Tom and Yarden would have long conversations over the phone. Sometimes Tom would cry like a baby, missing his son, yet so proud of him. After one of their phone conversations, Tom shared with me a pang of guilt thought that he carried for many years. He said “when we lived in Florida, Yarden wanted me to fish with him in the river. I told him later, but we never did.” “You should share it with Yarden. And everything else that is in your heart and on your mind” I said. Knowing that we are running out of time and opportunities for the two of them reconsolidate and make peace.
We had hopes again when the surgery went well. 8 weeks after the surgery the doctor said the cancer is back and there’s nothing we can do. We registered for experimental treatment but never made it.
At the time Tom was diagnosed with cancer. The work on Seanry stopped immediately, for two reasons. The first was to devote myself to Tom. The second, was the dust I created working on him was potentially harmful to Tom. He was stripped, had new wheels, and parts laying on the shelves waiting to go back in place. He was ready to be primed and painted. I had a friend who worked in a paint shop. He said he could do it. He took Seanry, primed it, but did not paint. I did not care as much. I focused on taking care of Tom.
On Valentine’s Day 2014 Tom and I went to pick up some artwork we had framed. Next door there was a jewelry shop where we used to shop. Tom asked me to go in there and ask Don, the owner, for the repair he had left. I did just that. Don gave me a white box with a stunning custom wedding set. I said, “Don, that must be a mistake, I am asking for Tom’s repair.” He looked at me and said, “it is not a mistake.” Tom walked in “will you marry me again”? he asked. I was speechless. “On the cruise” he added. We had our annual summer vacation booked already. “Yes,” I answered. On the way back home, with the most beautiful ring on my finger, uncontrollable tears glided down my cheeks, knowing I am with the love of my life, on borrowed time. He still managed to surprise me.
March 2014. Tom was sitting in the media room. He was weaker than usual. I made him tea with Cannabis which often helped with appetite. I sat with him and waited for the tea to work its magic. When Tom was healthy he always said he wanted to be cremated and his ashes spread over the Caribbean. Since he was diagnosed he did not dare talk about afterlife. He believed he would beat cancer, and did not let any negative thought crawl in and clutter his optimistic attitude. That afternoon he started to ask me about traditional burial. I explained the Jewish tradition. When that did not satisfy him, we called the Rabi for more details. It did not feel that it settled him. I felt that we were in the right moment for me to express my feelings about possibly being time to say goodbye. Tears rolling down, “Timothy”, I said “what would I do without you? How would I ever be able to be a good mom to our children? I will be lost forever. I love you”. He looked at me, for the first time acknowledging the possibility that he may not win the war. “You are a good mom, you will continue to be good to our children no matter what. I want to be buried with my wedding band. I want to be your husband forever” he said. We held hands and drowned in the sorrow together. Then he straightened up to look at me and said “I don’t want any man to ever touch you. Promise me that I am the last one to make love to you”. I cried aloud. “Timothy, your request is not fair and is unreasonable. Although I can’t imagine anyone else ever touching me, I am not going to promise you that”, I answered back. That same night we had the most beautiful, thoughtful, emotional lovemaking we ever had.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014. I called my mom and said, “mom, Tom did not wash or brush his teeth today.” I talked to the social worker, doctor Rajasenan, and the nurses, about taking him home. I arranged home hospice to come in 24 hours. I told Tom “tomorrow we are going home.” We were supposed to fly to Canada on Friday for mom Alice, Tom’s mother’s 100th birthday. When doctor Rajasenan visited Tom on Wednesday afternoon, Tom was still planning on flying. I sat on the bed beside Tom on his right side. Doctor Rajasenan stood on his left. “Doctor, I need to get out, mom’s birthday is this weekend.” The tears rolled down my cheeks. “Let ’s make sure you are better first” the doctor answered. He looked at me and understood that I knew that our time is running out.
