The Long Walk To Freedom In Johannesburg, South Africa

Posted on August 20, 2016 by jaynezak

The Long Walk to Freedom in Johannesburg, South Africa

“Our daily deeds as ordinary South Africans must produce an actual South African reality that will reinforce humanity’s belief in justice, strengthen its confidence in the nobility of the human soul, and sustain all our hopes for a glorious life for all. ~”Nelson Mandela

I’m staying at the Saxon Hotel in Johannesburg. It is in the upmarket neighborhood of Sandhurst. The hotel is a unique blend of contemporary design,African art, and South African cultural heritage.In 1990 it became Nelson Mandela’s first residence after his 27-year-incarceration. The luxurious Joburg home was provided by a businessman named Doug Steyn.

It was here that Mandela started writing his book “Long Walk to Freedom”. It is fascinating to see the many drawings (copied from original photos) on the hotel’s walls in the lobby, library and corridors. They give some insight into rather recent South African history..

The Apartheid Museum is a difficult place that you must absolutely visit to understand the country of South Africa. Your ticket specifies which door you will enter and what first experience you will have.

This museum helps one comprehend what happened to Mandela and the ANS.

It is a state-of-the-art tribute to the rise and fall of apartheid. Twenty-two exhibition areas take the visitor on an emotional journey through a state-sanctioned system based on racial discrimination.

It was put together on a seven-hectare site by a team of curators, film-makers, historians, designers and architects. Film footage, photographs, text panels and artifacts depict the story.

When you leave the museum, visitors are invited to take a stone from the left and place it on the growing pile of stones on the right as a commitment to fighting against racism and discrimination.

Mandela’s humble house in Orlando West, Soweto is where he lived as a free man. It is located at 8115 Vilakazi Street and has been turned into the Mandela Family Museum.

It houses an assortment of memorabilia, paintings, photographs and collection of honorary doctorates bestowed on Mandela from universities around the world. You are always taken around by a guide.

When Winnie Madikizela married Mandela in 1958, she then moved into this Soweto home. Winnie Mandela spent many years here being harassed by the Apartheid Police.

Mandela seldom stayed here as he was living life on the run. But it was the house he returned to after his release from prison in February 1990.

.”It was only then that I knew in my heart I had left prison,” he said in “Long Walk to Freedom.” “For me, no. 8115 was the centre of my world, the place marked with an X in my mental geography.”

Archbishop Desmond Tutu has a house on the same street. Desmond Tutu and his family moved into this house in 1975. Vilakazi Street is said to be the only street in the world where two Nobel Prize winners have lived.

During the time that Tutu lived here he became a Nobel Laureate for his struggles against Apartheid and he led the Truth and Reconciliation Commission for President Mandela. He did not have to live in Soweto which then had very few houses with electricity and running water but did not want to be seen as an “honorary white” living in Houghton at that time. His house is not open to the public.

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The Truth and Reconciliation Commission was set up to deal with what happened under apartheid. It was to record and bear witness to the human rights violations that occurred during that time by both the perpetrators and the victims. It was about amnesty, reparation and rehabilitation. It was considered successful though it had criticism. At least people finally knew what happened to their friends and families and where the bodies were buried.

The Hector Peterson Museum is also located in Orlando West Soweto.Hector Peterson was 12-years-old on June 16, 1976 when he joined his fellow students to protest against the use of Afrikaans in the schools. They were walking and singing the now National Anthem Nkosi Silele Africa, and police open fire. Sam Nima captured this famous image and smuggled the film out in his socks. The photographs were published in the World which was the Soweto newspaper which let to widespread riots and protests throughout South Africa. Hector Peterson, like Rosa Parks became a martyr and the face of the protest. If you have been lucky enough to have never cried in a museum before, you probably will here.

Visiting Constitution Hill is eye-opening. It is the only constitutional court in the world built on land that housed three prisons. They chose to build the tools for democratic society on the pain of the past.

The prisons housed many famous prisoners including Mahatma Gandhi and Nelson Mandela. The court and the great steps are built from the bricks of the old prison.

