OyChicago blog

My grandma is the strong and silent type.  At least she tries to be.

When we take my grandma out to lunch (more like she takes us out – she never lets us pay), she typically remains quiet while we fill her in on the latest family gossip and share the details of our lives.  When we ask her what is new with her, we usually get a quick response of, “nothing much” and when you ask her about her opinion on the decisions of our family members, 95 percent of the time, she’ll say, “I’m just the grandmother, I don’t mix in” and leaves it at that.

There is however, an exception to this rule.  My grandma’s other 5 % is hysterical.  She will never criticize anyone directly, but every so often, she will be sitting with me and my mother and inadvertently make a very blunt comment about another family member.  Like, “Have you seen the low cut shirts that your cousin has been wearing lately?” or “If only he’d lose 20 pounds, I’m sure he’d have no trouble finding a girlfriend.”  Oy.

Last week, I received an alarming call from my mother letting me know that my grandma was in the hospital.  Worried, I immediately gave my mom the third degree, trying to assess what was wrong and how serious the situation was.

Here is what happened:

That day, my mother had spoken with Grandma Fanny at noon, and all was well.  At 4:00 p.m., my grandma failed to call her best friend Sylvie like she always does each day, so at 4:01 p.m., Sylvie panicked.  Oh, Jewish grandmas.

She frantically called my grandma, who was barely able to answer but told her that she was dizzy and was having major stomach problems, vomiting etc.

Sylvie proceeded to call my mother, Annette, and two uncles, Mardy and Jerry, at home, and received no answer (4:00 p.m. – everyone was at work – duh).  So rather than going over there, she called 911.  Then she realized that she can call my mom’s cell phone, got through, and from there, of course the whole family wass alerted.  My dad and my uncles raced across town to grandma’s house to beat EMS before they broke down her door.

Grandma, G-d bless her, was laying in bed, sick as a dog, and while my father dealt with EMS, my uncle Jerry noticed a small handwritten note on the fridge that hadn’t been there the day before when he had visited:

          If I get sick, it’s from the chicken that Mardy brought me from Giant Eagle.

Oh, Grandma.  I think you’ve been watching too much Seinfeld.  Most people just wouldn’t eat the chicken.  My grandma, bless her heart, eats the chicken that she already has a hunch is bad, and leaves a note to place the blame before the illness even sets in.

While it’s not the best day to be Uncle Mardy, it’s good to be my grandma, because we all love her and rushed to take care of her at a moment’s notice.  And to give my uncle a bit of credit, apparently the illness wasn’t entirely the fault of the chicken.  Grandma is on the mend but suffering not just from food poisoning but vertigo.

The holidays remind me each year how lucky I am to have my grandparents in my life, even when they’re a little crazy.  To all of you reading, take a moment at some point over the high holidays to tell your grandparents to have a happy and healthy new year – and that if the chicken looks bad, it likely is.  Don’t eat it!

“It’s kind of a no-brainer for us.”

“I mean, if you want a list of mohels, I can email you one.”

“For me, it’s more of an aesthetic thing. I had this experience with a guy who wasn’t circumcised…have you ever played with a long water balloon?”

This was the discussion I had with a few friends last week – all of us in our last trimester of pregnancy. And while the water balloon image stuck with me on the playground the next afternoon, I still didn’t get the answer I’d sought.

Two years ago, my husband and I were doing the circumcision debate and wound up in a dead heat. Blessedly, on the last push he yelled, “It’s a girl!” We spent the first eight days of her life in a blissful haze. Our biggest concerns were whether I had the proper breastfeeding latch and if we should reheat more lasagna.

But here we are, almost two years later to the day, still undecided. And this time, even though we’re trying to keep the gender a surprise, even my midwife has called my bump a he. The only name we have so far is Gillespie, because I was so dizzy for the first few months, and now though I’m physically more stable, my mind is still spinning. Here are some of the arguments, opinions, and inconclusive statements from my husband, Jay and me.

Me: Well, it’s been proven circumcision is healthier. I have to check the WHO website but I’m pretty sure.
Jay: I think they’ve found studies both pro- and con- health wise.
Me: Then, how will you explain it to him if he looks different than you?
Jay: I can handle it.
Me: Okay, and there’s also….the covenant thing.
Jay: Yeah, that’s what I thought.

