Memories Shared & Personal Memories

    Hello Everyone and those who read our blog:

    first, I wanted to mention that this Saturday would have been Michael Jackson's 51st birthday, thus, the previous posting called "We Have Something In Common".  I'd meant to mention this in that posting but forgot in my excitement <giggle>.  Second, I would like to share some recent memories people shared with me or that I, myself, was a part of, over the last two months.

    As I shared with people my memories of Michael Jackson--that I was thirteen when he did his infamous Moon Walk and how that was the talk all over the junior high school I was attending, how some friends of mine and I sang "We Are The world" for a talent show, etc.--people shared their memories with me.  A few days after Michael Jackson's death, my oldest daughter (stepdaughter) and Micaiah ben Malachi's ex came down to visit us for a day.  As we listened to Michael's music on Sirius Radio and watched his videos on MTV and VH1, our daughter, who is now twenty-six years old, told me that, whenever she hears the song "Remember The Time", she always remembers the video of it.  The video came out in 1993.  Whenever that video was on MTV or VH1, she, her younger sister and Micaiah always happened to be watching it together.  It became one of their favorite videos.  At that time, she was ten and her sister was seven years old.  A few days later, Micaiah and I were talking to a neighbor acquaintance.  She was telling us that her daughter was about three or four years old during the popularity of Michael's "Thriller" days.  I cannot remember if our acquaintance said that one of Michael's videos was on TV or if one of his songs was on the radio.  Anyway, when one or the other was playing, her daughter proclaimed that, when she grew up, she was going to Mary Michael Jackson.  I had to roar with laughter over that one because even for a three-or four-year-old, Michael Jackson was a girl's dreamlover or husband.  This brings me to something I personally remembered.

    I was thirteen years old at the time of Michael's "Thriller" popularity days.  My adopted parents had been divorced for three years by this time, but I always visited my adopted dad on weekends and during the summers.  My adopted dad had been renting out the upstairs bedrooms to a single mother who had a daughter.  When I was thirteen, the mother's daughter was three years old.  I was playing my "Thriller" cassette day and night repeatedly, so the mother and daughter became just as familiar with the music as my adopted dad did.  Ten years later, I happened to drop into visit with my adopted dad and his new family when I learned that there was going to be a Sabbath dinner and that some guests were coming over.  Not only was I invited at the last minute, but I was told that the single mother who was renting the upstairs was coming over with her thirteen-year-old daughter.  Since I hadn't seen the mother and the daughter for over eight years, I wasn't sure how much the daughter would remember about me.  One of the first things she told me as we were all chatting while eating was, "I remember you used to like Michael Jackson.  You used to play his songs all the time."  Until that moment, I'd forgotten all about those days, as many things had happened in my life from late 1983 to 1993.  I don't remember what I said to her, but I remember being amazed over how clearly she remembered those days.  First impressions, those that she could clearly remember, make lasting impressions.  Sixteen years have passed since then.  Micaiah and I were listening to Michael's music in our living room the day after his death when the memory of that young girl came back to me.  I just had to laugh as I related the stories to Micaiah because it took a girl who was ten years younger than me to remind me of something that would otherwise have been dead in my bundle of memories I'd long forgotten.  That would've been sad, especially since I'd made quite a lasting impression in a little girl's mind who was looking up to me like I was her big sister, entertaining her with Michael Jackson's music.

    A few weeks after recalling that memory and relating it to Micaiah, Micaiah's ex and our two older grandsons came down for an all-day visit and barbecue.  The older child is five years old and the other is two and a half years old.  There was a little bit of wind blowing that day, so smoke and some ashes from the grill blew in our direction.  Since Micaiah was cooking, he was in the direct line of fire.  Noticing the ashes on Micaiah's arm, his ex jokingly commented that his skin was turning white.  I replied that I hoped that he wasn't trying to be like Michael Jackson.  The five-year-old, who I thought was further out in the backyard, quickly turned around, saying that he could dance like Michael Jackson.  Thinking that he was joking, I had him demonstrate.  While he could only do the basic motions of the Moon Walk, he did excellent wit the spin as if he'd been doing it for many years.  It nearly brought tears to my eyes as I watched.  Upon asking him where he saw Michael Jackson dance, he explained that he watched it on MTV.  I told our grandson that it was "many years ago when Michael Jackson first danced like that; way before he (our grandson) was conceived or even thought of."  It shocked Micaiah and I that a five-year-old could be so quickly influenced by anything, but then I had to remember how I'd once left an impression on a three-year-old's mind for her to recall and relate that to me when she was thirteen and I was twenty-three.  The following week after the barbecue with our grandsons and Micaiah's ex, they returned and went with us to our local county fair.  Thrilled over his new skill of dancing like Michael Jackson, he decided to try dancing at the same time of walking down the sidewalk.  It was quite a hilarious thought, but I had to keep my laughter inside so that our grandson wouldn't think that I was endorsing the idea.  In fact, Micaiah's ex even asked our grandson, "What is with this sudden Michael Jackson frenzy?"  Upon returning from the county fair and relaxing for a little while from walking around all day, I fulfilled my promise to our grandson that I would play a couple Michael Jackson songs for him to dance to.  I started out with "Heal The World".  I got the impression that he hadn't heard any slow songs by Michael, as he said, "That's not Michael Jackson."  It wasn't until he heard Michael's voice that he finally believed me.  We followed that song with "Remember The Time", which he enjoyed more because the tempo was upbeat.  Micaiah sang as our five- and two-and-a-half-year-old danced.  Being that two-and-a-half-year-olds repeat everything they hear, our younger grandson tried singing along as well.

