Blog #30 Life is Always an Adventure

In previous blogs I covered all kinds of happy and sad memories which were triggered by some happening at the moment. I now had a few days that made me feel like staying home, so I went across the street to Verizon to ask some help from the friendly manager Brenda to teach me a few more things I can find in my new smart phone. Also, my daughter Alicia showed me new possibilities such as actually reading books on my phone! Advantages -- much lighter to hold than a heavy book, and I can adjust the size of the letters.  

Well, I could not play bridge all day online, and painting requires too much concentration. I just felt like reading a book without going to the library.

All of us widows have one thing in common - too much time.  Most friends if you live past 90 have left this world.  “Never give up,”  I said to myself.

So I clicked the  Amazon Kindle icon, and tried to find something cheerful to read. I found a funny title:  “Old Girls in Low Cotton,” written by Helen  Childress. I laughed  all the time and admired her style.

 

The second book, “The Girl in room 14”  by Carol Drinkwater, made me think of a good few years ago when I became a widow at 65.  Once upon a time in my grandmother’s time 65 was really old, but not anymore. For me 65 was a new beginning. 

The advantage of that age: we are independent. Our children are grown up, on their own, busy with their children.  So we then ask ourselves what to do with the rest of our life.

My husband, Alfred Fleissig and I had enjoyed 10 winter seasons in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico.  San Miguel de Allende is, and was, a paradise for painters. I never learned more or did better work than during those 10 years taking classes at Bellas Artes.  I learned enough Spanish to survive in Mexico, and loved every minute we spent there, with good friends we made.  

San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, 1981.
Alfred is standing, 4th from the left.  Nika is standing on right, in green dress.
Alicia is kneeling in center.

Unfortunately, there is no hospital.  Americans who retired there had to be flown to Houston, Texas, if they got sick.  A great disadvantage of the village for anyone with a heart condition is that it sits at an altitude of 8000 ft.   Fred, at 77 years of age, could no longer breathe well at that altitude, and I realized that we had to get out quickly.  I managed to swap our townhouse with an apartment in West Palm Beach, Florida, at sea level, where my husband would be healthier.

  

I hated the change and cried my eyes out, walking along the ocean so that nobody can see me. But for Fred it was a good change moving to Florida. He was happy there and could breathe more easily, and enjoyed the balmy weather.

After only eight months my husband of 38 years died at the age of 78, and I thought  the “tunnel closed up” -  no future for me.

I ran away for 3 weeks, and cried all over Europe. It was raining everywhere I went, so I traveled to Israel hoping for better weather.  I had a year of mourning… and truly mourned - not only him, but also my own family who had all been killed in the War - for the first time.  I never had had time before when I was busy adjusting to a new life in America and bringing up children.  But after my husband died, I suddenly felt alone. I just walked, and thought, and wondered, what next?

You have to believe that there are miracles and surprises.  It happened to me.

Upon my return home, I became friends with a Polish man, Andrew Kaspzrak, whom my husband and I had met briefly before. He lived in the same apartment complex in West Palm Beach.  We were on the 21^st floor, and his apartment was on the 15^th floor. Andrew had offered to pick up my mail, and delivered it to me when I returned home. He was the same age as I, 65.  He had left Poland a few years earlier, escaped from the Communist system in Poland, was granted asylum, and started a new life in US.  He had a genius for manufacturing and marketing clothes, furs, and other items, and was somehow able to make money and have a fancy car, even under the Communist restrictive economy.  But he hated the restrictions, and found a way to leave Poland. Andrew was separated from his wife, and living on his own.  His son followed him, supposedly taking part of the boat races, brought with him a new Mercedes car his father had left behind, and also settled in West Palm Beach. 

Slowly Andrew and I helped each other to start a new life at 65. I had to learn to play tennis since Andrew loved the sport. Since my right arm has no strength I learned to play "vicious tennis" with my left arm!  We started traveling all over the world to all the places we had missed because of the Second World War.  Our teenage and young adult years had been taken from us, and now, in our mid- 60’s,  70’s,  and into our 80’s, we were free to enjoy life like kids. We went on cruises, traveled in trains across Europe, and even found our way to the North Pole for my 80^th birthday in May of 2000!   

Andrew and Nika in Iquitos, Peru

 Nika traveled to Peru despite a broken arm. 
See the cast on her right arm

.