I was stunned to learn that same-sex marriage has been legal in South Africa since 2005. Additionally, the death penalty was abolished in the early nineties. The country has always been forward-thinking when it comes to social change. This is huge when you consider that in Uganda, just a few countries away, homosexuality carries the death penalty.

The works of dozens of leading South African artists including Marlene Dumas, Gerard Sekoto, William Kentridge, Dumile Feni, Judith Mason, Willie Bester, Cecil Skotnes, Hamilton Budaza, Kim Berman, Sue Williamson, Anton van Wouw, John Baloyi, and Andrew Verster are on display in the Court. (tablets record each day of Mandela’s incarceration)

The collection also includes works by international artists including Marc Chagall. Each of the pieces have been donated to the Court as tributes to the Constitution and what it means.

The painting that stayed with me was of a blue dress by Judith Mason. She was inspired by the story of activist Phila Ndwandwe who was shot by the Security Police after being kept naked for weeks in trying to make her an informant. She preserved her dignity by making panties of a blue plastic bag. This garment was found wrapped around her pelvis when they found her skeleton. ‘She simply would not talk’, one of the policeman involved in her death testified at the Truth and Reconciliation commission. ‘God…she was brave.’ That is the only reason we know her story. For me this dress represents all the stories we do not know of all the brave people who fought against apartheid.

The core values of the South African constitution (which also are represented in the seven pillars outside the museum) are spelled out on the walls of this space: equality, responsibility, democracy, diversity, respect, reconciliation, and freedom.

Any time that you get to spend with Darryl is extremely well spent. (hospitalityafrika.com) The man himself is living history who shares his own stories of growing up under apartheid and how he felt when Mandela became President.

He is very knowledgeable about all things Johannesburg – art,history, culture, food and the essence of what it means to live here now. He has so much pride in his city. I spent an amazing few days with him and our great driver Dave and came away with an appreciation of how wonderful Johannesburg is.

Fly safe,

JAZ

Foods That I Grew Up Eating For Lunch In New York

Posted on August 14, 2016 by jaynezak

Foods That I Grew Up Eating For Lunch In New York

“The History of every major Galactic Civilization tends to pass through three distinct and recognizable phases, those of Survival, Inquiry and Sophistication, otherwise known as the How, Why, and Where phases. For instance, the first phase is characterized by the question ‘How can we eat?’ the second by the question ‘Why do we eat?’ and the third by the question ‘Where shall we have lunch?” Douglas Adams

When I was a kid, we did not have the lunch choices that are available to our children today. Lunch usually involved two pieces of bread. There were two or three small delis on a block. If you lived in an Italian or Chinese neighborhood, there were several of those restaurants on the block as well. New York’s wealth of immigrants honed our eating habits and favorite foods.

Coffee shops and luncheonettes were on every street. Coffee shops were what we now call casual dining restaurants. Despite that these places primarily sold sit-down meals and not just coffee, you were usually welcome to sit in one for hours while ordering nothing but coffee with free refills.They had a lunch counter in the front with round stools and small tables in the back. They served burgers, grilled cheese, BLTs, pancakes and scrambled eggs. No lattes, almond milk or farm to table eggs with a side of avocado and chicken sausage. If you wanted fresh fruit it was half a grapefruit or cantaloupe and cottage cheese. No smoothies or green juice. Cottage cheese was the diet food of diners and luncheonettes. If you didn’t want grease and carbs, the diet plates were cottage cheese and cantaloupe, cottage cheese and tuna or cottage cheese and a burger patty.No one there had ever heard of kale.The coffee shops were often owned by Greek immigrants and had Greek specialties on the menu.

The egg cream is the iconic growing up in New York drink. Everyone has a best egg cream story from a lunch counter somewhere. There is no egg in it – only chocolate syrup, seltzer and milk. The seltzer should be fresh from a soda gun . The most important thing is the correct ratio of chocolate to seltzer to milk and the frothy head with flecks of chocolate syrup at the top of the glass. U- Bet is the chocolate syrup of choice for egg creams.

The Hebrew National Deli in my neighborhood was part deli and part convenience/grocery store. I think it had a few tables in the back but we never sat there. We usually got grilled frankfurters with mustard and sauerkraut to go and walked and ate them. Hot Dogs are the original street food in New York and sold out of carts on corners in Manhattan. I always found it odd to sit at a table in LA and eat a hot dog with my kids.

