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February 15, 2013

It’s Valentine’s Day

Posted by Mara Jevera Fulmer under beginnings, cancer, death, Education, Family, friendship, grief, marriage, mourning, Photos, Uncategorized
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I signed up for Social Dancing and took my first class on Wednesday. The kids encouraged me, too, saying it would get me out of the house. And besides, I needed the exercise. Yoga has been part of my routine every other day. But it’s nice to mix it up. So I was both excited and a little nervous about this new “mini” adventure.

It went very well. I found myself really enjoying myself. So it surprised me a little when the silver-haired instructor (probably around 70 yrs old) came up to me as I was getting my coat and asked if I was okay, was I crying? Oh, no, I’m just fine. But the kids say I wear my emotions on my face too clearly these days. So maybe Beverly, the masters ballroom dance champion, saw what I felt inside but hadn’t acknowledged yet.

My dance partner, a nice gentleman slim and well over 6 feet tall, almost had to lean to reach my shoulder of my 5’2″ frame. And rather than look up and crane my neck, I just stared ahead at the button on his shirt. Then, quite often, I would just close my eyes and count as I concentrated on where to put my feet.

1…2…3 1…2…3 1…2…3 1…2…3

In the space of an hour, we learned the Fox Trot, Waltz, Rumba and a few steps of East Coast Swing. It went by quickly and I found the steps easy to learn. I had an urge to push the dance further with the other moves I knew went with them. Feeling the beat, I channeled a little of the great Tamara Doriva, my grandmother, bell of Spanish Harlem, who made her fame as a folksinger/dancer, a femme fatale on the stages of NYC in the 1930s and 40s.

As I closed my eyes, I could easily forget where I was. Instead, I was transported back to a time not that long ago, when my dance partner was my dear Keith as we shared our utter joy at our daughter’s wedding.

“How did we get here?”

We asked each other in joyful laughter. But now I ask myself:

“How did I get here? alone?”

It has been less than 19 months since that joyful dance, when we saw the future as newlyweds ourselves, with children grown and still young and energetic enough to enjoy the next chapter with youthful-minded (if not youthful physically) abandon.

After my dance class, once I got home from picking up a few items, the kids were all there for a visit and I got to make dinner for more than just me. Laughter and bawdy humor filled the house, jokes flying here and there like old times. It felt good.

Later that night, I sat on the bed and looked at Keith’s photo, touched my lips with my finger and pressed it on his, turned the light off and cried myself to sleep.

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Therapeutic Arts and Conversation

I’ve done three book arts workshops in three weekends and now won’t have another until March when I go back and revisit letterpress printing. Each trip to Ann Arbor for the workshop is usually followed by a visit with Stassia, wandering around the used bookstores, maybe a little peek in the Ten Thousand Villages shop, of course after looking around the gallery where Stassia works.

While this activity has been very therapeutic, I’ve also found myself suffering waves of emotion that were entirely unanticipated, especially after I’ve had long periods of feeling fairly good. It became clear to me that it was time to revisit a grief counselor and so I arranged to set up semi-regular visits to a therapist who could guide me through this next phase. As strong as I may think I am sometimes, my very smart grown children have said “it’s okay” to ask for help. I think that for me, it is comforting just to have this touchstone meeting to look forward to, where I can let some of the emotional backlog slip over the dam.

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Exploring the Territory

In early January, I thought I’d turn over a new leaf. Mostly I think it was loneliness and lack of adult conversation. But I decided to check out one of the online dating sites for “older” adults. My profile clearly states that I am not interested in marriage or longterm commitments at this time. And I boldly express how I do not wish to be “saved” and hold very liberal views. I describe myself as an artist, educator, and writer, and a recent widow. So in spite of my frankness, it is amusing to see what the results are from this experiment. Stassia has been a great source of advice and between us we often share anecdotes over who has messaged us recently. A very odd mother-daughter bonding experience has resulted, even if no other of my online conversations have led to anything beyond an occasional entertaining message.