Nika and Andrew at the Ice Palace Igloo Hotel
at the North Pole, 2000

Now, in 2015, after being alone  for 10 years, (Andrew died at age 85) I am reading a book  about the French Riviera. I recall being on a train to Cannes in France, and across from us a nice lady listening to our plans said, “Why don’t you try something new…not as busy and full of tourists as Cannes or the rest of Riviera: the name is Menton.”

We had never heard of it but we did it.  Everything was delightful in that place.  Always stay open to try new adventures - why not? I never forgot the great new part of the Riviera to enjoy.  Carol Drinkwater describes in her book all the places I remember, and so I am smiling as I read her book.

Why did I feel that I would like to tell my friends about it? Because I want to say strongly never to think  life is over!!  Surprises are waiting around the corner if you are willing to take a chance!  Now past 90 it is so pleasant to have such fond memories!!!!!   

Now I have adventures with my daughter here in Sedona, meeting new friends, younger people, and being invited to places I never thought to be able to see before.   I’m looking forward to seeing the rest of my family, including my baby great-daughters, just now 4 months old, this summer on Cape Cod.  A real family celebration! 

Good luck to all of you reading!  Take a chance and have an adventure!

- Nika Fleissig

  

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#29 MOTHER'S WEEK in Oregon

Life Begins at Ninety Blog #29, Mother’s WEEK in Oregon!

It all happened because I was late returning my book to the library branch near my home in the Village of Oak Creek near Sedona.  

Suddenly I see dangling feet... A man was sitting on the back of a truck in the parking lot taking pictures.  So I asked him if he could take a picture of me from my own phone camera.  As he did that, his adorable wife Zoe showed up... They went with me to return my book and then walked back to my place to see my paintings.  After seeing the paintings and my book lying on the table, he said, “I am Bill Willetts from Oregon.  When I return home I will swap my book for yours, and send you the book my mother wrote when she was 95, like you are about to be.”  I learned that she came as the youngest daughter of a large family from Italy through Ellis Island, and was interviewed about her immigrant experience as part of the Ellis Island museum. 

In a week we got a lovely package containing a book, a chocolate bar and a mug with a picture and logo of Five Pines on them, as well as printed information about the lodge he had built.  We thanked him, and received an unexpected surprise: an invitation to be their guest for 3 days.  Monday – Wednesday May 4-6, checking out on Thursday morning, May 7.  The cabins are fully booked Thursday – Sunday, so the beginning of the week was good for them and good for us too. Never did I dream that I could ask Alicia to skip a Friday evening service, but she agreed that we would go, and not rush back.  There would be a lay-led service on Friday at the Sedona synagogue, and we would take our time with an extra day to come home.

Alicia began to read the book, and loved it.  The print was too small for me, so Alicia read parts out loud to me about the fascinating story of Bill’s mother’s life.

So we planned Mother’s Week... Why just one day?  Like a Polish wedding or birthday… lasts all week!

We had to take two small planes from Phoenix via San Francisco to reach this small airport at Redmond, Oregon. 

Nika on the plane reading a book downloaded into her android phone

Then Alicia rented a fiery red Dodge Journey, perfect name for this trip.  Just couldn’t find any place to plug in the GPS so she had to navigate the old fashioned way – with a little, inaccurate tourist map, and asking directions. We arrived at what looked like an enchanted pine forest…vertical lines of hundreds of tree trunks reaching to the sky. 

There is a lodge, and a conference center,  a spa called Shibui, run by Bill’s wife Zoe, and many cabins with different designs..ours was the Caboose Cabin, with an extra alcove for Alicia’s bed. 

Alicia adds: Nika couldn’t understand what animal was leaving all those thousands of droppings under the trees…. I laughed and told her they were pine cones!!!

Alicia drove us to the nearby town of Sisters, all of several blocks long, with cute little houses turned into galleries, stores, and restaurants. 

In the Conference Center, everything was dedicated to Bill‘s mother Elda, with inspiring quotes about forgiveness from his mother written on large wooden plaques.  The family pictures were framed and displayed in the central entryway, making this public space homey and personal.

Zoe and Bill have been married for many years, since she was 16 and he 18... Their parents had been against their getting married so early, but she got pregnant and against everyone’s advice they did get married and kept the child, and created a life and large family together.  Now they have grandchildren already in college! What a strong, loving, family life they created!

This Five Pines Lodge was built only 8 years ago after many years of Bill’s having businesses in sales and design.  Read the book to find out more...  

It is called “The Sugar’s at the Bottom of the Cup.”  The lodge is located in Sisters, Oregon, named after the Three Sisters Mountains nearby. If you want to smell the best, cleanest air ever, we highly recommend you go there and enjoy this fairy tale spot.  People return year after year… We read some of their reflections in a journal in the cottage with entries from families who visited again and again..