    Finally, About a month ago, Micaiah and I were talking to the librarian that helps us find Jewish books and music.  I made a joke about how the initials of her first and middle name matched Michael Jackson's.  Not only did that get her laughing, but it prompted her to relate a recent incident.  One of her grandchildren came into the room with a leather Superman glove and red cape.  Unlike most of such leather gloves, this one had a silver-color-tinted thread woven through it to hold it together, which made the glove looked like it was sequenced like Michael Jackson's.  The red cape, too, resembled Michael's red jacket.  The first thing our friend thought of when she saw her grandson enter the room with the glove and red cape was Michael Jackson's attire, so she quickly reacted, saying something like, "Lose the glove."  Confused with what was going on, her grandson looked at her as if to ask, "What did I do wrong."  The little boy wasn't setting out to try to dress like Michael Jackson, just super man, but the first thought that flashed across our friend's mind was Michael Jackson.  Thus, she was reacting to that thought.  I had to laugh over that story, though, as I could just picture it being that her grandson was close to the same age as our five-year-old grandson, who likes to do his "Michael Jackson dance" as our grandson calls it.

 

Makedah bat Leah.

We Have Something In common!!!

    I mentioned in one of my previous blog entries that Micaiah and Michael Jackson had a lot in common--lifestyle, family upbringing, the area of the United States they grew up in, the kind of parents they had, etc.  Well, as my way to cope with the pain and sadness over Michael's death, I'd been writing little tribute things or things that I remembered in the past with my friends and I.  That's helped me cheer up.  Well, a few days ago, I started thinking about Chinese zodiac signs out of the blue, and started looking up all of my friends and relations' signs.  Micaiah and one of our grandsons were born during the year of the sheep, another relation was born the year of the ox, etc.  Michael Jackson and I were born the year of the dog.  I had to laugh at the irony of this when I looked up the years of the dog being that Michael's role in the Thriller video was the werewolf.  Here are our characteristics as the dog.  Not only do I agree with the description, but I've found the Chinese zodiac to be more accurate than other ones.

 

Makedah bat Leah

 

---

 

Dog:

Feb. 18, 1958 to Feb. 07, 1959

Feb. 06, 1970 to Jan. 26, 1971

 

Dogs are honest,straightforward,and friendly. They are extremely protective of themselves and their loved ones. With a passion for fair play and justice, they never fail to rescue you time after time. They may rant and rave, but they never rest until they right the wrong. They are true humanitarians and suffer with the world. In spite of their concern for others,social graces and fancy parties do not impress them. Having sharp eyes, they will see through people's motives. They are quite private about their personal lives and someone prying into their affairs make them secretive and withdrawn. Once you gain their confidence, they open up freely.

Once Dogs classify you, they rarely change their minds. There are few in-betweens. Dogs perceive things either in black or white. You are either friend or enemy. Luckily, they are good judges of character and have superb insight into human nature. Dogs are tolerant of their friends. Before they approve of you, the friendship must develop slowly with a variety of meetings and conversations. If they look you over and decide they can trust you, you remain in their hearts forever. If you need them, Dogs will be there.

When the time is right, Dogs work long and hard, but they know how to relax, and enjoy their home and loved ones. The Dogs have playful moods and a great sense of humor. They have quick emotions and if you offend them, they will snarl and insult you with expertise. They forgive with the same speed. Dogs are intelligent and well-balanced. With their stable minds, they make good counselors or psychologists. They endure during any crisis situation. They are trustworthy people and know how to keep a secret. Being efficient and very diplomatic, they can hide their prejudices well. Most Dogs have a comfortable home and do well. Dogs always defend what is theirs and have a high sense of value. Home and family come first,and Dogs will work to see that they have the best!

 

Only The Good Die Young?

