Also remember late into the show when a cop car pulled up to the curb which naturally gave the stand up (wish I can remember who was on the bill – it was August 1981) plenty of ammo to ad-lib. While he was yakking the smiling cops turned their search light on which lit up the entire club, whie breaking it up as well. Great times.

I was a 22 year old kid away from home in Montreal travelling extensively for the first time and fell in love with SF the moment I stepped off the train. I’ve been trying to get back for over 30 years.

I won’t ever forget my evening at The Other Cafe.

Cheers
Mitch Melnick

http://www.mitchmelnick.com

I can feel the leaves falling already, the cool breeze amidst the sunny day,
and the earth cycling forward. It feels good.

I am home now, after almost 8 weeks in Florida, slowly reintegrating into a busy and full life, as a parent,
as a husband, as a friend, as a business owner, and as a community member.
It is hard to go from such quiet, such holy and peaceful space to life again in the fast lane.

but life goes on, as they say..

My Mom had a beautiful burial in NY – and the only sunshine in New York over the course of 3 days
was the time we had at the gravesite. There were so many old and dear friends, and family we never see,
that it felt fabulous and full. She was laid to rest by her father and mother, in her family plot.
It felt right, and peaceful to see her there.

My Dad is amazing and powerful, healing and rehabbing his knee very well, and is back on his feet.
He’s home, but not alone, as Bruce gave up his teaching job at Emerson College in Boston this semester
to stay in Florida and help him in this transition. My Dad’s attitude is so healthy – appropriately sad
and grateful for what he has had in his life, and for what times he has ahead. He is looking forward
to driving again (at 86 yrs old, he’s actually one of the younger drivers in Florida), traveling sometime
to Boston and the Bay Area, and getting independent. He’s a very impressive man. I admire him so much,
for so many reasons.

My siblings were remarkable throughout the almost 8 weeks there. We haven’t lived together
for over 40 years.. and as adults, we figured out how to support ourselves, our parents,
and stay healthy in a very challenging circumstance. They are amazing humans, and I am so lucky
to be their sibling.

Thank you so much for allowing me these emails, and my thoughts to be heard, and felt.
Your support and replies have felt great. I am truly grateful for the entire experience,
and will never look into another human’s eyes in quite the same now.

I thought you’d appreciate a photo of my Mom.. this one captures her spirit, sense of humor, and smile.
She was a Queen in so many ways..

Much love, and here’s to a New Year of peace, health, gratitude and prosperity for everyone.

Scotty

Her memorial is Monday at 3:30 if you want to send a prayer/thought our way..

Beth and the girls will fly here tomorrow..

Much much love.

and thanks so much for being so dear to me..

Scotty

I’m going to attempt to describe what I am experiencing here..

My Mother is still holding onto Life – 6 weeks after becoming a Hospice patient,
and probably years after having Stage 5 Cancer. She had closed her eyes and gone into what seemed like a Coma for a few days last week, and Hospice decided it was time to move in 24/7 as they determined she was actively dying.

She cannot drink or eat, cannot swallow, as her throat has tightened up and the cancer
has taken over. So they stop all food and drink, as her wish was NOT to have intervention, not to have feeding tubes, but to die naturally. She is not struggling, not in any pain, and totally comfortable.. what a blessing that is.

Then, out of nowhere, just when we thought we’d never see her eyes again, this past weekend she started opening up her eyes! It’s been 4 days of this now. She seems to have some remarkable strength, a deep Will to live, and still some ability to control her focus, and her eye lids, and she is communicating with only her eyes and by blinking. The rest of her body is stiff as a board, with every bone, every muscle, taught and tight and contracted. The Hospice staff keep saying what an amazingly strong mom we have. We keep saying she doesn’t want to leave the party.. and she has always gotten every last drop out of Life.

She is so close to dying, and yet so conscious. This experience is miraculous, to be sitting by her and have her eyes roll around, drift around, and then all of a sudden, an intelligence and power focuses those eyes, and she looks right through you, beaming her love so purely, without any words, without anything else needed to be said. Her eyes simply say, I Love You… I really love you, and it feels like an arrow shooting through my heart.

It is SO PURE. It is sitting in the true energy of a Mother’s love, and a mother’s sadness to say goodbye.