The deli was located across the street from Mrs Stahls legendary, dingy knish store on Brighton Beach Avenue under the elevated train. A knish is baked dough with a filling. I remember cheese, kasha or potato. I’m not a knish fan. The smell would hit you when you got off the train and I would often find one in my hand from my mother who thought I should be eating more.

Sometimes we rode our bikes on Sundays to Nathans in Coney Island. We had hot dogs and fries. The hot dog popped when you bit into it with a perfect blend of meat and spices. The fries were not thin but thick, crinkly cut and fried to perfection. Nathan’s was located on the corner of Surf and Sillwell Avenues in a neighborhood where you stayed aware of your surroundings. My parents went as kids when the mobsters and film stars frequented the place. By the time we got there, Coney Island was a shabby version of its former splendor. We still rode the Cyclone and Ferris Wheel but it was before the hipsters and gentrification.

New York had such a large Italian immigrant population that pizza places were everywhere. Everyone had their favorite but they were all good. A New York pizza is traditionally hand tossed and I have memories of some seriously skilled pizza tossers. High gluten flour and NY water are credited with giving the crust its unique taste. It is made with tomato sauce and fresh mozzarella cheese and traditionally cut into eight slices. The New York way to eat a slice of pizza is to pick it up and eat it flat to get the full flavor. You can fold it when it gets messy but a knife and fork will immediately peg you as an out of towner. The crust is not paper-thin. It’s not thick like Chicago. It is in between. There are no chicken and sweet sauce or pineapple toppings . It was sausage, pepperoni or red peppers.

When I wasn’t having pizza for lunch, I would be eating a meatball hero sandwich. It was meatballs with tomato sauce topped with melted cheese between two slices of Italian bread. I have never seen meatballs served like that in Italy. It was a NY Italian American spaghetti joint meal. The Italian restaurants in my neighborhood were Sicilian. There was always a lot of red sauce, shellfish, pasta, bread, red wine and cannolis. We sat in restaurants with red and white checked tablecloths and posters of Italian tourist attractions eating those very messy sandwiches.

Blimpies was the original submarine sandwich fast food chain. It was shredded lettuce with tomatoes on cold cuts with red wine vinegar and oil. A salad on a sandwich was unheard of in Brooklyn and people used to line up to get them.

I still eat all these foods for lunch. Living in LA, it is more about turkey burgers and turkey hot dogs. I’m trying not to eat gluten – unless I’m eating pizza. I ate Subway sandwiches with my kids when they were young. I wouldn’t attempt to find a good egg cream or cannoli in LA. Your environment teaches you what comfort food is. Pizza is still my favorite food. Every once in a while I will go to Carneys, wait on line at Pinks or order the meatballs at Jon and Vinnys for a taste of my childhood.

Fly safe,

JAZ

Act ll – Downsizing in LA

Posted on August 10, 2016 by jaynezak

Act ll Downsizing in LA

“In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you.” Buddha (This has always been one of my favorite quotes.)

The Latin word for baggage is “impedimenta.” which means things that get in the way of forward movement. Self help books say that we must get rid of our baggage to lighten the way to the new.

I am moving to a smaller house and “downsizing. “Downsizing conjures up an image of a life that is descending. The American dream has trained us to believe that bigger is better.

I no longer have the luxury of a ton of storage space for all my extra stuff.The amount of things you can accumulate after living in one big house for a long time is overwhelming. Daily I sift through photos, memories and keepsakes to see what aspects of my former identity will transfer into my new life. The emotional anxiety of releasing your history is tough. I am definitely leaving a little bit of who I was in this house. I am trying to only bring things that will add real value to my life.

The downsize was not my choice but an unavoidable life change. I can’t ignore the circumstances that brought me here but it is going to be different. I am going to be living in a much smaller house a block from the beach. It is a neighborhood where you can walk to Starbucks and restaurants. I haven’t lived in a walking neighborhood since moving from New York. I am a little excited to be able to walk on the beach every day and become a regular at the cool trendy restaurants popping up nearby.