Wednesday early evening, Tom, Shani, Kelly, my dear friend, and I were in his hospital room. Tom sat on the bed with Shani next to him. We were talking and laughing. We waited for Yarden’s flight schedule. Later in the evening, Kelly and Shani were planning to go home. The nurse walked in as soon as I said “I will follow later in the night”. The nurse looked at me, Kelly and Shani and said “why don’t you stay tonight”. “Shani is going to school in the morning, I will come right after”, I answered. “You should stay” she replied. Kelly said “don’t worry about Shani, she can call me if she needs anything”. “I will be fine” Shani said. I stayed the night. As the night progressed, Tom’s vital signs got worse. Somewhere in that time he lost consciousness. I knew it was not a good sign, but also I was relieved that finally he cannot feel the pain any longer. After midnight, I knew that I was losing him. Tom was so peaceful. His vitals kept slowing. I sat beside him, held his hand, and rested my head on the bed. At 2AM, Tom woke up. I cannot explain it. He sat up, straightened his back pillow and looked alert. He looked like he was going to jump out of bed. He looked at me “Nava, you are here” he said. “Of course, where else would I be?”, I answered. “You are the best wife ever, I love you” he said back to me. Before I even realized what was happening he slipped back into unconsciousness. The nurse came in the room, found me sitting up looking at Tom with glassy eyes and what must have been a curious expression on my face. “Are you ok?” she asked. “Tom was up a second ago and talked to me,” I answered. When she left, I crawled in bed with him and nestled over his chest like we used to do for so many years. His vitals kept dropping. Every time I talked to him, they would pick up a little. My last words to him were “Timothy, I am going to stop talking to you, I love you too”.
On March 27th, 2014 Shani was there, at 17, standing beside her dad’s hospital bed and saying her goodbyes. I lost my husband. That was hard enough. But seeing my daughter crying her heart out after losing her dad, her number 1 fan, her greatest supporter, just made it so much harder. It was yet another challenge for Shani and me to Triumph over our Tears.
We lost Tom on March 27th, 2014 to gastric cancer.
I knew it would take all my previous experience with loss and grief to triumph over my tears.
When we buried Tom’s ashes, it was done with 1/3 of his ring. The other 2/3 was made to a heart pendant with my first diamond engagement ring in the center.
CHAPTER SIX
THE ZOO
My family and friends say I am a strong-willed, independent, high energy, passionate person. That must be true because my mind and body are working 16 to 20 hours a day. I am working three jobs, and that does not even count managing “The Zoo” as well as writing this book. I always seem to be starting a new home project to increase the value of my house. Every day is a great day!
There is also another side of me. I am proud to say that it shines through each day. Whether it be with humans or animals, I am a very compassionate person. Because I have suffered my share of bumps in the road, I can relate with empathy when the situation arises. One of the best examples of this trait is in my relationship with the many animals in my life. Because their life is relatively short compared to humans, as you will read, the joy and pain are connected.
Where do we get our love for animals? Why are we being asked if we are a cat person or dog person? I can honestly say that I did not make up my mind yet. I raised, cats, dogs and a lot of rodents, even a parrot.
I can not remember when we did not have a pet at home. My first memory of our pet, that is if you can call a fearless, vicious Doberman a pet, is when I was four years old. We learned to live with Raam, Thunder in translation from Hebrew. The only person that had absolute control over him was my dad. I believe that mom got along with him, but he
did not obey her commands like he did dad. They would walk in the streets of Eilat. Raam’s shoulders and dad’s thigh were oneness. When dad would stand, Raam sat. As I mentioned, he was fearless and malicious. We had no stray cats in the neighborhood. I do not know if it was due to their intelligence, learning to stay away, or the fact that they had no chance if Raam sniffed them in the area. When he would roam the neighborhood (that happened only if one of us kids left the gate open), everyone would flee for their life until mom or dad would lock him back.
When I returned from school, at six years old, my front door key refused to cooperate. I asked Noah, one of my first grader friends, to help me with the key. He walked through the gate with no problem and helped me open the door. Raam however, did not let him leave. He jumped on Noah. I screamed, “down Raam, down.” I opened the gate, Raam walked out through the gate, I closed the gate again. Noah held his eye and cried. All of a sudden I saw blood dripping through his hand. “Noah, you are bleeding, you should go home to your mother,” I said. After learning about what happened, and I am assuming there was a lot of adult talk between
Noah’s parents and mine, mom said that we were going to visit grandpa Melech, translated to King from Hebrew, and aunt Rachel in Beer-Sheva. On our return, Raam was gone. Dad said,”someone threw a rock at his head, and he died.” Later in years, we learned that mom refused to come home until the dog was gone. She did not want to risk anyone’s health. Dad had put Raam to sleep. As aggressive as he was, we all still missed him.
