It Only Took a Moment

By Ethel Dimont
Pulished in: Facets of Love, On the Edge Poetry Chapter of Missouri State Poetry Society.

War and fate seem to work in tandem, and for me it happened during WWII. I was a divorcee, with a two-year old daughter, trying to keep body and soul together. My circumstances forced me to move back in with my parents and start looking for a job. It was at this time of my life that I got an invitation to go on a blind date with a GI who was on a two day pass before shipping overseas to Nazi controlled Europe.

All the other guys had a date except Max, so another GI friend told him to call Ethel Kurzfeld to see if she would accompany him. My strong rejection of, “I don’t go out on blind dates!” stimulated his insistence to change my mind, never realizing how this one decision would change both our lives. If at first you don’t succeed, try – try – try again, and he did. The next time he called I was not home, so he left a message with my mother that said he would be by at 5: 30 to pick me up. Here’s where fate must have worked her magic, I have no idea to this day what made me say yes, instead of throwing him out on his ear, but I did and we had a lovely time.

As it turned out the ship coming to take his troop to Europe sank on its way back to the United States, so his two day pass turned into a three day pass, and our one blind date turned into several dates. A new ship came to take the men to war and I never expected to hear from him again, but I was wrong. Before he had even arrived in Europe, I received a letter from him, saying:

Dear Ethel: When I return, if we still feel the same way, I will ask you to marry me.
Love, Max

Eleven months later, he returned, asked for my hand in marriage, and our wedding was the beginning of a 47-year successful, creative, productive marriage. My daughter fell as madly in love with Max as I had, and Max adored Gail as much as she did him. He never permitted anyone to call her his step-daughter. Theirs is another kind of love story.

During our time together Max wrote five books. Jews, God and History, became a classic, selling over 2 million copies to date. I helped edit and type his manuscript almost 20 times so it would be without errors or misstatements. The success of this book opened up invitations to meet with heads of state for the newly formed country of Israel.

We received invitations to meet with David Ben Gurion, Israel’s first Prime Minister, Martin Buber, internationally recognized philosopher, and Menachem Begin, who is most noted for signing a peace treaty with Egypt in 1979. Max was also offered the privilege of lecturing at the Weizmann Institute.

Along with the four or five trips to Israel, Max and I travelled and lectured through Sweden, Finland, Norway, Denmark, Holland, Germany, England and the USA. While traveling, one of the things we enjoyed most was getting the feel for the areas we were in and collect interesting art work along the way. The walls of my home are not only lined with art work, but the memories of obtaining it.

Max died in 1992 from a heart condition. The pain in loosing Max kept me from reading the notes he had been accumulating over the years. Finally the day came when I felt strong enough to read his personal comments and notes.

Imagine my surprise when I read:
“It only took three dates with Ethel, a NJG (nice Jewish girl) to know she was the one. It must have been destiny because it was about this time I too was becoming subtly aware of my need for a basic change, unable to know how or what to do to make it happen. One date told me I would marry her if she would have me, never allowing myself the luxury of thinking that she too might feel the same way.”

I had no idea he needed me as much as I thought I needed him. Had he known I would have said yes to his marriage proposal before he left for Europe, had he asked me, I wonder if he would have. I guess it is of no matter, as he was a man of his word, proposing marriage when he came home from the war. There is no way to paraphrase the rich full life we had together without missing some of the passion, hot and cold that we experienced. Forty seven years of marriage was not long enough, there was so much more to learn about Max.

Today, at the age of 92, I have been without Max for 17 years. I am thankful for the memories I have of our lives together, because they help soften the feelings of being alone. Without them, life would be less light-hearted. Who would have known that by accepting one blind date, fate would help orchestrate such a wonderful life.

CONFINES OF THE MIND

I would have loved to know the fifteen year old who wrote the following. My feeling is that I probably would be able to carry on a more intelligent conversation with this youth than I now can carry on with the older people I now know.

This 15 year old wrote:

CONFINES OF THE MIND
I feel you walking on my earth
Going down my streets
I find you in the chambers
I see you in my dreams
I see you walking further down
And it makes my heart leap
You sent your army to conquer my heart,
And It’s there that I find
You’re the one that I see and feel
Walking the confines of my mind.

Mapping Memory

Here's a wonderful video "Memory - Mapping Memory 3D Interactive - National Geographic Magazine" about how the brain maps our memories.

http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2007/11/memory/brain-interactive


Try your hand at their memory game.

http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/games/memory-game

TBI and sleeplessness

One of the symptoms of a Traumatic Brain Injury is sleeplessness. A study on sleeping aids is the topic of the New York Times article, Sleep Drugs Found Only Mildly Effective, but Wildly Popular, by Stephanie Saul, shows how these drugs are barely better than placebos.

http://tinyurl.com/yhdpt6l

If you have trouble sleeping after a TBI, these articles may offer some help and hope.

http://www.tbihelp.org/sleep_disturbances_following_tra.htm

http://www.pubmedcentral.nih.gov/articlerender.fcgi?artid=2335398

http://ezinearticles.com/?Sleep-Disorders-From-Traumatic-Brain-Injury&id=1404406

If the Milk Smells - Don't Drink It

If the Milk Smells – Don’t Drink It

You would think anyone with half a brain could figure that out only many people lack enough self confidence, deep in their being, to follow what they know to be true. Here are some words of wisdom from some famous people. Enjoy!

"Common sense is the knack of seeing things as they are, and doing things as they ought to be done.”
C. E. Stowe

"A handful of common sense is worth a bushel of learning”
Proverb

“In any war, the first casualty is common sense, and the second is free and open discussion”
James Reston

“Seek advice but use your own common sense”
Yiddish Proverb

"Science is organized common sense where many a beautiful theory was killed by an ugly fact.”
Thomas Henry Huxley

“Common sense in an uncommon degree is what the world calls wisdom.”
Samuel Taylor Coleridge

“Do not be bullied out of your common sense by the specialist; two to one, he is a pedant”
Oliver Wendell Holmes

One, Two, Three, Four Stricks and You're Out

I had four doctors trying to fix my problem, which ended up being a case of, “Too many blind cooks in the kitchen.”
The first three doctors read from the same script or recipe, “I can’t find anything physically wrong with you. It must be a psychologically induced problem. You will need to get over it and move on with your life.”
One doctor implied he knew the missing ingredient was physical in origin – a brain injury. Only this information came three years too late, the damage had become permanent. The uphill battle for recovery was no less heroic in nature than climbing Mount Everest. Climbing a mountain or walking the path of recovery, both are a choice that will require everything you can give it.
It was a relief to find out that my chronic symptoms were not a figment of my imagination, but were a by-product of a real injury. This was my first step on my path to finding what would be my new “normal.” Because of the delay in addressing these problems, they became permanent, chronic and impossible to reverse. Today, more than thirty years later, they still are a constant reminder preventing me from not thinking about them – my new normal.