So I just have to get through this miserable, uncomfortable, painful part of life to move into this cool house I found. Maybe our paths were never meant to be straight and the unexpected places we find ourselves are just where we are supposed to be.

Fly safe,

JAZ

Things That I Have Learned In Johannesburg, South Africa

Posted on August 6, 2016 by jaynezak

Things That I Have Learned In Johannesburg, South Africa

For you in the West to hear the phrase ‘All men are created equal’ is to draw a yawn. For us, it’s a miracle. We’re starting out at rock bottom, man. But South Africa does have soul. ~ Athol Fugard

There is only one other city on the continent that is bigger than Joburg, and that is the bustling metropolis of Cairo in Egypt. Johannesburg is the second biggest city on Africa.

The Chris Hani-Baragwanath Hospital is the largest acute hospital in the world. The hospital has 2,964 beds and is the only public hospital serving the 3.5 million people in Soweto, Johannesburg.

Managing your safety is an every day thing in Joburg. With Johannesburg’s extremes of poverty and wealth and the presence of illegal firearms, it’s hardly surprising that the city can be a dangerous place. Do your sightseeing in daylight downtown and be aware of no go zones. As in any high crime metropolitan area, be aware of your surroundings.

I was with a tour guide who knew where and when to go places. I loved Joburg and did not feel any more unsafe than New York or Sao Paulo. (FMB Stadium where the 2010 World Cup Soccer matches were held)

Don’t expect too much from the police, who normally have priorities other than keeping an eye out for tourists. Do the research before you go. (Il Giardino, Stanley 44)

Johannesburg is the world’s biggest man-made forest, with over 10 million trees. This number is set to grow, as City Parks launched the Greening Soweto project in 2006, with the goal of planting an extra 200 000 trees in the famous township. Not only do Joburg’s trees combat the greenhouse effect, they help reduce noise.

South Africa’s turbulent past offers a lot of material for its contemporary artists and galleries. The art work focuses on everything from history, race, identity, the modern world and everything in between.

it is definitely an exciting time to be viewing contemporary art in Johannesburg.

At the Goodman Gallery, I spent a lot of time looking at the work and art films of William Kentridge. He is a South African artist and one of the most famous contemporary artists working in the world today. The work that I saw was very much based on real events, anti apartheid and anti evil all pulled together by artistic magic.

The rich archaeological site known as the Cradle of Humankind is on the outskirts of the city. Forty per cent of the world’s human ancestor fossils have been discovered around Johannesburg.

The Market Theatre was founded in 1976 in the old Indian fruit market building. It is world-renowned for the many anti apartheid plays and received a special Tony Award for giving a voice to their struggle around the world. The theater company is known for premiering Athol Fugard’s plays. He was an anti-iapartheid playwriter. I was aware of the Market Theatre in 1980’s when I saw Sarafina on Broadway about the student riots in Soweto.

There are few places with as much history as Soweto. it was the center of resistance to apartheid and symbol of the poverty the system created.There is still plenty of poverty but there is also a middle class and a wealthy neighborhood.

Chez Alina is great place to have lunch in Soweto. It is a house that has been renovated into a restaurant adorned with the work of local artists. It can be a bit touristy so go during off hours. ( www.chezalina.co.za )

Alina and her daughter created a restaurant that serves delicious homemade local food and employs people from the neighborhood – dancers, singers, artists selling crafts, and restaurant employees. I particular enjoyed the singers who sang the South African music of the fifties.

It was such a pleasure to meet and talk to Alina who takes great pride in what she does. It is definitely something to include in your Johannesburg days.

Satyagraha House was the home of Mohandas Gandhi when he lived in South Africa, It was designed by his good friend architect Hermann Kallenbach.

The museum is filled with the intertwining history of these two men. It is unique in that it links a guest house and museum. ( www.satyagrahahouse.com )

The museum serves as a record of Gandhi’s fascinating life in South Africa.

It was supposedly here that Mahatma Gandhi created and developed his philosophy of passive resistance: which was called Satyagraha in Sanskrit.