Dad had dogs all his life. He trained them all. None were as aggressive as Raam. Even though dad taught Raam, it was not the right training for a family dog, a pet. My parents showed love and compassion to the dog. Mom never blamed the dog for being what he was. She took care of him and taught us to respect animals.
Could I become dog hater? Sure. Is it possible that after growing up with such a dog I would be scared of dogs? Absolutely. It was however passed down to us by my parents' actions. They taught us to love and care.
My first pet was named Kuki. Kuki was an old Siamese cat. He belonged to an elderly man, but adopted my boyfriend and me. We fed him, took care of him, and made sure he was comfortable. Kuki was more of an outdoor cat than indoor. He was old, without personality.
When I was a soldier, I came home for a weekend and found an adorable puppy at home. My boyfriend named her Kim. Kim was supposed to be a German Shepherd. Both her parents were purebred. Her mother was a guard dog for the cows. Her father belonged to a Kibbutz member. As Kim grew, you could tell that she was not going to look like a German Shepard. Doing my little research, I learned that a bitch could have a litter from several mates at the same time!
Kim was a beautiful, kind and loving dog. Her flaw was barking. She did a lot of barking. After marrying my boyfriend and getting pregnant, we relocated to a bigger apartment. Kim’s barking was worse, due to foot traffic in our neighborhood. What helped calm her down a little bit was the birth of Yarden. She took the role of a big sister. She would lay next to me and watch me breastfeeding. When it was shower time, she would sit by the bathroom door. Yarden was still an infant. When mom came to visit, she reached to the crib to pick him up. Kim growled at her. I heard mom saying “I dare you to come near me” and saw Kim walking to the kitchen. I knew mom proved her point. Kim knew mom very well.
When Shani was born, Kim was very excited. At times you would think she was protecting her pup. Shani started to crawl at four months. Kim would walk next to Shani and lick her. I constantly cleaned Shani. Shani spotted Kim's food, crawled to the bowl and tried to eat the dog food, while Kim stood by her and watched. I could not lay my eyes on anything else but the baby and the dog. The worst example of food sharing was when Yarden decided to share a lollipop with his baby sister. Shani, at ten months old, was standing in the middle of the room. After every time she sucked the candy, she let Kim lick it. I could not tell if the dog thought she was a human or Shani thought she was a puppy.
Kim moved with us to Eilat. Her rear legs started to fail a short time before we decided to move to the US. The vet recommended medication that did not help. At age 9, with hips and rear legs failing, he did not think she would make it through a 20-hour trip. We decided to put her to sleep. My friend who had dogs that she put to sleep, recommended that I leave Kim and not watch the process. That was one of my worst decisions. As I walked out, I heard Kim crying for me. I walked down to the beach. It was the first time I had put a pet to sleep. My mind and heart could not comprehend the fact that I killed my dog. Even if she was sick and weak, it was my choice to end her life. At the same time, I was conflicted with myself, believing it was the right decision. By the beach, I sat on a rock and cried. By this time in my life, many painful experiences had taught me how to triumph over my tears.
After moving to Eilat, we rescued a very young street kitten. Shani named her Tuti, after her favorite fruit, strawberry. Tuti was less than 2 when we planned the move from Eilat to Florida. We started to look for a home for her, thinking Kim will move with us and taking two pets would be too much. While I was sitting on the rock, I made up my mind to take Tuti with us.
