I was born in 1967 into a Jewish middleclass family. I had two parents, a big sister that doted on me, a dog, and lived in a small ranch style house with brick red siding. Nothing terribly exciting and out of the ordinary. These were the days a kid could run around and play outside, and no one worried unless they did not show up for dinner.
My earliest memory was spending time playing outside and going over to Nana Vi's house. The year was 1970. Nana Vi was a nice older woman across the street. I would shyly knock on her door, not even uttering a word to her, and she would invite me in for a cookie. I not only like her for the cookie, but I like her because she treated me so special. She talk to me as I sat on her sofa, even though I rarely said anything in return. It just felt good going over there.
I lost touch with Nana Vi when my family moved to a bigger house in another neighborhood. I have no idea what happened to her, but her memory is still alive in me. I also connect this time we moved away with a time I started losing myself. I wish my kids today had a Nana Vi. Our world can be untrusting. We warn our kids about stranger danger, and in return, they miss out on the Nana Vi's of the world. Why should I bring her up now and use this for my first blog post? She was one of the first people I ever remember showing me pure love and kindness. No reason at all, she just did it. For this, I am so grateful. This blog is my personal journey as I rediscover love, compassion and kindness in the world--and, most of all, I rediscover these qualities in myself.
My earliest memory was spending time playing outside and going over to Nana Vi's house. The year was 1970. Nana Vi was a nice older woman across the street. I would shyly knock on her door, not even uttering a word to her, and she would invite me in for a cookie. I not only like her for the cookie, but I like her because she treated me so special. She talk to me as I sat on her sofa, even though I rarely said anything in return. It just felt good going over there.
I lost touch with Nana Vi when my family moved to a bigger house in another neighborhood. I have no idea what happened to her, but her memory is still alive in me. I also connect this time we moved away with a time I started losing myself. I wish my kids today had a Nana Vi. Our world can be untrusting. We warn our kids about stranger danger, and in return, they miss out on the Nana Vi's of the world. Why should I bring her up now and use this for my first blog post? She was one of the first people I ever remember showing me pure love and kindness. No reason at all, she just did it. For this, I am so grateful. This blog is my personal journey as I rediscover love, compassion and kindness in the world--and, most of all, I rediscover these qualities in myself.