Alicia:  On Wednesday, our second full day at the Five Pines Lodge, Nika decided to rest in the cabin so I went exploring to find the Head of the Metolius River, suggested as a remarkable destination for anyone visiting the area.  I drove among miles of pine trees, parked – the only car in the whole parking lot – and started walking down the path.  The only companion I had was a lively chipmunk. I did reach the spot where one has a view of the flowing river, but the air was very cold, and the sky was grey, so I turned around and quickly headed back.

The highlight of our trip, however, was not the meanderings downtown, nor the exploration of the Head of the Metolius River,  but the dinner at the Open Door Restaurant inside the Clearwater Gallery in Sisters. In the evening, they put tables into the gallery space and instantly it becomes a restaurant. 

Alicia: Bill knew of my mother’s love of art, and so picked this fine dining venue in the midst of paintings and sculptures for a family gathering to which we were invited.

We hugged Bill and Zoe, and then were introduced to their son Greg, and his sons Sean and Gabriel.  We also got up and walked around the small gallery, and met all the other diners.  At one large table were people who hold a regular Italian conversation group, so we practiced speaking Italian with them.  Other diners exchanged email addresses with us.  Very friendly, warm atmosphere!

We exchanged gifts with Bill and Zoe, and felt like extended family. We hope to meet the rest of the family in the future.

After our three days in this fairy tale like place, we made a detour to Bend, Oregon, on Thursday morning, where Alicia found (after a few stops to ask) the Old Mill District, which in our minds would be a kind of promenade along the Dechutes River with tables and cafes and cute local shops.... No such thing.  It was indeed an old brick mill with smokestacks turned into an outdoor mall with Chico’s and all the usual franchise shops... And... it was bitter cold and windy. So, never mind, we just went, much earlier than expected, back to the Redmond Airport to drop off the car, and wait for the shuttle from the Comfort Suites Inn to pick us up. We had both agreed that it would be too rushed to return back home after those 3 days... Rather we decided to stay at a hotel for one more night before flying back to Sedona the next morning, Friday. Kind of time to decompress.

We got to this hotel expecting nothing but a clean room. We open the window curtains, and Oh My God...there was a rushing, turbulent, torrent of water right under our window.  Alicia yelled out, “Mom, the river, finally!!!”  Actually it is an irrigation channel for watering fields downstream, but for us, hey, this was The River!!!

After shuttling us to a quaint restaurant nearby with tasty sandwiches, we rested, and then decided to utilize the pool. Had a swim, and then didn’t want to dress again or go out for dinner. 

So… had a picnic feast in our room: Champagne and mango juice (try it!), and microwaved chicken pot pies from the choices at the front desk kiosk. 

Great, restful sleep, and then after breakfast provided by the hotel, they took us in their shuttle to the local Redmond Airport.  and... believe it or not, there was NO ONE THERE... I mean empty!!! I guess the rest of the locals knew to come only 10 minutes before the flight. 

The whole of Friday, May 8, it took us 12 hours to return to Sedona... two short flights, but a lot of waiting in between, and the two hour long shuttle ride back to Sedona, made comfortable by Ed of Red Rock Transportation.

Today, Sunday, May 10, is Mother's Day, and Alicia brought daisies (you know I hate roses), and we sat down together to write this blog about our Mother’s Week. I dictate, and she types and ads her own comments.

I always need to have something to look forward to…. and now that this Oregon adventure is passed, I’m looking forward to my 95th birthday on May 27, and then going to Cape Cod by June 1 for my 70th summer in Wellfleet, where our children and grandchildren spent part of their vacation… and now also our great-grandchildren will join the fun.  We will celebrate my birthday, and the naming of Tali and Craig’s babies, whose American names are Gabriella Roux and Amalia Belle, this summer in July.

Alicia: It is a custom to give babies their Hebrew name with a ceremony in which the parents and other relatives welcome the babies into the Covenant of Judaism through their significant Hebrew lineage names, linking them to earlier generations. As both a rabbi and a grandmother, I’m looking forward to both roles in this moving Baby Naming and blessing ceremony!

I wish for every mother in the world to experience such fun with her own children and create adventures... So start walking to your local library!

