

If you have an extended medical plan, check to see what they cover, because this equipment can be expensive. Also check if they cover a private or semi-private hospital room. And don’t forget to get a doctor’s note indicating that you need this equipment for a knee or hip replacement, and include this with your extended health claim. My health carrier insisted that I buy from an actual medical supply store (not, say, Facebook Marketplace) and that the receipt indicate the source, and that my name be on the receipt. You might want to buy your equipment secondhand to save some money, but just remember that your extended health won’t cover it.

I learned that a high-density cushion, which I’ll need post-surgery, is not a benefit covered by my health plan. I also learned that, after knee replacement, all seating must be two inches higher than the top of my knee. That includes the toilet, the bed, all chairs and couches, and the car seat. Seriously, the logistics of preparing one’s home (and car) before surgery seem never-ending. Like making sure that everything you need on a daily basis is within counter-height reach. No squatting to get toilet paper out from under the sink – unless you have a reacher. No going to restaurants without your high-density cushion. No bending over to put on your socks. The list goes on. And on.

To say that I was ready for surgery would be this century’s understatement. Then I got COVID.

Don’t ask me how. It’s one of the world’s great mysteries. I am vaccinated five times. After intense speculation, the only culprits I can point to are either the physiotherapist appointment I had (both of us wearing KN-95 masks) or an elevator (me masked, of course).

It was a Friday morning and I just thought my allergies were acting up. Or maybe I’d been mouth-breathing at night – slight sore throat, stuffy nose, tired, a bit of a dry cough and a headache. Minor stuff. Until I did a COVID rapid home test. I tested positive. I immediately called the urgent care clinic and got a PCR test, phoned my gastroenterologist and proactively got a prescription for the antiviral medication Paxlovid, and waited. Less than 24 hours later, when positivity was confirmed, I started on the medication and was better in five days. My surgery was scheduled for four weeks later – and this was a problem, as I will explain.

I want to make one thing clear. I do not blame my orthopedic surgeon or the anesthesiologist for my knee replacement surgery being postponed three times. I do blame COVID. I do blame miscommunication. And I definitely blame an over-burdened healthcare system. Primarily, the latter.

My husband and I have been crazy cautious and isolating like nobody’s business during the pandemic. The wild card is that I’m immunocompromised, so I’m at higher risk for any kind of infection. But nobody has been more careful than us. In fact, I’m pretty sure I spent more money on KN-95 facemasks, latex gloves and hand sanitizer in the past two-and-a-half years than I have on clothing. By a long shot. Until this point, we went nowhere, saw no one and did nothing. But, as COVID eased up a bit during the summer, so did we. But incrementally. Literally by centimetres. I met a few friends for dinner outside. We traveled to Victoria for four days. Wild and crazy stuff by all accounts.

Having just been told for the third time that my surgery would be postponed, I was devastated. It had to do with a seven-week waiting period post-COVID before getting an anesthetic or surgery, because of the risk of blood clots and pneumonia. Immunocompromised … blah, blah, blah.

All this is to say that I should have listened to a wise woman long ago, who advised that I “get comfortable with uncertainty.” Umm, OK. How exactly do I do that? Apparently, you breathe. And wait. And breathe. And practise mindful meditation. Maybe get a little anxious. Breathe some more. Meditate. Eat. Maybe get a bit more anxious. Breathe. Wait some more. I’m now an expert breather.

The only thing that helps me is holding firm to my belief that nothing happens by accident. Everything happens for a reason. Usually one to which I am not privy. But still. Enter faith and trust – stage right, stage left, stage centre. That’s really my only life raft. Luckily, it’s sturdy and solid and mine for the taking. Anytime, anywhere. Now that’s what I need to practise. Oh yeah, and breathing. Meanwhile, I’ll continue cooking and eating. Stay tuned.

Shelley Civkin, aka the Accidental Balabusta, is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the Richmond Review. She’s currently a freelance writer and volunteer.

Teaching about charity

Ellen Schwartz, founder of Project Give Back. (photo from LinkedIn)

Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver’s Choices, the largest celebration of women’s philanthropy in the community, takes place Nov. 3 at Congregation Beth Israel. At the event, featured speaker Ellen Schwartz, founder of Project Give Back, will talk about raising a son with a neurodegenerative disease and how her son Jacob helped her “live a more grounded, purposeful and present life.”

Project Give Back is targeted to elementary students in Ontario. Established in 2007 by Schwartz, a Toronto-based teacher, community advocate and mother of three children, it started as a program she created for her fourth grade classroom and it is designed to teach compassion and concern for community. The program, which selects and trains teachers to deliver its specialized curriculum, runs weekly from October to May in partner schools. In it, students help do the teaching by explaining the value of a worthy cause to their fellow classmates. Since its inception, Project Give Back has helped bring awareness to hundreds of charities.

“The beauty about Project Give Back is children teach us about what matters to them, through their involvement with a charity that they or their family are connected to,” Schwartz told the Independent.

Fifteen years after starting the program, Schwartz said many early participants continue to be actively involved in charitable work as they enter into young adulthood.

“We definitely have seen many of our alumni actively giving and making change in their communities,” she said. “Some of our graduates have published books, with proceeds donated to their chosen and personal causes.”

Some of the many grassroots charities to which Project Give Back has recently brought attention are Sending Sunshine, a program directed at curbing loneliness in the elderly population; Nanny Angel Network, which provides free in-home child care in Canada; and the Super Sophia Project, a group whose goal is to offer hope to children and their families battling cancer.