The Covenant Thing. Jay is not Jewish. Which doesn’t upset me, but it does challenge me. To be more aware and honest about my own beliefs. When I first met him, he called himself an atheist.

“But you must believe in something!” I insisted. When he asked me to clarify my own faith, I got defensive and nauseous. I’d spent most of my thirty years obsessive about my prayers and rituals and didn’t know how to distill the importance of the Shema and yahzreit, kissing the mezuzah and Friday night chicken into a pithy response. My relationship with G-d was and continues to be sacrosanct. Jay knows I pray every day for a half hour. He knows not to open the door or interrupt me with anything short of a five-alarm fire. But he doesn’t know exactly what I am reciting or how I am constantly trying to evolve in my daily practice and make it into more of a conversation. Though I take comfort in the Jewish traditions and consider matzoh ball soup the truest form of manna, I have Chungpa Rinpoche and Pema Chodron on my night table, not Martin Buber. I visit the yoga studio a few times a week, and the local temple a few times a year.

Jay’s spirituality has definitely grown in our years together too. Though he was brought up with his parents practicing many different traditions, and his father is now a minister for Unity for Peace, I think studying martial arts is what brought Jay to a stronger belief in a universal connection. I find it incredibly hopeful (and pretty sexy) when he talks about putting positive energy into the world so someone else can feel that space and possibility. I love that we can connect through shared ideas about the power and responsibility of human kindness even if we don’t agree on what lies Beyond.

And yet, our personal journeys with religion do not solve the problem of what to do with our son’s penis. Or do they?

In many ways, Gillespie’s birth feels like my chance to truly uphold my end of the covenant. My parents gave me this inheritance of Judaism, which for so long meant doughy challah, a crush on my rabbi, and a warm temple library where I could find quiet in between Hebrew school classes. The Berit Mila could give my son the support and possible enlightenment of a time-honored tradition. It could give him a sense of belonging and protection, whether he chooses to be actively Jewish or not.

Equally valid are Jay’s ideas that if we do circumcise our son, we are imposing our will on him. Jay feels strongly that whatever we do shouldn’t commit him to any one faith. But if we have a doctor circumcise Gillespie in the hospital with no ceremony, that feels even colder and more barbaric. And what about the sanctity of letting him choose?

I wish this could end in a neat verdict. But it’s more like a to be continued. My role as mother now means keeping this discussion open in my family. Learning to articulate what and why we have our individual beliefs. I used to fear that I would do wrong by G-d. That I would sin so irrevocably, I could never earn His forgiveness. I often still list my mistakes and offenses when I sit down to pray. But I do not believe in a G-d who punishes or excludes someone from His fold because of the shape of his penis. This is what I know clearly, and can say with conviction to all of my children: I believe in a G-d who is all-accepting and all-loving, finding the good in each creature and each blade of grass.

So here is my half of the conversation that I’d like to start, and I hope one day soon my dear boy can answer me if he likes.

Hi, sweet Gillespie. This will be a running theme throughout your life, but Mama’s confused. I want to do right by you but I’m not sure what that is and also what will serve you best in the long run.

The long run? That’s a good question. Well, it means the future, but who am I to predict anything farther than what’s for supper? My job as mama is to live in the present tense with a generous heart and trust. Trust that the world will keep spinning and I will learn from my mistakes and you will find your own relationship with faith and G-d, whatever that means to you. All the covenants and sacrifices and candles and even latkes passed down are reminders of this one essential truth.

So right now? This moment, as you roll your body under my skin and give me such giddy anticipation with your hiccups. Right now, I feel like I should circumcise you so you can enjoy this connection with your Jewish brethren. But I also feel that I should let you be the perfect, untouched creature of astounding beauty that you already are. Connected with all humanity through your steadily beating heart.

And I’m trusting that the answer will come clear soon.

Abby Sher is the author of Amen, Amen, Amen: Memoir of a Girl Who Couldn’t Stop Praying. To learn more about Abby and her book, visit  http://abbysher.com/ .

Joseph G. was just a couple of years old when his family was forced to march to a ravine close to his home in Kyiv, Ukraine. There, Nazi soldiers shot almost the entire Jewish community of Kyiv. Few were able to hide under the piles of bodies and make it to tell the story.