Her tragically sad eyes also speak of a broken heart that is leaving us. There are times when she looks so scared in her eyes, with the eyes of a young child, fearful of going somewhere that is unknown. I ask her if she is scared. She blinks, and wells up with tears. It is heartbreaking. I tell her my belief, that I know she is going to be all right, that I know she is going to a better place than this dying body that holds her. And I say, this is terribly SAD.. but we will always talk with her in our dreams, and in our heart. She wells up again with more tears. She trusts me, I know that. But the pain of leaving is brutally real, and final.

This is the way everyone should leave this plane.. staring into the eyes of their loved ones,
telling them silently with all their power that they mean the world to them, that they are so grateful to love so deeply. And everyone should have the chance to receive a moment that is so precious like that. It is as powerful an experience as I’ve ever had.

I learned a lot about being a loving Parent from my Mother.. someone who loves their child no matter what. Now I’m learning how to just Love. Pure, and simple. And everlasting.

wow – what an experience to be here. What a gift my Mother keeps giving us.
We are exhausted, drained and saturated.. and yet, are amazed at this unique
moment in time with our Mother.

With great love, and in awe for what LIFE can bring us,

Scotty

Read them and pass on…share on social networks.. etc

Aug 23rd-    Hi dearest friends and family….

an update, as I watch the sun rise over the small lake in my parents
backyard, early in the am..

Some of you know more than others, but I don’t have the time nor capacity to
catch you up.. so sorry to shock anyone.. but suffice it to say, for those who know nothing, my parents and family have had a crazy 10 days. My mom was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer 10 days ago after having back pain, and sleeping most of her day, for a few weeks. She did a petscan, and for the first time, they found cancer.

It was all through her body – it started in the lungs, and now is in her brain, and actually broke her lower back.  I flew her that night on the last plane out of SF w/ my girls to be here right away, as instructed by Hospice. That was 11 days ago. Within an hour of being here, my Dad missed a step while we were checking into a hotel, and he destroyed his knee cap. Both of them were at the same hospital, so we spent a week going back and forth to their rooms. what a scene.. hospice in one building, intensive care in another building.. with Gelfand’s criss crossing all day and into the night. My siblings, Beth, Marcy, Rose and Talia, and nieces have all been remarkable and amazing.

That’s the background to this update below.. Life as we knew it will never be the same here.

Thank you for your love and prayers. I love sharing life with you.

I’m on 7am watch as the night care person has left, and the am person arrives at 8am.
My MOM is sleeping peacefully as we write, filled with the awareness of love surrounding her
24 hrs a day. Last night she was telling stories, with a clear mind, about her escapades as a wild young woman. I had to keep Talia and Rose playing cards and out of the room, as the stories were not guaranteed to be family entertainment.  ANYTHING can come out of her now – total permission and uncensored - and you really never know what she will say, or when something happened to her. But the river of words is deep and flowing out of her, and some of it is shocking past history and has never been uttered before to us.

She is doing well.. not in any pain, comfortable, and still eating and drinking.
She says, “I love you!” to anyone who comes across her path.. non-stop, no matter how many times you leave and re-enter the scene. She looks out over her bedroom window, out to her beloved birds that come to say hi, and visit her lake. There is a beautiful fountain in the middle of the lake that never sleeps, and keeps the sound of water lapping in your ears.. lovely.

Before we move her around (change her diaper, clean her, wash her, rotate her), we’ll give her
some morphine to dull the pain of being mostly skin and bone, as the bones creak and ache
so easily now. It’s a little liquid in her mouth with a syringe, and it works well to help her be pain free. She has other drugs as well, and the combination seems perfect, as she has many many hours of clarity and attentiveness, and she also has hours of sleep. Not too much, not too little.. very balanced at this stage. And that could change any day, and hour.

As soon as she wakens, there is Talia, Rose, my 2 brothers, my sister, Beth, my 2 nieces, my sister-in-law, the caregiver she’s come to love over the past 3 years who tends to her, or myself RIGHT there to say hi, welcome back to your bedroom, we love you. I wish everyone could say goodbye and leave their body so peacefully. Slowly, calmly, lovingly, be in the presence of their children, grandchildren, and say I love you. Everyday. All day.

