The eruv came too late for me. . .

If the level of observance was low in New York before the war (see previous post and comments), imagine the state of Jewish life in Sacramento, California. My mother's family settled there in the late 30's,  where my grandfather and my grandmother's brothers had established a business. My grandmother told me that she refused to travel to shul in the car, so my grandfather attended alone for a few months until she gave in. 

According to my mother, her uncles hesitated to bring their parents over from Germany. They realized the parents would be disappointed in the brothers' lack of observance and shocked at the absence of religious amenities. My great-grandparents did manage to get out in 1939 and lived with my grandmother, who, despite the Sabbath driving, remained the most religiously observant.

I did not look forward to my frequent trips to Sacramento. It was dull, and my grandmother kept a close eye on me. When the Orthodox synagogue first opened, I wanted to attend. Grandma tried to exert control over the situation by insisting that I take a sweater. Ordinarily I would have accommodated her requests, but this was Sacramento. In July. I would have had to wear it, as carrying without an eruv is forbidden on Shabbat. I left the sweater at home.

An article about the new Sacramento eruv inspired this post. I see that my grandparents' shul, the Conservative Temple of Mosaic Law, still exists.

(Mis)Adventures in International Travel: A long life

A year ago my sister's energetic and charismatic mother-in-law, still living on her own, was diagnosed with incurable cancer. It was sad to hear of this 96-year-old woman suffering at the end of life.

My sister called a few days before my trip to tell me that her mother-in-law had stopped eating. She died at her home the morning I arrived.

Usually I stay in New York when I visit, but this year I had arranged to visit my brother in Washington. He agreed to have us come a week earlier than planned, so I changed our reservations in order to leave after the funeral the next day. After paying the airline's fee, we received e-tickets with the new dates. We would return to New York after the bulk of the family had left my sister's house, where the shiva would take place.

At the funeral my brother-in-law spoke about his mother's passion for her grandchildren. She bragged about them to no one but their parents, because telling people outside the family would only make them feel bad. Her grandson spoke about her giving him a check for $100.25. When he inquired about the odd sum she replied that the hundred dollars was because she loved him. The $0.25 was so that he would "call her sometime."

I blogged here about the compassion and assistance of my sister's in-laws during another international trip. My sister's mother-in-law had a warm place in her heart for my family, and despite the "balagan" of arriving in the midst of everything I was glad to be at the funeral. My children stayed with my father and his helper.

About thirty people returned to lunch at my sister's, but I didn't have much time before leaving for the airport. Amazingly, my sister found a ride for the four of us with a couple on their way back to Manhattan. They were happy to fill their van, now that their children are mostly grown. I sympathized; our own van is rarely full these days.

To be continued . . .

Teens, Sex and Eating Disorders: An Interview with the Therapy Doc

Never one to turn down free professional advice, I didn't hesitate when blogger Therapy Doc suggested an interview here on my blog. Coincidentally, while "visiting" my blog TD and her husband are in Israel visiting their son in yeshiva; see here (the end of the post) and here.

Feel free to leave questions for Therapy Doc in the comments. My own questions are in bold.
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