Tag Archives: adventures

France in mourning

28 Jun

It is tough for me to explain, the juxtaposition of circumstance in which we (Brian, Esther, and I) have just lived.  For upon finishing up the memorial/burial services for our beloved, Cole, we had to continue on, “being strong”, to fulfill a commitment made prior to our loss.  This commitment just happened to be in France.

It was very strange to have such heartache within us, while engaging in new adventures with new relations…very kind and loving people.  At best, we remained “distracted” from our pain.  But every so often (daily in fact), our loss was inescapable.

For instance…

While touring the streets of Toulouse a man with a limp and a cane walked by.  I was instantly flooded with sympathy for my son, and hurt for the hardship he faced after his braintumor surgery.  My heart ached so horribly in that moment as I faced his bravery and HIS physical challenges, as seen empathetically through his eyes by way of the disabled man doing his best to navigate his physical impairment.

In another moment, while visiting Spain, I (metaphorically) stepped into the shoes of my siblings and felt the pain of their loss…the loss of their beloved nephew.  And in another town, I hurt for my mother who I knew was keeping my house (and pets) in order while we were away, yet was daily facing the undeniable reality of Cole’s empty room–her first grandchild, her angel.  And during the couple of times I was able to have a quiet walk on my own, I stepped into the shoes of the friend.  The impact of their struggle in learning how to be a friend to a fragile Cole (after his surgery), and the impact of his being gone that leaves its profound mark upon their young souls.

And of course there was (is) my own pain that is unavoidable and ever so ready in its reminder that I cannot “wake up” from this nightmare of a reality.  And then there is the pain of the sister, my beautiful Esther Rose, and the father, my ‘darlin,’ Brian.  If I could, for a moment, get away from my own mourning, theirs was present, visible, and in need of consoling.

It is a tough case, this loss.  For me, it hasn’t lessened my faith in G-d the almighty, but it has impacted my ‘faith’ in ways I cannot truly explain.  Just impacted, that is all…

After Cole’s surgery, though I ached (alongside him) for his physical, spiritual, and emotional struggles, I held on–so tightly–to the hope of his future, and I encouraged him often to see it for himself.  The scripture from Jeremiah 29, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”, I believed with all my being in relationship to my son.  I could almost taste, touch, smell, and see the prosperous future of Cole…his dreams of a wife and children fulfilled.  His gifts and strengths being of benefit to others for years to come.  His generous heart beating full strength ahead for years and years after the statistics of his type of cancer suggested.  His touch upon this earth not hindered in the least because of his physical impairments.  …I could see it all, and my faith was fully present within my hope.

So while I remain fully comitted to my faith in G-d, his word, his promises, and the hope we are offered in this life and the life beyond, I am just a bit impacted, so to say, from not only the loss of my son, but from the loss of hope I had been clinging to in relationship to Cole’s future.  …hard to explain.  Just as being in France, while in mourning, is difficult to describe.  But I feel a bit like a disappointment.  Like one of the stories in the bible, such as Job, that no-one wants to relate to.  That we all, at some point or another, would like to believe is more myth than reality.  I mean I had such hope…such positivity, such faith–and yet, here I am–we are, all of us, hurting from this story that none of us wishes were ours to tell.  I don’t want to be a modern day Job.  I just don’t.  I don’t even like his story of intense loss, complete faithfulness to our Heavenly father, and a bounty of new blessing bestowed upon him.  It just brings up too many questions of, “why?”

Oh dear, I am rambling…the result of horrific tales of travel (delays, crowded planes, flight cancellations, loss of luggage and sleep, etc.).  I apologize, though not enough to delete this post.  😉

Next up, Japan.  Brian and I leave on Monday.  But for today, though our luggage has yet to arrive, we are home–safe.  And I write while sitting in my son’s room–as close to him as I can be…for now.

Biarritz France

Musician and daughter (Brian and Esther), walking to the ‘gig’ in Biarritz, France

bbandrivkabiarritz1

France, in mourning. Brian and Rivka

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All Dried Up

12 May

My last post was written in an attempt to convey the fact that I feel as if I am running on borrowed time.  Not the type of “borrowed time” that means short on life, but more the type of situation where there are so many things happening, nay converging, that when I get a moment I feel as if it’s borrowed from a future still pending.  In my own estimation, I fell short of success in conveying that concept…not only did I not take the proper initiative to dissect where I was coming from, but the thought itself is an abstract and abstracts are hard for me to process.  Hence the lazy output of my previous writing.  To be plain, my last post is downright boring.  A cop out at best.  I thank you for reading through it, and I especially thank those of you who, with loving hearts, were able to decipher through my blasé code and find the real Rivka in the mix.  You are my kindred spirits!