At first the Hospice doctor said days, no more.. but now that she is home, the doctor says, she could take months! Only God knows. MY Mother has always kept us waiting… But for now, the intensity of the past 10 days (It was ONLY a little more than a week ago that she was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer out of nowhere!!) has found a new rhythm and pace.. we got all of our systems in place, with the help of Hospice, and she is being held in a cradle of love and peace.

My Father:

Wow.. he fell in the first hour after we arrived in Florida, and has been in Intensive Care for over a week now. He is a complex patient, with heart issues, dialysis 3 x a week, and low blood pressure. They operated on his broken patella, pieced together his knee cap, and had trouble getting his blood pressure up enough, so he had to stay in ICU. Finally, yesterday, he was able to move to the orthopedic ward and a new room – which was great. He has a cast from his waist to his ankle -keeping the knee straight.

ICU is a tough place to be for a day, let alone a week. He seems to be lifting out of his depression and deep sadness from his fall, and moving back into his body to begin living again. ICU takes your spirit away, and you really can slip easily into a sadness of who wants all this pain and body..

When my mom had to leave the hospice ward and we moved her home (they release her if they are not doing anything anymore for her), we had the driver stop by the ICU so my mother and father could see each other – what a moment! She was sleepy and half-there, he was tied up to 25 wires and machines.. But they LOVE each other so much, just to hear each other’s voices was beautiful. And my mom, in her daze, uttered the greatest gift she could give us all.. “I may be dying, but I’m happy. I have my family all here and I love them all so much”. It brought a deep sense of peacefulness to everyone. No one has talked about “dying”.. but she knows. And she’s gonna take her sweet time.

My 2 brothers and sister and I will be here indefinitely, for at least a few more weeks, until we can get my dad home and into a rehab rhythm with systems in place. Bruce will be staying here for the next few months to help him.  We have paid for and planned a funeral for whenever that happens for my Mother, so those details are in place.

There is nothing like deciding on which coffin you want for a loved one.. what a trippy experience.

That’s it for now.. we’re all holding up well i think – being kind to each other, exercising and taking down time when someone else is ON, taking turns and shifts, etc.. my cousin sent us a dinner yesterday from a local restaurant, which was GREAT to receive and not plan. There is so much love here for my parents that is is lovely to talk to their neighbors and community.

Talia and Rose are getting a first-time look at dying and death and seeing it can be graceful, loving, funny, sweet, and warm.. not bloody, morose, and tragic. I am proud of that, and thrilled for them. They will not see death the way it is portrayed in the movies, or fear it in the same way because of this experience. It is the accepted way, the embraced way, and the love that a family feels that I hope will stay a part of them forever. They have been awesome, playing cards with grandma, making her friendship bracelets for her wrist, and kissing her cheeks non-stop when she awakens. Oh, the pure love of a grandchild. It is a nectar that is intoxicating.

Sending you much love, and those thoughts and prayers are working well.. this has been a WILD 10 days for everyone here, but for now, for today, as this hot, sun climbs this morning and everyone awakens, we see progress, less-pain, and all love surrounding us all.

Scotty

oh yeah, final note: they are predicting a 120 miles per hour hurricane “Irene” may pass thru here friday! Somehow, God seems to be saying, “OK, you guys have had it charmed for a lifetime, so I’ll throw everything at ya in a span of 2 weeks!” We’ll be prepared, but it is BIZARRE! The weather has been a mirror of our emotions – raining HARD on and off, with rainbows and double rainbows appearing on a regular basis. The thud of thunder resonating deep into the soul, and the thrill and awe of lightening striking every day around you.. It is hurricane season down here, and every day is a storm, and a release of emotions.. and the sun still shines throughout it all..

Read them and pass on…share on social networks.. etc

dearest friends and family..

happy labor day.. I hope this finds you well. I so appreciate all of the emails and phone calls
letting me know we are being thought of, prayed for, and we feel the great support
of the network of loved ones. It is a GREAT feeling.. it feels like the ocean. Deep and full.

It is healing to write for me. Thanks for being a loved one in my life, that I might share my thoughts with you. Sorry they turn out as long emails, but it feels good.