    The toxicology report from the L.A. Coroner's office in the investigation of the cause of Michael Jackson's death was finally released to the public yesterday.  According to the Associated Press, various drugs to help Michael Jackson sleep were found in his body.  Basically, when one drug didn't work, the doctor gave Michael another drug.  When the second drug didn't work, another drug was given.  In the end, Michael was given a drug called Dipravan by I.V., which is only given in hospitals before surgery.  According to the doctor, he checked on Michael Jackson about a half hour after he administered the Dipravan only to discover that Michael wasn't breathing.  That's when he tried to resuscitate Michael to no avail.  Now, with the toxicology results and the various raids on the doctor's properties, it's said that there's a possibility that the doctor will be charged with murder.  As to whether he'll be charged with Second Degree or Manslaughter, that's not yet known.

    I wasn't at all shocked over the news.  Some people wondered whether Michael Jackson had committed suicide, but he wouldn't do that, especially knowing that he had children that depended on him.  He didn't want to hurt his children by committing suicide.  One thing I've noticed from reading history and now experiencing history is that it seems like those who have done all they could to do the right thing by addressing the social problems that plague our world end up dying young.  Why is that?

    When Moses was leading the Israelites out of Egypt to the Promised Land, many of those who left with him complained about the hardships in the wilderness.  They started questioning God (G*D).  The many little miracles--the parting of the Red Sea, the Egyptians drowning in the Red Sea in their chariots, etc.--that Moses pointed out as these events unfolded, didn't seem to matter to the people.  All they saw was that Moses was leading them out of familiar territory into the unknown to be stranded.  Yet, many years after Moses's death, he's now remembered by Jews for being the best leader; the one who, with G*D's guidance, led us out of Egypt.  When Jesus was carrying the message of the Torah to the common people, they were drawn to him.  His messages spoke of brotherhood and treating "others as you would want to be treated".  He also made G*D into a personal G*D.  However, the Sanhedrin, who had power over the common Jews, saw Jesus as a political threat because this meant that the Sanhedrin could no longer control the common people.  As a result, he was crucified.  Jesus' message of universal brotherhood didn't die with him, though.  His message still endures to this day.  During the 1960s, Martin Luther King Jr. went to many cities throughout the southern part of the United States and spoke of equality for all regardless of race, creed or color.  Even though such bills as the Voting Rights Act, which gave Blacks the right to vote, and the Civil Rights Act, which declared that people couldn't be denied services based on race or religion, were passed, there were still many Whites who felt threatened by Martin Luther King Jr. and his message.  As a result, he was assassinated, but his message still lives on to this day.  Not only have many more public places become desegregated since the 1960s, but we now have a Black president named Barack Obama.  There are many others like the afore mentioned, but I don't want to bore the reader.  Finally, Michael Jackson started out singing bubblegum music when he was part of the Jackson Five/The Jacksons.  Then, in the mid 1980s, he started singing songs about "we", as a people on this earth, "are the world", affecting social change by starting with the "man in the mirror", and healing the world so that this "world can be a better place".  (We Are The World by U.S.A. for Africa, Man In The Mirror by Michael Jackson, Heal The World by Michael Jackson)  He also had White children not only because that's what he wanted, but also to state the fact that, if White people can have Black children, then Black people can have White children as well.  As he stated in a song, "It don't matter if you're Black or White".  (Black Or White)  There were many who didn't like the fact that Michael had White children.  As a result, various allegations were made against him for child molestation and sleeping with children.  In an interview on a CBS program called Sixty Minutes, regarding these allegations, Michael said, "Jesus said to love all always".  He went onto say that he saw God in the children's faces.  The alleged charges were dropped, but bad publicity portraying Michael Jackson as a pervert in tabloids and news media prevailed.  The next thing everyone learned on June 25, 2009 was that Michael Jackson was found dead at the age of fifty years in his rented mansion.  Two months later, we now learn that he was murdered.  All Michael Jackson was doing was carrying out the messages of love, universal brotherhood, and equality for all, which Jesus, Martin Luther King Jr. and many others not listed in my writing here carried out in their lifetime.

    Though Moses was old when he died, everyone else mentioned here in my writing died very young.  Why is that?  Micaiah and I were discussing the answer to this question yesterday in my grief and anger over Michael Jackson's death.  As I reflected more on Micaiah's answer during some quiet time, his answer made a lot of sense.  Micaiah's answer to my question was that people who are evil feel threatened by those trying to affect social change.  Those who work to affect social change shine a light on those who are unwilling to make changes.  Those who are unwilling to make changes don't want to be told by others that they need to look at themselves in the mirror and make that change because this world is very ill and needs healing.  They are happy with the world and their lives as it is.  Thus, the evil people kill the messenger.  As a result, it seems like the evil people live till they're old while the good die young.  Moses, Jesus, Martin Luther King Jr. and the many others were messengers, but their messages are still alive.  In turn, their spirits still live on.  If we continue to carry Michael Jackson's message by living as an example, then all that Michael Jackson and those before him tried to do will not die.  Like Moses, Jesus, Martin Luther King Jr. and others, Michael Jackson's spirit will also live on.

