I couldn't bring myself to write on the blog until I had the next free design installment ready for you. When I first told you all that I would be posting this series I thought, "oh, I'll just copy and paste it up on the blog, it should be a no brainer!" But why do things easily if I can make them a project. I decided that I wanted to present the installments in the new ADORN format, redo the illustrations and charts to be their best and just spruce it all up for you. That takes longer.
So here is the next installment. It's about Reid, my husband. Some of you have met him and know he is a sweetheart and very, very encouraging of my work and my love of art. So, Reidi, to you!
My Family – Reid
From my column in Needlepoint Now 2001
I have often heard discussions about whether each of us has a destined partner, one lid for one pot. If that is so, what if this one special mate is half way around the world? How will the magical meeting take place? I don’t consider myself a believer in some great plan that guides each of us to our destiny, but let me tell you a story which tested my disbelief…
In 1985 Reid Willis accepted a three month assignment in the San Francisco Bay Area and upon arriving he began looking for a synagogue to attend. He was told to visit Temple Isaiah in Lafayette, California and a colleague at work joined him for a Friday night service. “It was a packed house that night”, he tells, “It turned out that I was attending a special event. The rabbi was going on sabbatical for a year and the congregation turned out in record numbers to pay tribute to him. Several members of the congregation advanced to the pulpit to sing the praises of this good and wise man. The President of the board spoke, the Executive Vice-President, other board members spoke. And Eva Sulzer spoke. Eva was 90 years old. She was about 4’11” tall and probably tipped the scale at 92 lbs. She had a strong Yiddish accent and a booming voice. She obviously had experience as a public speaker because she spoke eloquently and at length but without the aid of notes. I got a chance to meet Eva after this service and I liked her. She was a character! I made up my mind that I would attend every Friday night services at this synagogue for the following three months of my stay. And I did.”
Reid moved back to Michigan at the end of his assignment. He never saw Eva Sulzer again, but interestingly enough when he moved back to California a few years later, he became friendly with her daughter, Selma Grossman. They both were members of the choir and were very active in the synagogue. For the next five years Reid moved on to make his mark at Temple Isaiah and was elected to the board. On the first Sunday in February of 1992 Reid attended a lecture at the synagogue and found a seat next to his friend Selma. When they had a chance to chat Selma told Reid about her cousin’s daughter, an Israeli named Orna who had come to the States with her 10-year old daughter, Shiri.
“Selma told me that Orna was a teacher in the Sunday School and would I be interested in meeting her? What a nice way to ask, I thought. No pressure, only if I was interested. A few minutes later a woman walked into our room and Selma gave me the elbow. ‘That’s her,’ she said. Yes, I thought, I would be very interested in meeting her.”
Eva Sulzer was my great aunt. I have very warm childhood memories of her. She was a great supporter of my meager attempt at poetry writing and saved paintings and drawings of mine sent to her over the years. During my childhood in the San Francisco Bay Area my family and I would spend many wonderful weekends at Selma’s home, and often Eva would be there with us. When we moved back to Israel in 1969, I continued to correspond with Eva. I saw her very infrequently and was saddened to hear of her death.
In 1985, the year Reid Willis visited Temple Isaiah and met Eva, I was living in Israel. I was divorced by then, working hard to support my daughter and myself and had no plans of ever moving back to the United States. Was it just a coincidence that Reid met my great aunt years before he ever met me? That he walked into the Synagogue on that particular Friday night when my great aunt was on the podium speaking? Was it a coincidence that the day Selma told him about me and then asked if he would like to meet me, just minutes later I walked into the very same room?
Or are we a pot and it’s lid?
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