9/5/11
We have been here almost a month now. Dad is in rehab, working hard to re-train his body
with an injury and full leg cast that is totally limiting. He had to work himself through
depression, morphine induced nightmares, hospital Intensive Care Psychosis ( a term they use when you are in ICU for an extended time – you feel like an experiment is happening ON you! What a nightmare), deep, sadness for not being there for his wife, and anger and frustration for being so distracted that he missed one step, and ruined his life. Tough stuff at (almost) 86 years old (his birthday is Sept 10th). Tough stuff at any age.

But he is a beast. And his warm personality and authentic likability has pushed away all the other obstacles. He is so liked by the staff who change him, give him therapy, nurse him back to life. He is a very hard working therapy patient…

He has been let out of the therapy center 2 times to come home to visit his dying wife. (not allowed by the usual rules) Don’t tell Medicare But we wanted to make sure he had time with his wife before she left her body, and in whatever capacity is left to acknowledge and see him.  It is quite sad for him to see her, as she sleeps maybe 22 hrs a day now.. and when her eyes open, and she “lands” her eyes on you, it is the greatest feeling in the world. Dad had two such moments, and they were precious. To be seen again, to see her LIGHT again turned on and in the room, to know she HEARS him as he says “I love you” – those small and quick moments were everlasting and magnificent.

Mom is slowly leaving her body.. with each passing day she takes less breaths per minute. Her body is almost tiny by now, as the fat has all but drained away to leave just skin and bone. Laying in bed, legs flopped over and lifeless, she might be the length and width of a 4 year old. Her skin is soft and smooth, massaged and lotioned and caressed all day long by loving hands. As I’ve said before, she is dying a Queen’s Death.. and everyone should die like this.

Yesterday, with all 6 of us in the room (Dad visiting for 5 hrs), there was a moment when I thought “this is the moment”.. we were singing one of her favorite songs “I love you, a bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck and a hug around your neck.. I love you” (our family loves musicals, as you could imagine). She opened her eyes, which takes a lot of energy and strength for her now, and sang with us for a line. Then she said “Goodbye everyone” – in the slightest whisper.. and stopped breathing for 2 seconds or so.. and I thought, “Oh my, was that IT??” … and then she started breathing slowly again. It was an amazing moment, but not the one she wanted to leave on. We leave that to her and her God, and her Karmic Path. As witnesses and loved ones, it is so sweet to be so quiet in life as to recognize the in and out of someone’s breath.

This time so reminds me that birth and death are so intertwined and similar. Society lets you go into this womb of time and space, putting aside all other responsibilities as everyone accepts, understands and gives permission to this time in life. It has been weeks, and we have stopped working jobs, duties, and regular activities. The world stops turning, life slows down, as everything gets very small and quiet. You go into your nest, into your home, into your bed.. Friends pray for you, families send food, and visit.

In Labor and in Passing, whether at home or the hospital, it is intensive care 24/7 to make sure every need is covered and cared for. Lips are kept moisturized, bodies are rubbed down, positions are turned to manage pain, cold liquids are used to keep thirst away and parched throats at bay, and medicines to manage pain are an arms length away. Everything is about the person in front of you. They are all that matters.

When the baby comes, and in those first few days of life, it is eerily similar to watching a person passing. You await for them to open their eyes, sit by their side for hours and hours, just hoping for a moment, and if you’re lucky, their gaze will fall upon you. And if that gaze is empty and distant, you understand – they are not really inside there.

But if you feel their eyes are on you, really SEE you, then your heart lights up like the rays of the sun and LIFE itself shoots right through your body. What a feeling. I had it with both of my girls at that stage of life, and I have it with my mother at this stage. The eyes are the window to the soul, and in these moments, that phrase is so true.

When a baby cries out discomfort, you go through your checklist of what can be done to sooth it. Same with my mother. When a baby smiles, it is a miracle to be witnessed, and the feeling in unlike any other smile they will ever give you. Same with my mother. When the baby has a bowel movement, she is cleaned up as quickly as possible – with an urgency that is primal. Same as my mother. When a baby makes sounds, utters something from her voice, the world is put on mute as you try and decipher what those sounds might mean. Same as my mother.

So on this Labor Day, I salute death and birth, leaving and coming, and transitions.
It is LABOR to come to a human body. It is Labor to leave a human body.

And they are both rather amazing to witness.

Much love to you, your family, your life.

Scotty

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