So I have some catching up to do…

First, the excitement of the day:  My husband, my daughter, and I are heading to France in June.  Brian (hubby) has been asked to play music at a festival in Biarritz, FR called, “Wheels and Waves.”  He is also being recruited to that country to have an art show at a gallery in the same town, galerie 13 avril de biarritz.  When he was asked to participate he said, “yes, but my wife must come along too.”  So Brian and I are having an all expenses paid trip to France, and we decided we needed our daughter to be party to the endeavor as she is fluent in the language and we are not.  Well simultaneous to the french connection came an offer from Japan.  Again, my beloved said, “I will go but not without my wife.”  So we return from France only to turn around and three days later take off for Japan.  Only this time, Esther will not be with us as she only knows how to eat Japanese, not speak it!

Which brings me to the second item of ‘new and exciting’ in the Bent (but not broken) world of Rivka B.  Upon our return from Japan, two days after our return to be exact, I will be starting a new job.  A full time job.  And though I am not quite yet at liberty to discuss the details of the position, or the employer, I am very much looking forward to this new opportunity, challenge, endeavor, direction.  I assure you, more to come on this subject later…like mid-summer, later!

Third, but not last, as result of many, many (would it be too redundant to include about a thousand more “many’s?”), circumstances and prayers (“prayers” should be in caps for emphasis!), our Bent family is graduating from the ministry we were called to thirteen years ago.  Yep, 13 years ago my husband and I knew without a doubt we were called to start an outreach ministry called, the Hotrod Church for Sinners (hotrodchurch.com).  It has been, what I like to call, a catalyst ministry–a first step, if you will, toward a life of faith (we have also  been blessed with several people who utilize it for their additional steps of faith as well).  We have met in the same pizza/bar restaurant since its inception–free of charge.  And have reached out to the people in society who feel, for whatever reason, unrecognized by the traditional church.  The ministry has become so much more than that.  It has been an extension of our family.  It is funny, I was briefly looking through the photos taken at the hospital while my son was in ICU (from the brain tumor surgery) and I thought to myself, “what a diverse and colorful bunch of people we had supporting us, what a beautiful ‘family of friends’ we have been given–many as result of the Hotrod Church.”  Now I like to joke (often), that the sinner part of the title is held by ‘yours truly’, though that part of the name came about more as a nod to the fact that we all know we are sinners and therefore don’t need to be told.  At any rate, our last service in our little pizza restaurant will be Sunday, May 26.  We are secure in the ending of this chapter, and we are excited for the next set of adventures our Lord in Heaven has for us…watch out homelessness, Brian’s got you on his radar! 🙂

Lastly (for now), is the present condition of my (our) son Cole.  The good news, he is successfully living on his own.  In fact, I will be surprised if he ever decides to come back home.  This, in and of itself, is very positive, and I have to keep reminding myself of this truth.  You see it is very difficult for my maternal eye to not fixate upon the things that aren’t so great–because it is in my nature to want to “fix” these things.  Cole’s dependency upon narcotics and the cocktail of medications he receives, greatly disturbs my soul.  Every day, I wait with anticipation to hear from him…when I do, I am thankful to have another day of assurance that he is alive.  I have come to realize that this is my lot, the lot of being the mother.  I will never have the ability to see my son through any other eyes than the maternal vision which was handed me at the time of his birth.  I will always want the closest thing to perfection when evaluating his health and welfare.  I will always utilize my critical eye with his circumstance because I am hoping for the best, most fulfilling life for my son.  But what I have realized is that my maternal eye, and all that the concept encompasses, is not necessarily what he considers as “best.”  And to that epiphany, I am learning to yield.  So I am reminded, moment by moment, that he is making it…his way.  And for today, that is a good and healthy place for him to be.  It is his process, and I will take part as I am allowed, the challenge being not to take over! 😉

Well I will close within this theme.  After all, it is Mother’s Day in the U.S.A.  And though I had hoped to be given a quiver of 10, I have been blessed with my two natural born, who just by themselves make the quiver seem quite full!  Yet in addition to the two, I have been blessed with many nieces and nephews (some of them technically cousins), young ladies who consider me a parental role model, children of longtime friends who humor me with their approval, and a  few stragglers still grasping for any loving handout that comes their way…all of which bless my soul to play a part in their lives.  Moreover, who make me realize that if my quiver of ten had in fact been given me, I would lack the capacity of mind for the dozens more I have been given in their stead.