So while my girls insist that what I really need is a gay guy friend (anyone want to volunteer?), I am approaching this as a sociological experiment with an almost analytical observational technique. For one thing, this approach removes the potential vulnerabilities that might occur if I were to take it more personally. So far, my observations are as follows:

• dating sites are full of scammers attempting to draw the person off the website (cause for “blocking” in my experiment);

• a disproportionate number of men in my age range advertise themselves as being extremely athletic and toned (not always matching the posted photo), and want a partner who is the same. (cause for “deletions” in the list of “viewed profile”)

• a large number of very “conservative” men seem drawn to liberal women. (also cause for “deletions” and/or “block user” in my experiment)

In spite of all that, I have had some nice message exchanges with some educated intelligent people, including the occasional teacher. And, as my daughter has indicated, it’s nice to have that validation that I may still be attractive to others, in spite of my “curviness”.

But, in the end, I still go to bed curled up with Keith’s photo in front of me and ask myself two questions:

“Keith, where are you now?”

followed by

“And how did I get here?”

So I guess it will take a lot more time to work out the landscape of widowhood and all that it means to travel this road.

September 10, 2012

Sad News, New Directions

Posted by Mara Jevera Fulmer under Family, Travel, Uncategorized | Tags: art, death, Design, health, khalil gibran, liver cancer, mental-health, travel |
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“When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”

~ Khalil Gibran, The Prophet

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Dear readers,

For the last three and a half months, ever since my arrival home from a shortened visit to Russia, I have been on a journey of a different kind, one that I wouldn’t wish on anyone. While in Russia, the family emergency I left early for was my husband’s preliminary diagnosis of metastatic liver disease – i.e. liver cancer that is not the “primary” cancer source.

From the moment I arrived home in late May, I focused on ways to help my husband of 30 years find the care he needed. Unfortunately, without the earlier symptoms to warn us (he was not a smoker… ever), his disease had already progressed before final diagnosis in early June. He waged a brave battle, attempting chemo but making it through less than 3 full rounds before his body could no longer bear the torture of that kind of treatment. Even eating became a chore since the cancer had already spread to his stomach and spine, with the primary suspect to be in the lungs and pancreatic biliary system. To watch a loved one die is to have the ultimate feeling of helplessness and yes, even failure, because we were partners, always helping each other out, caring for each other during those challenging times.

But this was one that I couldn’t save him from. The fates, God, spiritual being that guides us on our path, whomever you follow, had something else in mind. And so my husband, who made it to our 30th anniversary, just after his 54th birthday, passed away on September 1, 2012, at home with his daughters and me nearby. We were relieved that he no longer suffered, that he was at peace now, going onward to continue creating and building and making art – all the things he did in this life – now in the next. But we also grieved, as we had all summer, knowing what was to come. We grieved for the loss of a husband and best friend. We grieved for a loving father, talented artist, a generous man and natural teacher. We grieved for ourselves. And we will continue to do so, while we also continue to hold him in our hearts and souls, a part of him that will never die.

So, while my visit to Russia was cut short, life gives us many different journeys to travel on. It will take time. But I know that I will continue to travel, bringing you, and my husband and my family along with me… even if it is not always in person, but in spirit. And I will continue to share that journey, too. Because when the stories are shared, they live on, connect us to each other, helping each other along the way. And they help me, too… Because there is a lot of healing to do…

Thank you, Spasibo, Vinaka vakalevu, Muchas Gracias…

– Mara
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PS: Included above is a quote that a friend shared and which connected to me immediately.

PSS: If you are interested in seeing the talent and creativity my late husband had, his website will remain online at www.fulmerwoodworking.com. In addition, a scholarship has been created in his name: Keith E. Fulmer Memorial Art & Design Scholarship, c/o Foundation for Mott Community College, 1401 E. Court St., Flint, MI 48503. Contributions can be made payable to the Foundation for MCC, with note in memo “Keith Fulmer Scholarship”. Our hope is to nurture young passionate artists/designers who exhibit the same desire to incorporate beauty and craftsmanship into both form and function. That is the legacy through which we will continue Keith’s life’s work. With love, mjf

May 7, 2012

Holiday quiet

Posted by Mara Jevera Fulmer under Education, Photos, Travel, Uncategorized
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Monday and Wednesday are holidays this week and the breakfast buffet was closed which meant going to another dining room next door and attempting to order some food. I’ve learned some easy words so far. Kofe is coffee and che is tea. But after that I resort to pointing at the item on the very limited menu which is only a tent sign about 4 inches high sitting on the table which has a few items in English on one side, and the same in Russian on the other. So I point to eggs and, learning from yesterday’s experience, I also point to tomatoes, cheese, and ham, knowing they’ll make this into a sort of omelet. I say sort of because the eggs are just over easy, rather than scrambled. And then the other ingredients are under and over the eggs.

