If someone asks me what I do all day, I tell them that finding every occasion I can to celebrate is becoming my full-time job
I was born in Prague, Czechoslovakia (now the Czech Republic), at the same hour on the same day that Israel was declared a state in the United Nations. (You’re supposed to say I don’t look it….)
Family lore has it that my father came to my mother’s room following my birth and declared in Yiddish, “S’kimt intz tzvei mazel tov. M’hot a tochter un m’hot a medinah — We have two mazel tovs. We have a daughter, and we have a state.” My parents were the sole survivors of their immediate families, forging the next generation of life, and I cannot fathom the import these words had for them.
I’ve always had a difficult time giving birth to decades. The half-decades aren’t that much fun either. It’s not like I feel any older. It’s just the stubborn wrinkles and stray pounds that seem to be multiplying at warp speed. And mirrors are not always my friends.
When we were rewiring our condo, the contractor asked me what color I wanted installed in the recessed lighting — white (cool) or warm. I made sure he understood that whatever color made me look good was the correct choice.
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