OPINION

Our Disposable Parents

informed me that it was time for her
am the voice of my mother for
to move to Michigan. I would be
she can no longer speak for
lying
if I denied that I experienced
herself. If she could, this is
ambivalent
feelings. So I said, "You
what she would say:
don't
know
anyone in Michigan
"Where are the children? The ones
except
for
our
small family and our
we nurtured and cared for and sur-
friends."
Undaunted,
and with infi-
rounded with love. The
nite
wisdom
she replied,
ones we made sacrifices for
"Everyone loves a volunteer,
so that they could attend
and I am a volunteer."
good universities, therefore
To Michigan she came,
affording them opportuni-
to check out all of the facil-
ties we never had. How
ities that were available to
proud we were to attend
senior citizens. I made - a list
their graduations, make
of all the possible places
them beautiful weddings
and we set up appoint-
and indulge their children!
ments. She settled on the
But where are they now,
one she lived in for eight
ROB
ERTA
after they have put us in
years because the apart-
VIVI
ANO
senior citizen, assisted liv-
ments were beautiful and it
Speci al to
ing, and nursing care facili-
was only a seven-minute
The
Jew
ish
News
ties? Busy, too busy, or so
drive from my home.
they say."
She settled in and reorganized the
My mother never lived in Michi-
building a bit. "How can you have
gan. She lived in New York and then
such a lovely dining room without
in Florida, where she was active in
fresh flowers on the table?" she
various organizations, as well as
queried. They agreed and she
being a voracious reader and accom-
arranged the flowers for them every
plished china painter.
Friday morning.
My father died in 1978. The
Many of the residents complained
fiercely independent woman that she
about the food. "Don't complain to
was, she informed me that she would
one another!" she scolded. "We'll
remain in Florida and continue with
form a food committee," which she
her life and her activities. She point-
organized. She researched cultural
ed out to me that hei sister lived five
events available and soon had the
minutes away and that she had many
vans going on trips to the Detroit
good friends in the area.
Institute of Arts, coffee concerts at
Then nine years ago, she simply
Orchestra Hall, plays at Meadow
Roberta Viviano is a resident of Bing-.
Brook and the Fisher Theatre, etc.
ham Farms.
She formed a welcoming commit-

I

tee to greet each new resident and
personally invited each one to dine
with her at her assigned table for
their first dinner. It was important to
her that everyone feel comfortable.
She started a knitting group on
Friday afternoons. They knitted hats,
scarves, and gloves to be distributed
to the needy through Goodfellows.
On an outing to Meadow Brook,
her first summer in Michigan, one of
the women in the group fell and
injured herself. My mother called
911 and chose to ride with the
injured woman in the ambulance.
When she called from the hospital, I
immediately offered to come and get
her. She replied, "Her
children are too busy to
'C
come and someone
should stay with her;
she's in pain and terribly
upset." She called me at
1.0 p.m. to tell me that
she had arrived home
and also to ask, "What
could be so important
that children can't come
to the aid of a mother?
Where are their priori-
ties?"
After that incident, my mother
began pointing out those people
whose children rarely came to see
them and those with no visitors at
all. So often she would say to me,
"Let's take her out for lunch with us;
she never gets taken to lunch."
She was unrelenting in her dia-
logue: "Where are the children?

What could their mothers have done
that was wrong that they don't come
to see them? Don't they have con-
sciences, a sense of responsibility?
Who will speak for these people if
their children won't?"
For the next six years, I listened to
her diatribe. My mother became a
sounding board and advocate for
those residents whose children didn't
come, didn't listen.
But then my mother started "slip-
ping." She became forgetful and
often confused. She could no longer
live independently. Fortunately, the
facility where she lived had an assist-
ed living floor managed by a health
care agency. She was still
pretty lucid so I didn't
want to move her to a
different facility, there-
fore confusing her fur-
ther. So I moved her to
the assisted living floor.
She settled in and once
again started noticing
those people without vis-
itors. It was much easier
for me to notice also on
the self-contained floor.
While astonished and appalled by
my observations, my mother knew
the scenario only too well and did
what she had always done; invite
those people in for tea.
In January of this year, I went on
my annual "pilgrimage to Florida
for a week to visit my two elderly
aunts and my father's grave. I
returned home to discover that the

do they
have no
visitors?"

Photo by Glenn Triest

LETTERS

Detroiters Eric Weiss and Michael
Zakalik, at the JCC Maccabi Games
opening ceremonies.

9/4
1998

32 Detroit Jewish News

planned with real foresight and
taste.
The games began on Monday and
were so much fun to watch. The kids
were more excited about the sport of
socializing than their soccer. They
exchanged pins, clothes, attitudes
and e-mail addresses for a week.
They attended parties and saw sights
all over the city. It was a dream come
true for us to see thousands of Jewish
kids interacting so intensely and with
such pleasure. My daughter doesn't
have that dense Jewish population to
interact with at her school so she was
elated. I give kudos to you.
Thank you for the opportunity to
be part of a great event. Pat your-
selves on your backs for a job well
done. Kol ha kavod.
Nadine Melniker
Roslyn Harbor, N. Y.

Beth Israel
A Special Place

I want to thank you very much for
taking the time to include temple
Beth Israel in your synagogue list-
ings.
Having grown up in the Detroit
area, I was exposed to many different
congregations large and small. What
I found in Temple Beth Israel was
something I never expected to find. I
joined the temple for the same rea-
son many Jews join a congregation;
my daughter turned 6-years-old and
I wanted her "exposed to Judaism." I
arrived at a small congregation in a
small town and, well, I didn't expect
much.
But I found a warmth and a spiri-
tuality that I never felt at any syna-
gogue. My family was wrapped in a

community that I believe symbolizes
some of Judaism's greatest strengths.
We are part of a temple that logic
dictates probably should not be
around. Temple Beth Israel does not
just survive, it thrives. We would like
to share our temple with you and
your readers.
One hundred forty years ago,
Rabbi Isaac Meyer Wise rode on
horseback from Cincinnati to Jack-
son to consecrate Temple Beth Israel.
Much has come and gone, but Beth
Israel continues to be the center of
the Jackson Jewish community and a
symbol of Judaism's strength and
belief. On Sept. 12, we will celebrate
140 years of Jewish life in Jackson.
David Eizelman
Jackson

LETTERS

on page 34