It takes one-minute longer to boil an egg in Johannesburg than it does in the coastal cities of Cape Town and Durban. This is because Joburg is unexpectedly high and 2000m above sea level.

Fly safe,

JAZ

Election the Musical

Posted on August 2, 2016 by jaynezak

Election The Musical

“This is the dangerous thing about musicals. Most of them assume that as soon as you find your voice, you’ll use it to sing to someone else.” David Levithan

While I was watching the theatrics of both the RNC and the DNC, I found myself thinking of all the Broadway shows I had seen as a kid. It was not unlike the theaters I have sat in for most of my life – the set design, choreography, music, smoke machines, mood and stage lighting, costumes (the heroine wore white), speeches that should have been cut a bit in previews, videos, the grand showstopping finale and of course the critics.

It is months of planning, staging and rehearsal to communicate the message of the parties at the conventions. In my head, while watching I began putting in the show tunes. Hamilton is too cool for this group, though I did hear it mentioned. I was thinking more old school show tunes. I wish I could have done this for you but you will have to use your imagination.

Donald Trump was easy. I pictured him as Phineas Taylor Barnum in the musical Barnum singing There is Sucker Born Every Minute. (Cy Coleman, Michael Stewart)

Hillary was a bit harder. I didn’t see her as a leading lady. She was more like the smart or funny best friend. She was Chita Rivera – playing the best friend of Charity Hope Valentine, in Sweet Charity (Cy Coleman, Dorothy Fields).

Ted Cruz was another simple one. I didn’t know any Evangelical musicals so I had to settle for Hello from Book of Mormon (Robert Lopez,Trey Parker, Matt Stone). I think it works especially in this video from the Tony Awards.

Bernie Sanders is probably not a singer. What about the Bernie supporters as the orphans in Annie (Charles Strouse, Martin Charnin) singing It’s A Hard Knock Life?

Bill Cllinton will be perfect as Conrad Birdie performing Honestly Sincere (Charles Strouse and Lee Adams) from Bye Bye Birdie.

I have a few for the Trump offspring but I decided to go with Heart (Richard Adler and Jerry Ross) from Damn Yankees. It will be a better show that way.

The finale for the Republican National Convention instead of Queen could be Razzle Dazzle from Chicago. (John Kander, Fred Ebb) I prefer the Fosse musical for this one.

I like Lauren Bacall’s Welcome To The Theatre from the musical Applause (Lee Adams, Charles Strouse) for HIllary’s nomination at the DNC.

What’s a voter to do? I feel a bit like I’m listening to Guys and Dolls (Frank Loesser), Fugue For Tinhorns.

Thanks for reading. That is the fun thing about blogging and the internet. You can share any random thought that comes into your head with total strangers. I never really had any use before for the fact that I know the words to every musical I’ve seen as a kid.

Fly safe,

JAZ

A Heartbreaking Work Of Getting Rid Of Books

Posted on July 29, 2016 by jaynezak

A heartbreaking work of getting rid of books.

“A book can wait a thousand years unread until the right reader comes along.” George Steiner

I identify myself as a reader so it is particularly hard to get rid of my books. As a visual learner, reading is the way I make sense of the world. I am at ease with books around me.

There is a special bookcase in my house of books I have read and loved. Books aren’t impersonal objects to me.They carry in their pages the moments of my life. They were in suitcases with me on my trips. I found one from my honeymoon, my college favorites, books I read to my children, books that made the trip from New York to LA so many years ago and books that changed my life. I went through my books one by one. There was a lot of stuff in the pages. I found quotes that I had written down on little pieces of paper, theatre tickets, flower petals, letters and photos.

Inside the books themselves were worlds so much bigger than mine – Hemingway’s Paris, Bulgakov’s Moscow, Kazanzakis’ Zorba and Tolstoys’ Anna Karenina. The list is endless.There were characters that felt like I did about things from authors like Kerouac, Eggars, Rand, Salinger, Hughes, Frankl, Vonnegut, Potok, Conroy, Didion, Fitzgerald, Leibowitz and Wolfe. It was authors like Marquez, Llosa, Proust, Allende, Cervantes, Camus, Murakami and Hesse that made me want to see the world they came from. My most tattered book is “To Kill A Mockingbird” by Harper Lee. It is a book I often reread when I need any kind of self-help or understanding about the world.