As Project Give Back bases much of its lessons on personal connection and in-class discussions, it, like many organizations, was affected by the pandemic and had to shift its operations accordingly.

“We had to pivot quickly to online learning. All of a sudden, we looked at the windows of the students and we had family members attending lessons as well as pets, grandparents, etc. That was beautiful to see,” Schwartz recalled.

“Unfortunately, there was a tremendous gap in education and, while many schools were able to continue, almost at the switch of a button, others truly struggled. In these schools, often school was a safe place for many children and many didn’t have the opportunity to reset online quickly. We launched Project Give Back Connects during this time. This was a way to connect powerful messages and resources to classroom teachers, which they could access and share with their students.”

For her Vancouver presentation, Schwartz plans to discuss some of the life lessons she learned from her son Jacob, who died in 2019 at the age of 21. Only months after he was born, he was diagnosed with Canavan disease, which damages the brain’s nerve cells. Jacob wasn’t able to walk, talk or see.

“I will share the best piece of advice I was ever given. It was on a folded note left in my mailbox 25 years ago, [and] I still don’t know who left it there,” said Schwartz. “I will touch on tricks and tips to living a life filled with purpose and meaning as well as shaping grief in a manner that allows us to move forward.”

Currently, Project Give Back only operates in Ontario, but Schwartz is eager to investigate operating in Vancouver schools.

“Our plan is to continue to grow slowly and carefully, never compromising on the quality of our program,” she said. “Sometimes, bigger does not mean better. I would rather teach less children and do it well so that spark becomes a flame, rather than teaching more and hoping to ignite a spark.”

Schwartz also co-founded Jacob’s Ladder, Canadian Foundation for the Control of Neurodegenerative Diseases, with her husband Jeff in 1998. In its 21 years of operation, Jacob’s Ladder raised more than $3 million for research, education and awareness of neurodegenerative illnesses, as well as research into treatments.

Ellen Schwartz has written two books: Lessons from Jacob: A Disabled Son Teaches His Mother About Courage, Hope and the Joy of Living Life to the Fullest and Without One Word Spoken. She has been honoured by the Israel Cancer Research Fund, Ve’ahavta, Aish Toronto, Sick Kids Hospital, and Brilliant Minded Women. And she has been awarded a Queen’s Jubilee Medal, a Meritorious Service Decoration by the Governor General of Canada and a Canada 150 Exemplary Canadian Medal.

“I am hoping to make some new friends and inspire your community with a story I am honoured to be able to share,” Schwartz said, when asked about what she expects from her visit.

The community speakers participating in Choices this year are the daughters of Holocaust survivor Robert Krell: Shoshana Lewis, Simone Kallner and Michaela Singerman. They will share how they honour their father’s experience.

Also part of the Nov. 3, 5 p.m., event will be a marketplace including several local vendors.

Tickets for Choices are $60 and include dinner. However, there is a minimum donation of $154 to support the Federation annual campaign and, for first-time Choices attendees, a minimum donation of $36. Register at jewishvancouver.com/choices.

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

Talking with authors

The 35th annual Vancouver Writers Festival includes many members of the Jewish community among the more than 115 authors from across Canada and around the globe who will join the events on Granville Island and elsewhere Oct. 17-23.

The festival will celebrate the five shortlisted Scotiabank Giller Prize finalists; engage in conversations with Booker Prize-winner Douglas Stuart, as well as Canadian superstars Heather O’Neill, Billy-Ray Belcourt and Wayne Johnston. It’ll host conversations between emerging Canadian and American poets, novelists and memoirists, and feature flagship favourites like the Literary Cabaret, Sunday Brunch and Afternoon Tea.

The guest curator of this year’s festival is 2021 Scotiabank Giller Prize winner Omar El Akkad, who has invited a wide range of authors, including Noor Naga (Egypt), Elamin Abdelmahmoud (Ontario) and Threa Almontaser (United States) – and many others – to join him for six conversations that focus on home, identity and storytelling

Among the Jewish community members participating in the festival are Méira Cook, with her adult-young adult crossover novel, The Full Catastrophe, in Mecca, Mitzvah and Milestones, and in Wry Humour for Modern Life; Tilar J. Mazzeo (Sisters in Resistance: How a German Spy, a Banker’s Wife and Mussolini’s Daughter Outwitted the Nazis) speaks with Marsha Lederman (Kiss the Red Stairs: The Holocaust, Once Removed); Sarah Leavitt facilitates a workshop led by University of British Columbia’s creative writing department; and Guy Gavriel Kay (All The Seas of the World) takes part in Fabulous Historical Fantasy.

Lederman is one of the authors participating in the The Power of Story: Live Recording for CBC’s The Next Chapter, she hosts Generational Fiction: Stories of Lineage, History and Things Passed Down, and moderates Bestseller to Blockbuster. Actor, theatre critic and UBC professor emeritus Jerry Wasserman moderates Building Suspense, on writing thrillers, and Dr. Gabor Maté talks with Globe and Mail reporter Andrea Woo about his latest book, The Myth of Normal: Trauma, Illness and Healing in a Toxic Culture.

Festival tickets ($25) can be bought online at writersfest.bc.ca or at the event venue, starting 45 minutes prior to the performance. There are discounts offered for regular events to seniors (10%) and youth under 30 (50%).

– From writersfest.bc.ca