Rachel Michelberg - Crash: How I Became a Reluctant Caregiver

CRASH

Copyright 2021, Rachel Michelberg

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Published 2021

Printed in the United States of America

Print ISBN: 978-1-64742-032-1

E-ISBN: 978-1-64742-033-8

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020914018

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Interior design by Tabitha Lahr

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There are as many versions of every familys history as there are family members. This is mine. Some names of people and places have been changed.

For the caregivers.

Lifes challenges are not supposed to paralyze you; theyre supposed to help you discover who you are.

BERNICE JOHNSON REAGON

You dont have to choose how youre going to die or when. You can only decide how youre going to live.

JOAN BAEZ

God gave burdens; he also gave shoulders.

YIDDISH PROVERB

SEPTEMBER, 2013

I throw the diamond in the trash.

Not on purpose. For X-rays before abdominal surgery, Im instructed to remove my clothes and all jewelry. Last, I unclasp the necklace made with the diamond from my engagement ring. I should put this in my purse. But Im agitated about going under the scalpel and it goes in the plastic bag with white handles, along with shoes, blouse, bra, and purse.

Kaiser is terrible at recycling, Im thinking as I throw the bag away after the procedure. So wasteful. I ought to write a letter.

Stepping out of the shower the next morning I catch the reflection of my bare neck through the foggy mirror. I see my diamond in the plastic bag with the white handles, the bag in the trash can. I see an orderly emptying the can into one of several dumpsters behind the hospital.

I have thrown David away. Again.

I WAS ENGAGED THREE TIMES BEFORE I finally married David, number four.

Number one was my college sweetheart. Number two was a jazz pianist, an academic.

Number three was Kenny the Surgeon. I was madly in love. He was smart, funny, not very tall but attractive in a Jewish doctor kind of way. At best the relationship was rocky. Kenny wouldnt make the commitment. Id fume and leave; hed beg to have me back, withdraw again; Id get pissed and break up. We were in breakup mode when a friend called. Was I interested in meeting her coworker?

Hes tall and cute, with blue eyes. Hes Jewish. Grew up in Germany. Didnt you spend some time there?

Good timing. Give him my number.

David and I had a nice chat a few days later. He was delighted that I knew German and invited me to practice. Id become rusty and was embarrassed.

He picked me up for a dinner date a few days later. Over carpaccio and veal marsala at a sweet little Italian bistro in Palo Alto, he told me what it had been like growing up in Munich in the 60s as a Jewhow hed learned to be suspicious of gentiles, the goyim. About his father Samuel, who had lost his whole family in the Holocaust but survived Auschwitz and the Death March. Samuel met Maria, a Bavarian Catholic farm girl, in a displaced persons camp on the outskirts of Munich. She was working with the orphans. Theyd divorced after years of Maria raising their three children almost single-handedly while supporting the whole family.

Our mother wasnt Jewish and we were never really accepted by the Jewish community, so Sigi and Doramy brother and sisterand I converted back, to preserve the identity the world had pinned on us, he explained. We were learning to survive our own alien world.

My turn: I was a little embarrassed by my comfy suburban childhood in nearby Sunnyvale. But I was enthusiastic about my role in Norma, the opera I was rehearsing. I also have two day jobs. I do administrative work for a Jewish charity, and Im a synagogue cantor. Thats more of a nights and weekends thing though.

Wait, did you sing at the Holocaust Memorial service last year?

The one in Saratoga? Yes, I was the one who sang in Hungarian. I grimaced. Definitely not in my cadre of comfortable languages.

I was there! I thought you were so hot but I didnt think it would be appropriate to hit on the cantor.

We laughed. This would be a story retold with delight.

As first dates go, it was good. He was smart, attractive, attentive. He drove an older chocolate-brown Mercedes convertible. His lilting, soft Bavarian accent was seductive, and his exotic European stories promised me access to the world beyond Silicon Valley. Most important, he wanted to see me again. This could be alright.

Later that week Kenny showed up with a ring. I left David a voicemail, thanking him again for the dinner, but I was terribly sorry it wasnt going to work out. I dont remember mentioning that Id become engaged.

David didnt let me forget that Id broken up with him once via voicemail. In fact, he brought it up whenever people asked how we met. I always tried to add context (Well, wed only had one date). Im just teasing, hed say. I wasnt amused.

Six months later my relationship with Kenny was capsizing when I ran into David in the parking lot of a gourmet grocery store in Woodside. And I looked itmakeup-less, puffy-eyed, baggy sweats, unwashed ponytail. By the time I saw him it was too latehed seen me. I wanted to crawl under a BMW and hide.

Oh hi! I chirped, despite my despondent mood. My actress persona was professionally trained.

Davids grey-blue eyes were wide and welcoming. If he noticed how disheveled I looked, he didnt let on. Pressed jeans, classy shoes, button-down shirt and blazer: he showed well.

Rachel! How are you? What are you doing here?

How much did I want him to know? I live here now. Id moved in with Kenny, though later that day I would move out.

David cocked his head and gazed at me. You OK?

I felt my mouth tightening against tears. I wanted to blurt out the operatic drama of my pathetic love life. I wanted to throw myself in his arms. I wanted him to adore me as willingly as Kenny was surgically unwilling.

Legs like jelly, I leaned against the BMW for support. A little stressed right now. I forced a smile. Im OK. Am I a performer or a good liar? Its good to see you. I have to get out of here. Well, it was nice running into you. Tschuss! I chirped, calling up the casual German word for goodbye. I felt Davids eyes on me as I zig-zagged through the lot to my little blue Honda Civic.

Tears erupted in huge, choking sobs as I wound the hilly road back to Kennys place to finish packing. Id never felt so alone. All of my failures had collected into a giant, asphyxiating ball pressing on my chest. My fantasy life as a surgeons wifeand probably anyones wifewas over. I wailed and gasped for breath, driving the windy road by rote.