I would never get rid of books willingly. Paperbacks and fast reads were the easiest to part with, I had a hard time with unread books. I have a lot of them on my night table that I want to read but haven’t gotten to yet. I have to read every book I have ever bought eventually. A book doesn’t have to be read by a certain date. Whenever I read it is always the right time. Classics, favorites, Pulitzer Prize winners, coffee table art and travel books are still with me. Some will stay in storage for a while because I can’t part with them yet.

Books connect us and explain things in ways that I often can’t. I asked my kids what they wanted from the house. My son said,”Ill take all your books.“

Fly safe,

JAZ

A Dazzle Of Zebras

Posted on July 25, 2016 by jaynezak

“No, no! The adventures first, explanations take such a dreadful time.” Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

All animals gather into groups at some point in their lives. Herd immunity is one reason, since packs of prey are harder to attack, but many animals also use collective wisdom to make better decisions. Some even blur the line between individual and group, while others limit social time to mating season.
Regardless of what draws them together, something odd tends to happen when creatures form crowds. They’re suddenly known by a bevy of bizarre names. In fact a bevy is what multiple otters are called. These group nouns are rarely used, even by scientists, but they nonetheless represent our own species’ collective creativity for linguistics. We used them a lot in Africa.

An Implausibility Of Wildebeests

A Pride Of Lions

An Obstinancy of Buffalo

A Memory Of Elephants

A Float OF Crocodiles

A Tower OF Giraffes

A Bloat of Hippopotamuses

A Leap Of Leopards

A Barrel Of Monkeys

A Crash Of Rhinocerouses

A Swarm Of Termites

A Herd Of Springbok

A Dazzle Of Zebras

A Perfection Of Rabins (We Love Pictures)

Fly safe,

JAZ

I Am Not My Passport

Posted on July 21, 2016 by jaynezak

I Am Not My Passport

“Should such an ignorant people lead the world? How did it come to this in the first place? Eighty two percent of us don’t even have a passport. Just a handful can speak a language other than English (and we don’t even speak that very well.)’ Michael Moore

I have the passport of an international drug smuggler. It has visas from Myanmar, Brazil, Argentina, Cambodia and Viet Nam and stamps from Mexico, Thailand, Turkey and Colombia. There are stamps in it from six of the seven continents on this passport. My passport says to passport control, airport ticket counters and security, “Yes I know to take my shoes off. I know the weight my suitcase should be regardless of whether it is or not. Of course I have global entry.” Now that security screening is more efficient, I am no longer being racially profiled for having a Middle Eastern sounding name when pronounced wrong. This passport says that I am a World Traveler.

Every ten years there is a new passport and a ten-year older photo. My passport is full a lot earlier this time because of all these visas. I went to get more pages and was told that as of January first you can no longer do that and you have to get a new passport. If you travel a lot you have to ask for extra pages when you apply. I’m devastated. I can get through another trip as long as I don’t have a visa. I’m going to plan to travel to a few countries where I don’t need one. It’s only five years and I’m just not ready.

Our possessions do make up our identity and express who we are to the world to some extent. Or maybe we acquire certain things to project the kind of identity we want to have.

When I lived in New York City, you were judged by the neighborhood you lived in. No one ever had to see your apartment. You were from the East Side, an Upper Westsider or a Downtown girl. Brooklyn was not cool then and if you lived anywhere but Manhattan you were Bridge and Tunnel people.

In LA, it was all about what car you drove. I proudly had a new Jeep Cherokee. I felt so Californian. One day I drove my husband’s new Jaguar. It was a different world. It was like I had suddenly become a blonde. The valet parking guy at the restaurant ran to open my door. The parents at the mommy and me class engaged me in conversation. I hadn’t noticed that I was the only one not driving a foreign car.

I hate to see this passport go. It has stamps from some of my favorite countries. I take it out and look at it because I can’t believe that I really went to all these places. The first entry was a visa for Myanmar. That was cool. It has a new South Africa stamp from my daughter’s wedding, I made them do it very dark. This is the passport that I learned to travel alone with. I’m not ready for airport and hotel staff to think that I have not been anywhere.

