POSTERITY

I’m sure I’d write more in this blog if I thought anyone was reading it. In the three years plus, since I began, 900 people have clicked on the link to this place, and at least half of those must have been me, checking for this or that, adding pictures, etc. Alas, I’m my own best admirer. All the stories I hear about blogs taking off, getting lucrative advertising contracts & publishing deals – I’m sure they’re true, but they haven’t happened to me.

My granddaughters, who should be the people most interested in my life, don’t speak to me; their mother sanctions this behavior. The oldest one, the tyrannical, tantrum throwing ruler of her household, has determined I am persona non grata, and has forbidden me to visit. Imagine a sixteen year old being allowed to make such decisions for her family! And to speak disrespectfully to her grandmother!

I committed the sin of not attending her bat mitzvah; chose to go to India for 6 months instead, and didn't "fly in for the day." This has been taken as an unforgivable act, as though religion plays any part in this girl’s life, which it doesn’t. So be it. I hope one day she’ll see it another way, if her mind ever opens up. That’s what I pray for, but I know some people never grow up; they carry their prejudices and hatreds around all their lives. Hard to accept from my own granddaughter, whom I loved and cherished all these years, but, clearly not in the way she wanted.

Now I’ve undertaken the project of scanning all my family albums, about 50 years worth, in view of a digital legacy for my children & grandchildren – those who care. If they don’t, it’s a pity for them. At least I will have done the right thing.

I’m also working with an editor on my memoir, THE PRINCESS FROM FLATBUSH, which, surprise, surprise, has not found a publisher – a fact that shocked my agent as much as it shocked me. I will publish it myself.

What does it mean, all this issuing forth of memorabilia? Inklings of mortality? At my age, it’s not surprising. It’s always there, lurking around the corner, so near I can smell it. I see it in the mirror each morning. Fortunately, I manage to ignore it most of the time, and go about my merry way, enjoying my life as much as i can.

Maybe my granddaughters would prefer money for their legacy instead of stories and images; they had no problem holding out their open hands out for the precious golden gifts I brought them from India. Who is teaching them values?

My hopes are with the little boy up in San Francisco, direct descendant of Moses & Confuscious, who may be the one to carry my legacy forward. And if it all falls by the wayside, then Shakespeare will have been proven right yet again. I can't think of the proper quote, but i'm sure he has one. Maybe the one about the moving finger....?

If there's anyone out there who can help me with the quote, please let me know.

Thanks!