 

Makedah bat Leah. 

The Orphan

When I converted, I wasn't looking for a new community. But that's exactly what I found.

by Aliza Hausman

I am an orphan. But my parents are alive and well.

I haven't spoken to my mother in over ten years. And I might as well not be speaking to my father, who I call (he never calls me) every six months for an always disjointed, awkward five minute conversation.

My close friends are comfortable with me calling myself an orphan. Some of them have confessed that hearing about my childhood has scarred them. It's the acquaintances, the new people who pop into my life, who laugh nervously when they hear me call myself one. "Are your parents dead?" I shake my head. "Then how can you be an orphan?" And they look slightly tremulous as they wait for my answer.

For a moment, I think about not answering, just letting it go, letting them stay in their perfect, pristine plastic bubbles where parents are supportive, kind, there-for-you. Most of my observant Jewish friends have grown up in happy, healthy two-parent homes. How can I tell them about the kind of parents I've had?I stopped loving my mother when I was eight. It was a defense mechanism.

I stopped loving my mother when I was eight. It was a defense mechanism. I knew if I continued loving her, it would kill me. Over the years, the older I got, the more violent my mother became. The mental illness warping her mind caused her to lash out in horrifying, unexpected rages. A hug turned into a slap. A calm conversation led her to throw knives at my head. Compliments became death threats.

On the last day I spoke to my mother, she held me down after her latest attack and covered my mouth to muffle my screams. I was 17. I ran away the next day and didn't look back until I was 21, when I came back to rescue my sisters. For the three years that followed, I fought my mother for custody of one sister before I finally won.

My father ran away when I was four. While I watched, my infant sister cradled my arms, my mother broke a ceramic platter over his head because he had been cheating on her. (I still have recurring nightmares.) At the hospital, the doctor told my father if it had been glass, he would have died.

My father moved out soon after. When I was 21, after 10 years of not speaking, I asked my father how he could have abandoned us with her. He told me, "I grew up without a father. I turned out fine."

Evicted

When my little sister recently moved back to New York City with her new husband, she couldn't find an apartment. Though they had saved up money for the move, landlords were skeptical about renting a $1000-a-month apartment to young working-class folks who didn't make more than $20,000 a year.

At every place my sister and I looked at together, we heard the same questions. "Don't you have parents who can cosign a lease? Don't you have parents than can act as guarantors?" Don't you have parents? Every single time, we were reminded of having no safety net, no parents to fall back on, no family to take us in when there's no place to go, no parents to fix seemingly unfixable situations. "We don't have parents," we said.

My sister ended up moving into an apartment with a stranger looking for roommates. She answered the least shady, online ad that she could find and finally, she and her husband moved in. But a week later, U.S. Marshalls broke into the apartment and evicted everyone, including the roommate who hadn't paid $20,000 in back rent. My sister explained this to me in throaty sobs over the phone. It wasn't the first time she'd been homeless. But now, it was her, her husband and a cat with no place to go.

We talked about giving the cat up for adoption (I'm deathly allergic) so they could move into the one-bedroom apartment I share with my husband. But my sister couldn't. "The cat is family," she explained. I felt overwhelmed by my helplessness. I was the older sister. I had always been the pseudo-parent who fixed things. But I had no idea how to fix things this time.Within minutes, I was inundated with offers from friends who were willing to open their homes.

I did what I have always done to cope with impossible situations, I wrote about it. I even posted something on Facebook. Within minutes, I was inundated with messages, emails and phone calls from friends who were willing to open their homes to my sister, her husband and maybe even the cat.

I converted to Judaism because I spent a childhood fervently praying to God but never feeling comfortable in my parents' Catholicism. At 14, I first read about Judaism and was shocked to discover all my thoughts about religion in one slim "Introduction to Judaism" book. When I finally converted at 26, I wasn't looking for a new community or even a new family.

But that is exactly what I found.

Within an hour of being evicted, my sister and her husband were moving into a new place. As soon as they were settled, my sister called again. She wanted to know if she could borrow some books. "What kind of books?" I asked. "You know, books on keeping kosher, books on keeping the Sabbath," she replied. She didn't want to offend the religious Jews who had taken her in.

I let go of my biological parents long before my conversion. I was more than happy to replace my birth parents with Abraham and Sarah, even if they were only my parents in spirit. That was already more of a connection, a deeper one, than I'd ever had.

But I never expected that when Abraham and Sarah adopted me, the Jewish community would become my safety net, there for me -- and my non-Jewish sister -- if I needed it.

Published: Sunday, August 02, 2009 

 

About the Author

Aliza Hausman

Aliza Hausman is a Latina Orthodox Jewish convert, freelance writer, blogger and speaker. Currently working on a memoir, she lives in New York with her husband who is pursuing rabbinical ordination.