P.s. I am sharing a piece of Hotrod Church history with the following video clip, including the fact our son is playing the drums while he was on leave from his military assignment…obviously pre-surgery.

…peace out and peace be with you…

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Odds and (goofy) Ends

25 Apr

Truth is, I have written many a post while standing in front of my bathroom mirror applying the necessary makeup with which to meet the day.  But then I am off and running, in many directions, though none of which proves to be an effective method for taking off the extra 15 pounds (6.8 kilograms) that has made its home around my waist.  Now that that has been said, I say, “welcome back”…to myself!

Sheesh, sometimes just living is all I can handle; let alone formulating thought beyond “duh?”—so it has been these last few weeks.  And because of the many trains of thought that have been running through the station of my mind, I will utilize this post as a sharing ground and by doing so, hopefully return next time to musings beyond the fragments I will utilize today.  …like always, I make no promises!

  • This morning I stared at the coffee bean grinder, while it was grinding my beans, and blankly kept the button depressed while the, already pulverized (now) grounds, twirled and whirled within the encapsulated bin.  I finally caught myself and asked, “Rivka what are you doing?”  “Nuthin, why is it a bad sign when spinning coffee grounds prove entertaining?”  Let us let the answer to this one lie dormant…please!
  • Where is the summer weather I know and love?
  • We hosted my coming of age niece for a week last week; our time together was delightful.  I am exhausted!
  • Our family has learned (I say “has” because we are in fact enacting the following concept) to operate within a strange, new normal.  At least it feels strange to me.  My son’s health is poor…this is not new news.  And we have learned to operate within a crisis state by vacillating between attending to the extreme and attending to other aspects of life, simultaneously.  Let me explain.  I have learned to utilize my days’ allotment of energy to step up to whatever the occasion at hand might be.  Such as, coordinating healthcare maneuvers for my son while sharing Hollywood’s iconic locations with my niece.  In fact, I picked her up from the airport Sunday morning, drove her to my house, picked up my son and drove him to the emergency room, took him home after he received the proper treatment, returned to my house to step back into the shoes of ‘happy hostess’ and made a decent dinner which we enjoyed together.  The last time my son was taken to the ER my husband and I were attending a Bat Mitzvah, 500 miles away.  It was that day I learned how to practice this new place of normal–happy for the young lady of honor while fielding questions of concern via text.  I even danced that night.  And this past week I moved between these two vastly different planes like an old pro.  My conclusion?  Life is life…this is mine (ours).
  • A cancer diagnosis sucks.  It sucks because the looming statistics attached to the particular type are always with you, even when you ignore them.  Because of this truth, my son is scheduled for MRI’s of his brain tomorrow night.  Result of his health bouncing between bad to worse, back to bad again (at worse is when we head to the emergency room).  I miss my son.  Esther misses her brother.  We miss his joy, we miss his hope, we miss his wit.  Brian would never say something so negative!  🙂
  • It is a strange place of existence, carrying on in life while housing a broken heart…for many of us, this is normal.
  • My daughter attended a high school Prom this past Saturday evening.  I thought she didn’t care much about it, turns out I was wrong…dead wrong!  Screech, shift gears, and voila, my attention became all hers.  Thankfully I have an understanding niece!  In fact, she became integral to the cause…photographer.

    Prom photos

    Esther ready for Prom

  • I have a headache, today is the third day I have awoke to its imposing presence.  Last night Brian asked me a financial question, I told him I do not calculate well at night, nor with a headache, which made it impossible for me to pursue getting him an answer as both were a present factor.  Today he expects to revisit the topic, at least it’s morning!  In fact, it is still early.  Strange thing happened for me today (yes another one), I awoke and thought it was roughly 7a.m.  You see our electricity was turned off yesterday due to pole repairs.  As a result, my clocks (coffee pot included) are not set correctly.  And since I kept my cell phone turned off I was truly unaware of the hour.  Brian awoke and joined me as I was finishing breakfast…at, I thought, about 7:30-8:00a.m.  He checked his phone and reported it was only 7:13a.m.  Wow, I gained a whole hour!  …I wonder at what time I awoke this morning?  No wonder the spinning coffee grounds fascinated me so! 😉

Well as the Looney Tunes family of cartoons would say, “that’s all folks!”  And just as I am finishing expelling my fragmented thoughts, Brian shows me a photo of my paternal grandparents, Harry and Bessie, on their wedding day in the 1920’s.  I must now go and ponder why I don’t know more about this fascinating couple.

nostalgic family photos

Harry and Bessie

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