The next one will start with Australia (because I need a visa) and New Zealand. This one will get just as crowded. I’m ordering the supersize.

Fly safe,

JAZ

Walking In Africa

Posted on July 17, 2016 by jaynezak

“If you want to walk fast walk alone, if you want to walk far walk together.” African Proverb

Fly safe,

JAZ

Cleaning Out Stuff With My Kids In Los Angeles

Posted on July 13, 2016 by jaynezak

Clearing Out Stuff With My Kids In Los Angeles

“I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can”. Beryl Markham

I moved a lot when i was growing up so I didn’t get to save things. I wanted my kids to have their stuff and my house was big enough to save it. Now I am moving and I can’t keep it anymore. I really don’t want to let go of anything. I want to cram every exam paper, swimming trophy, essay, dance tape, favorite stuffed animal and birthday invitation into a storage locker. I would know that it would be there if for some incomprehensible reason we would ever need it.

My kids started going through their stuff together. There were years and years of accumulation of things in this house. That is what happens when you have many closets.

“Here is your pile.” says my son. I don’t need a pile. “It’s my college diploma, bar mitzvah stuff, first birthday invitations and all my baby pictures. Don’t you want to keep that?“ I replied “Don’t you?” He said “I have no room for it so you keep it. Don’t you want memories of me?” Yes I think to myself. I want to hold on to you both as kids forever. I want very much to have all the pieces of our past.

He reads aloud his speech from when he ran for seventh grade president. “I remember that being a much better speech,” he said. The sorting continues.

“I need this, I’m keeping this, I can’t get rid of this, I must have this, oh wow look at this – all my Nintendo games. I have to get a Nintendo player.” His pile gets bigger and bigger.

I once read that you are supposed to ask a question with each item. Does this bring me joy? If not, toss it. His reply is that ‘Maybe someone will make a documentary about me some day and they wont have any information about my past. We need to keep this stuff.”

My daughter finds something that belongs to him. “Here pass that to the ‘A Beautiful Mind’ pile” she says.”Look I found dad’s Bar Mitzvah invitation.” It was clearly something his mother had kept. “Give it to me”, I say, “Are you going to give it to him?” “No.” I answer. They look horrified and snatch it back. I was going to save it for future grandchildren but I did not tell them that.

My son starts taking pictures of things and posting to his friends. His friend replies “Great, send that to me in another ten years when you go through your boxes again.”

My daughter isn’t doing that much better. I start to pull out some of her discarded clothes to save for my god-daughter. “Why are you saving stuff for her and not me?” “Did you want to save stuff? I ask. “I didn’t know that we could. “Now she starts making a pile of things she wants to save and not take.

I pull out one coat I took when my mom died a few years ago. “Have you ever worn that coat?” she asks. She tries it on. “I would wear it today. You have never worn it.” I put it on. ”Uh, it looks like a bathrobe on you. It looks so much better on me. “ Now that is all true and probably why I have never worn it. It is one of the few articles of clothing that I took from my mom so it is hard for me to part with it.

My daughter takes a lot of boxes out of the storage room and leaves them in the garage. Can’t we do this one by one I ask? I don’t want boxes all over. She says that she has to leave now. My son says quietly,“I agree with you but I’m not siding with you publicly against her.“

There are about twenty boxes unopened from our old house that no one has looked at in sixteen years. They are filled with their elementary school things. They carry all the pieces of my children that I was trying to hold onto. It was the same way I took things from my mom’s house after she died to hold on to her and her past. I realized that whatever was in those boxes, I hadn’t seen in all that time. I remembered their childhood without ever accessing the boxes. I didn’t need them and they probably don’t either.

I know now that I will remember things or I won’t but I don’t need a storage locker filled with stuff. It is difficult to distinguish between possessions and memories. The possessions do trigger the memories for me. The emotional cost of letting go of their childhood is high. These things connect me to a happier time in my life.

We are more than our possessions. Our memories are inside us and maybe writing my story is a way to remember. The most sentimental things aren’t things at all, but stories of the people and places we love, and how we spend our time.

Fly safe,

JAZ