Joseph survived. But his story is even more miraculous because at a time when few were willing to help their Jewish neighbors, a woman decided to act to save at least one person. She pulled Joseph out of a crowd being herded to Babi Yar. The Ukrainian woman was the neighborhood’s street sweeper and hid Joseph throughout World War II and then raised him as her own. No one else from his family survived those harrowing years.

Joseph was among a group of 15 Russian-speaking seniors who visited the Illinois Holocaust Museum and Education Center last week. The seniors are part of the Russian Senior Center at the Dina & Eli Field EZRA Multi-Service Center. Run by two Russian-speaking social workers, the program helps Russian-speaking seniors with filling out paperwork, English-language classes and cultural program, among its many offerings.

For this field trip, I had the privilege of serving as a translator.

I hadn’t been to the museum since it opened. The exhibits cover everything from Jewish life in pre-war Europe to Nazi massacres to the attempts at normalcy in the ghettoes to liberation and life post-war. It’s a hard path to walk, but one that made me keenly aware of all the benefits of living in a free society where my being Jewish – or a woman or Russian or any other way I identify – has no bearing on opportunities afforded to me.

Joseph was particularly agitated when we entered the Museum. He had donated an item to the collection: the medal recognizing his savior as a Righteous Gentile. In fact, a tree has been planted in her honor at Yad Vashem, Israel’s Holocaust museum and the national memorial to victims of the Shoah.

I translated the placards, the sound recordings, the videos and photo captions as we walked through the winding rooms, passing from the dark, angular half into the light half of the Stanley Tigerman-designed Museum.

As we went, the group recalled their own experiences. Like Joseph, many lived in large Jewish communities. Three women remembered living in small towns in present-day Belarus and mourned the lives of their relatives who perished. Another woman was a communications operator for an infantry division. Still others fought with the partisans and only recently discovered information about Jewish partisans in the very same forests – like the Bielski brothers, whose stories were recently made into a film.

Joseph didn’t see his artifact in the collection, but was relieved to find out that it’s carefully catalogued and might be on display when the exhibits change in about six to nine months. He’ll get a postcard from the Museum when the medal is on view.

The visit was much more than a very welcome chance to practice my Russian and my simultaneous translation skills. The two narratives – of the group I was accompanying and of the exhibits themselves – converged into a much fuller, richer story.

I’m so excited for tonight’s Oy!Chicago fro-yo get together at my new favorite hot spot Forever Yogurt.  I LOVE fro-yo.  Love it!  Nothing beats a delicious bowl of smooth, creamy, soft-serve goodness topped with tasty treats.  It doesn’t matter what season, it’s always worth the trip.  I love fro-yo so much that I’ve been known to eat my cup, decide I didn’t get enough and get back in line for another scoop.  I also don’t play favorites.  Whether it’s tart and tangy a la Starfruit or sweeter than sweet a la Love’s, I eat it all.  I actually cried the day Treats closed for good in Lincoln Park. (I’ll forever miss you, blue cotton candy flavored yogurt.)

Jo-Jo’s = the best ice cream spot in Kauai!

I consider myself something of a fro-yo expert, so I thought in light of tonight’s event, I’d compile my list of the top 10 best places for yogurt in the city.

In no particular order they are…

Love’s
Ahh, who doesn’t love Love’s?!  I’ve been frequenting Love’s for as long as I can remember.  Just down the street from my high school, Love’s and I shared many after school dates.  The yogurt is delicious, but it always leaves me wanting more (see above.)  My boyfriend recently discovered the Love’s location at Chicago and Milwaukee (just off the blue line!), and for a man who doesn’t like sweets, he’s obsessed with the peanut butter flavor.

Starfruit
I discovered this place by chance, because it is located next door to my gym.  It quickly rose to the top of my list.  I don’t feel guilty stopping by after a workout because it’s low calories and good for the digestive system.  They have a great product, creamy and even a little sweet, at decent prices and mochi is one of many amazing toppings they offer.