Tuti was a cat with many lives. She was rescued at several days old. At 9 months she had a car accident. She had surgery and a pin inserted in her hip. Upon our arrival to New York, before our connection to Miami, we waited for Tuti. She traveled in baggage from Israel. But she was supposed to be with us in passenger section from New York to Miami. After a while we were told that they could not find the cat in baggage. They suggested that we fly to Miami and they would send her to us on the next flight. “It is a live cat, traveling in a special hard cage, marked “LIVE” on it. “How is it possible you lost it?” I asked. “Your plane is waiting, you should board”, she said again. “I am not going anywhere without the cat. “Find her,” I demanded, thinking to myself that if I ever get on the plane without her, I will never see her again. We were the last ones to get on the plane, with Tuti. By the vet’s recommendation Tuti was locked in the house for several days. When we believed she learned and could recognize the scent of our new location we let her out. After a few hours, I started to worry. I recognized that she is most likely learning her territory. I kept the kids calm when they asked about her disappearance. After a full 24 hours of missing the cat, we started our search for her. Yarden spotted her a few streets down. When he called her, she ran to his arms. We were relieved and happy. I loved and cared for the cat. She loved me back. She was reserved and picky. It was considered to be an accomplishment if she let anyone pet her. After Tom passed away she would come at night and cuddle against me, like she knew I was lost, and wanted to make sure I knew she was there.
We were on the boat in Fort Lauderdale when Tom and I realized that we had forgotten a few items at home. I went to Publix, the grocery store, to fetch what was missing for our boat trip. Outside Publix, they had a small group of fenced-in dogs. As I arrived back to the boat and shared that with Tom and the kids, they begged us to go to see them. Tom and I agreed to go after the trip, thinking no dogs will be there by the end of the day. We were wrong. They had a lot of dogs left. We learned that this is their last stop and hope. In one of the fenced areas was a black lab mommy and five puppies. They were all black, except for one. He had a white tip of a tail, white paws and white chest. He wagged his tail and was a very happy puppy. Tom picked him up, petted him and passed him to Yarden. While the puppy was in Yarden’s hands, we were looking at the other dogs and patted some of them. Not Yarden. He had a puppy in his hands. He could care less about the others. When we were done petting all the dogs, Shani did not miss a single dog, Yarden looked at Tom, with the puppy in his hands and said “Is he going to be ours?” “Pleeeeease” added Shani. I do not know who had the most begging puppy eyes, could be all three. Thunder, named after my first Doberman pet, never left Yarden’s hands from the second Tom put him there, until we arrived home. But not before we stopped at a pet store for supplies. We added Thunder to T
uti.
One week before the move to Pittsburgh Tuti got involved in yet another car accident. At first, it looked like her brain was pushing through her left eye. She was held at the clinic for 24 critical hours. The swelling reduced, she remarkably recovered. But she was left with a sunken eye. She used another of her many lives!
When the movers came to pick up the boxes, Tuti got stressed and left without returning. Tom and the kids stayed the night at my brother and sister in law's house. I stayed in an empty house waiting for Tuti. She did not show. We had to go to the airport. We stayed in touch with the neighbors who claimed they saw her sometimes searching the garbage cans. One month later I flew back to Florida for my nephew’s bar mitzvah and announced that I am not returning without Tuti. Tuti knew my ex-husband very well. I asked him to exchange me at my old home when I went to celebrate my nephew’s Bar-Mitzvah. He spotted Tuti first and called me. I left the party right away and drove to Tuti. When I arrived Tuti ate from the tuna can I left for her. When we found her, she looked malnutritioned and stressed. But she was alive, and she flew back to Pittsburgh with me.
Not long after we arrived in Pittsburgh, Tom called me and said
“What do you think about having another dog?”
“I don’t think its a good Idea” I replied.
“Thunder needs a friend, and we have enough land,” almost an acre.
“You have a dog with you in the car, don’t you?”
“Yes, Arnold’s Golden retriever. They felt that the puppy was home alone for too many hours. She needed to be trained. It’s not working well for them.”
Lightning was the new addition to the family. The Zoo expanded once again!
Shortly after, Shani wanted a rat as a birthday gift. Two dogs, a cat, and two rats. Can you guess who was taking care of all of them? You are right, I was. The rats were very smart. I trained them to use a litter box and to come to me when I called them. That was all good until we had visitors. They left the basement door open, and Lightning got to them. Oops!
Triumph Over Tears Page 10
