Purpose

I'm not a man of faith and wish I was. People who believe always seem to know the life path they're supposed to be on, and they do a great job of post facto description: "This happened this way since the Big Man decided..." I started wondering about this last evening, as I sat looking at the sunset at Miami Jewish Home, after visiting Ancient Mom. It was Passover week, and we began on Monday afternoon. D1 had spent the weekend with us, since her boyfriend decamped to Indiana to visit his family. She and the spoiled spaniel and Wifey and I stopped off at Canton for some food for the Olds. D1 set a lovely table in the gazebo, and Wifey fetched her father. My mother in law was also there, with BOTH her drivers, the friendly Jamaicans Stephen and Marcia. My mother in law made a seder plate, and we ate Cantonese and chatted about the holiday. My mother was on another planet mentally, though she DID enjoy the food. My father in law was in good spirits, although he told the same story about eating kosher vs non kosher in Israel while he was a soldier no fewer than 6 times. Tuesday we fetched D1 and drove to Aventura for a fun seder thrown by Stuart. We drank, and laughed, and Stuart charmingly had each of us read part of the story. Children played, and had a blast, and I chatted with old acquaintances Alan and Arthur -- both lawyers, from very different areas of practice. Alan refers cases, and hasn't seen the inside of the courtroom, while Arthur is the brainy appellate fellow. We all had a real good time -- Stuart is a wonderfully warm and loving fellow, and made all feel very much at home. I went back to MJH on Thursday, and Mom was very out of it. She was in bed, and didn't want to get up. I stayed about half an hour, and she chatted her platitudes that had no connection: "All we can do is what we can do..." Yesterday Wifey decided to visit her father late, so we had dinner and then set off for the Home. My haircutter Dania had told me about a new restaurant called Salvatore, and we tried it. The food was wonderful -- we immediately fell in love, and pledged to return. I had a glass of chianti, and later wished I had 2 or three. We arrived at the Home, and planned to fetch each of the Olds and meet in the gazebo. Mom was already in bed for the night, at 7pm, and didn't want to go anywhere. Wifey called and reported her father was the same -- bad mood, and not to be moved. Mom weakly chatted, and treated me to an in bed bowel movement she was oblivious to. I tried to ignore the stink, but it soon started making my just eaten chicken parm feel like a bad idea. I left, after asking the nurse to please go change her bedding... I sat outside, chatting on the phone with my California sister about our fading mother. Then it occurred to me: maybe I have all this extra time just so I can use it to visit Mom in her last weeks or months. If I were putting in the heavy hours like I used to at the office, or running between dance lessons and school functions like I did when the Ds were younger, I simply wouldn't have the time. But Wifey and I are empty nesters -- so we go. It's no fun, it saddens us, we'd rather be anywhere OTHER than MJH on a lovely Friday night, but I guess we figure we have to at least follow one of the Big 10: to honor thy father and mother. I don't know. So today Wifey has lunch on Miami Beach with her old, dear friends Linda and Cara, and I'm headed to Little Havana for a reunion lunch with my old firm. Dolores, my boss Ed's longtime secretary,organized a meeting at Casa Juancho, a great place with historically good paella. Paul's in NYC, but didn't want to go anyway, but I'm looknig forward to seeing old friends and talking about my days at the firm -- 1988-1994. It'll sure beat a visit to the nursing home.