Forever Yogurt
This place isn’t just on the list because we are headed there tonight.  This place kicks butt!  I live just down the street and I’ve made it a habit to visit here for my fro-yo fix.  There are 14 self-serve flavors for you to choose from— my favorites are the red velvet cake, mama’s cake batter and the Reese’s peanut butter cup— and more toppings than any other place I’ve been to.  Just be careful (even with tonight’s 25% discount), this place can be pricey.  It’s easy to overload when you’re in control and at 40 cents an ounce, it won’t come cheap.

Yogunfruz
This places takes probiotic fro-yo to a whole new level with the “mix its.”  They’ll blend any fruit or even chocolate to sweeten up your treat and that’s before toppings.  For those of you who want the benefits of probiotics without the sour taste, Yogunfruz is catering to you.

TCBY
Truly the countries best yogurt and it will forever hold a soft spot in my heart.  Growing up, TCBY was right down the street from my house and my dad I used to go all the time.  We’d both order the white chocolate mousse— it doesn’t get any better than that.

Berrychill
I know people swear by Berrychill’s yogurt, but when I’m looking for a delicious probiotic treat, I usually turn to Starfruit.  The yogurt is slightly sweeter and creamier than the Berrychill stuff, while still chockfull of live active cultures that make it good for your tummy.  I go to Berrychill because it offers hands down my favorite fro-yo topping of all time— smiley face cookies!

Dairy Queen
It was a sad day when Dairy Queen discontinued the “breezes” and gave up selling yogurt in the store all together.  But did you know that a small DQ sundae is only 163 calories or a small vanilla cone is 142 calories?  Who needs yogurt when you can eat the real thing for so little calories?!

Costco
What!?  You don’t go to Costco just for the yogurt?  Well, next time you’re stocking up on massive quantities of paper towels, make a beeline for the yogurt stand (usually located after the check out).  Costco has a great vanilla and they’ll add ton’s of fruit to it all at low Costco prices!  It’s a delicious steal!

TastiDlite
Yes, I know this isn’t actually a Chicago spot, but it is the founder of the guilt free fro-yo movement and therefore deserves a spot on my list.  With so many places popping up these days, I think it’s impressive that TastiDLite has been serving soft serve treats since 1987.  And according to the Tasti D Lite web site, an Illinois location is coming soon— fingers crossed!

Wow Bao
Again, when you think of Wow Bao, you probably don’t think yogurt.  But did you know that the Water Tower location has some of the best yogurt in the city?  Next time you’re in the mood for a few Baos, pair it with a cup of the pomegranate ginger or fresh hibiscus yogurt.  You won’t be sorry!

So there you have it— my top 10 fro-yo spots!  What do you think?  Agree, disagree?

During all the Blackhawk craziness in Chicago I searched and searched for a Jewish connection. Recently, I tracked down former Jewish Blackhawk Steve Dubinsky, who is still involved in the game through his sons and youth hockey. He was a really nice guy to talk to and still a big Hawks fan. Check out my interview with Dubinsky and celebrate the Hawks big win all over again:

The Great Rabbino: Did you follow the Blackhawks throughout the season? If so, how did you celebrate? 
Steve Dubinsky: Yes, I was rooting for them. It was extremely exciting. I was a firm believer that they would win. I was happy for the city and the organization. But on a personal level, it was not my place to celebrate.

What was the highlight of your playing career?
Probably my first goal against Vancouver in 1994.

Who is the greatest player you ever played against?
Probably Gretzky. Maybe Lemieux.

Who is the greatest goalie you ever face?
[Patrick] Roy, for sure.

Did you face any other Jewish hockey players during your time?
Yeah. Both Ronnie Stern and Mathieu Schneider.

What are you up to now?
I am in Edmonton for some youth hockey. There will also be a tournament in Vernon Hills, which will be great. I own a development company. Also, I work with Glacier Ice Arena in Vernon Hills.

Do your kids play?
All three of my boys play. My middle son is actually playing for the Junior Blackhawks.

Which is better: Chicago Stadium or the United Center? 
You just can't compare the old stadium.

Having lived in Chicago, what is your favorite Chicago pizza place?
For sure, Lou Malnatis.

Dubinsky suggested we check out www.selecthockey.com.

Thank you again to Dubinsky for answering our questions and taking the time out to speak with us.

Good luck in the future.

And Let Us Say...Amen.

For more on Jewish Sports check out www.greatrabbino.com