A plate arrives with two rolls, no butter. I decide I don’t need it anyway. The eggs will have enough of that. Coffee arrives… More of an espresso, and I’ve become used to using two sugar cubes from the covered bowl with tongs on the lid, and two creams. It is very strong, but there is a nice reward as one reaches the bottom of the cup and the last sugars not previously dissolved provide a sweetened coffee syrup for the last gulp.

My eggs and juice arrive… No fresh fruit this morning. But this is a filling breakfast and I don’t plan to have lunch today. I’ve done this a few days now since breakfast comes with the room and it is generally very good.

As I make my way through my meal, I read from my iPad a few more lessons in Russian. Although I’m beginning to see patterns, my ability to recall the right words in a speedy fashion is nil. So I resort to Please (pazhalusta) and thank ou (Spasibo) a lot. Manners do matter!

To my surprise, my very attentive waitress arrives with a cup of fruit and yogurt, and another plate with two little honey cakes and something that looks like a small piece of tiramisu. OMG how shall I eat all this?

So… Asking for another cup of kofe, pahzalusta, I try out the yogurt. Good. But a little “grainy”… The best word I can use to describe it. Next, with a bigger cup of kofe arriving, Amerikanska style, I try one of the tiny honey cake muffins. Good… And strangely more satisfying towards the end of the bite… as if the sweetness expands in your mouth. I can eat no more.

All the while, the attentive waitress comes by on occasion to clear an empty plate or, as an aside I found amusing, grabbing a well used paper napkin. Each restaurant I’ve been to has a very purposeful display of folded small single-layer paper napkins. Sometimes, if not just plain white, colors are alternated as the paper napkins folded in triangles are tipped alternately, as well, creating a sort of fan design.

Looking at the little cake, I begin to think “boy that little tiramisu might be nice tonight with a cup of tea.” Checking to see that I was alone in the dining room, I used one of the napkins to lightly wrap the little cake, and then head back to my room to put it in my little fridge for later.

My sleep patterns have been so erratic that I find myself too tired to get up and head out for dinner at a “normal” hour. Yesterday I smartened up a little and, while at lunch at a very fine restaurant known for its pyroghi (stuffed pies), I ordered a slice of a savory pie to go. Based on the recommendation of my host, I tried one filled with sautéed cabbage. I enjoyed it later last night, but couldn’t finish it for it was almost too rich because of all the butter used. Heating it up wasn’t hard. I use the electric kettle loaned to me by my host and steam the food after the water has boiled and the kettle shut off.

Packaging was special, too, as my pie came wrapped and tied with brown ribbon. The dough was also very decorative making a lovely sculptural design on top.

Because the password for my Internet is constantly changing – and a separate login is needed for my iPhone and iPad – I had to visit the front desk of the hotel last night at 9 pm to pick up new logins. So I decided to check what was at the bar. Empty- it was Sunday night after all – I asked for “room service” to take a bottle of sparkling water back to my room. Some homemade chocolates enticed me so I asked for some of those too, and they were carefully put on a plate for me to take back to my room. I took the requisite paper napkins since my room has only the min. number of towels.

Today, I don’t head out til 2 pm and will visit a monastery. More on that later.

But just as an aside, the daylight has been rapidly expanding here. Sunrise is generally now around 5:50 am and getting a little earlier each day. Sunset is now closer to 10 pm… and it’s only May! No wonder I’m having some trouble getting on the right time zone!

Da svedanya for now!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/50899572@N00/7151417031

May 6, 2012

Group 2 – Ekaterinburg, Russia

Posted by Mara Jevera Fulmer under Design, Education, Photos, Travel, Uncategorized
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Group 2 – Ekaterinburg, Russia, a set on Flickr.

More photos from around the city, this group has special attention to street art. Much of it is done with permission, while other pieces are not. The tags are not appreciated. But conceptual works are especially admired. My tour was arranged with my hosts and two students who work as volunteers for a guerilla marketing firm.

One street artist, Tima Radya, does especially planned and admired work, his philosophy studies providing a strong conceptual mindset. The old WWII era hospital was a project that utilized bandages and selective burning of the wood panel surface to create portraits of soldiers from the period. Although he did not have permission to install the work, once he explained its meaning to the caretaker, they allowed it to remain.