To read the rest of the blogs go to

www.lifebeginsat90.blogspot.com

LIfe Begins at 90 #28 Perfumes

Every now and then I asked my Darling Daughter Alicia to order my favorite cologne,  Cabochard by Gres.  As I thought about how I learned about this particular perfume, I started remembering my beginnings as a married lady in Westchester, an elegant suburb of NY. One day my cousin Salo Wolf (born in Vienna and escaped in time before WWII to Israel to become one of the most prominent lawyers in 7 languages in Tel Aviv) visited us after not seeing each other since I was 15, in 1935, when had I lived for a year in his parents’ palatial  home, as I was recuperating from surgery for a broken hip.

As we were reminiscing about all the surviving family members and where they were now living, suddenly Salo told me that I have to meet our cousin who lived in Scarsdale, very close to our home in White Plains.  He was Ernest Shiftan,  a famous perfumer.  Well, it did not take me long to connect with my Berlin-born talented cousin, and my life was never the same since.

      

I studied painting in the Art Students League in New York City, commuting from White Plains to NYC, dragging all my paints, brushes, and canvases.  Imagine me as a 30+ year-old married woman with 2 children, while most of the other students were 18 years old.   I was the old lady!

A whole new world opened up for me.  I had originally decided to be a fashion designer.  Xavier Gonzalez, a great painter and teacher whom I met in Wellfleet, our summer vacation place on Cape Cod, Massachusetts, had asked me, “Do you need money?”  I answered “No, I am a kept woman…  I am married.”

He laughed and decided, “You should become a painter. “ Xavier had a fine school for studying painting right there in Wellfleet, a town of many art galleries.

Just for fun to find out if I ever had a chance as a designer, I took my portfolio to Madison Ave. in NY to a very  prestigious agency to show my designs, and got some good advice. The man in charge looked carefully, and said, “You will be very successful, I think, but it is a cut-throat business.  With a husband who works long hours in the City, and your two little children  you will need a nanny to take care of them, is it worth it to you?”

I called next day and thanked him  for saving my marriage  and enabling me to be a mother to my adorable Alicia and Willy, and decided to become a painter, which can be done in my home.

When my daughter arrived once in school with green hair, the 4^th grade art  teacher guessed, “Your mom is painting?”  My paints were right next to Alicia's hair brush on my bedroom bureau where I fixed her hair every morning.

That is when Fredziu decided it was time to build a studio in the back of our home, so now most children of the neighborhood  came to admire the freedom of creating anything they like without worry.  I also got a kiln when my husband’s  friends heard that I also do small sculptures and ceramics. That was my birthday present:  I could fire my creations at home and not wait for weeks to get it in a professional kiln.

Once in a while when I was already in the city, I met my cousin Ernest on 57^th St. in NY, at the Russian Tea Room which was very close to the IFF International Flavor and Fragrances Corp. on 57^th St. where he was  Senior Vice President. Once I was invited to see how perfume of the world is created by him.  It was fascinating watching big bins of all kinds of smelly substances, excuse me, fragrances, from all over the world assembled on the bottom floor of  the IFF building. The next three floors were to manufacture the products ordered by different firms of the world, and the top floor looked to me like an insane asylum --men in white passing each other quietly on the long corridor holding strips of paper like a fan and sniffing each fragrance separately.  To my amazement I learned that most of the well-known perfumes and colognes were created there at their factory on 57^th St, and then sent to France to get a stamp,   and voila:  French perfume!

From then on I got at Christmas samples of all known new colognes, among them one about which my cousin said, “This is you:  Cabochard.”

I still use it now.  However, young people like new things all the time, so Alicia had to search the internet and order several bottles for me, as it is no longer sold in stores. 

 

Ernest Shiftan, known as "The Nose"
- a developer of perfume for IFF

The Russian Tea Room was filled at the time with artists and all kinds of well-known business people and I was sitting in the best round red loge.

My cousin gave waitresses cologne as gifts so they always found  the best seat for him. Ernest sat like a king receiving underlings, and introduced me as his cousin - which was the truth.  I saw men winking one eye -  you know how it looks -  they did not believe it. They thought maybe I am a girlfriend.  His wife heard about it and distrusted me ever since.  Ouch! I was so innocent then.  Old stories make me laugh today. What fun my beginning as a young wife and mother and budding artist was, tasting the delights of freedom so appreciated and valued after surviving such a horrible war.  

I THANK every day for my good luck.   

PS. Daughter Alicia adds, Because there are so many people who are sensitive to perfumes and scent, it is a rule at the synagogue and many places in Sedona that one should NOT wear scented products.  I have to remind my mother NOT to put on her favorite Cabochard when she comes to services and events, although I have to admit it is a delightful scent on her.