The Half Story

By Doreen Rubin Stein-Sacks

For many whose formative years were in the nineteen sixties, the music and the political rhetoric of that time was sparked back to life by the impact of the 2020 coronavirus. Under isolation we have all been affected, be it financially, emotionally, or socially. There is an overwhelming emptiness that comes from pandemic angst. I know that even when times seem desperate we can make choices about how we live; I choose words and music. It is not often we get the chance to discover how we got to here and now. This is "The Half Story". How far have we come? Where will we go?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jun 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781105544552

Book preview

The Half Story

Doreen Rubin Stein-Sacks

The Half Story

By Doreen Rubin Stein-Sacks

Category: Biography, Memoirs

All Rights Reserved - Standard Copyright License

Copyright ©Doreen Rubin Stein-Sacks 2020

Title

The Half Story

Contributors

Doreen Rubin Stein-Sacks

Cover design by Madeleine Stein-Sacks

ISBN

978-1-716-45622-0  Print book

Imprint

Lulu.com

License

All Rights Reserved - Standard Copyright License

Copyright Holder Doreen Rubin Stein-Sacks

Copyright Year 2020

ISBN 978-1-105-54455-2 eBook ePub

Imprint: Lulu.com

ISBN  978-1-716-32738-4 eBook pdf

I say unto you: one must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star. Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

Prologue: The Half Story

I have to be up front here- you are only getting half of this story. I do not have the rights to the second half, nor could I tell it as it does not belong to me.

As a teacher of English Language Arts in what most of you would call Middle School- but here in Quebec we call it High School - I tell my students that you write best when you write about what you know.  Fabricating events leads to misinformation, causes doubt, and makes the work less credible. I practice what I preach. Since this is my recollection, everything I say is from my memory and there is no omniscient narrator to provide details or read into the minds of all the other characters.

Why do people write a book? A short story? A poem? A letter? There has to be a reason. They may want to entertain, show you photos or art that appeals to your sense of adventure or creative aesthetic, give you historic perspective, express emotions, or even vent; ultimately they want you to learn something about yourself, the world and human nature. Not everyone will draw the same conclusion from what he has read. We have different experiences, different thought processes and that is why I emphasize to my classes that the theme or meaning of a work is personal and should be supported with quotes from the text. There are many universal truths.

In my writing I have always stuck to events that have happened or impacted me personally. They are related to how I now perceive, metabolize and process. During this Covid-19 pandemic I realized I know quite a bit about a lot of subjects (or maybe I have always recognized this in myself but didn’t want to be boastful) and whatever knowledge I have gained over the years has been simmering in a space in my brain; now I am creating the vessel to serve them. I do not have an incredibly exciting life, but I have lived well and want to continue to live so as to make each day count. I love to walk and listen to music, but I seldom do both at the same time. It is not because I cannot multitask, but I like to spread out the things that give me joy.  It’s like when you look at your plate of food and you eat the savoury protein first, then the creamy dill mashed potatoes and finally if you have room, the vegetable. And, between each bite, you sip from your glass of wine to enjoy what is in front of you.  Each has its own place. I will tackle the sensitive subject of age later in this book because it deserves particular attention and it is important to what I am feeling while distancing.

I have suffered through great sadness but also experienced brilliant periods of happiness; unfortunately, one sometimes leads to another. I have written two other short pieces about those significant moments in my life - the building of our chalet and loss of our son, and the hip-replacement gone wrong - and now, after many years I find myself ready and capable of writing more. The events of 2020 have put us all in various states of confinement on so many levels, so that the written word has become relevant again. If you are not in front of a computer screen, or a T.V. screen, then writing and reading or making art may have been reintroduced into your life. I found my way back to the word. And, I love words. (Right… walking, music and words.)

If you quarantined with family or friends, then your experience may be very different than mine, but in the end I think everyone has done some soul searching over the last six or more months. The days drag on, even as I write this, because there is no end in sight; there may be a second and even third wave, but I hope not. Currently here we are not moving in the right direction as we head from yellow to orange and possible limitations and closures. Storm clouds are looming.

We wait for a vaccine, a sense of normalcy, a return to something that makes us less anxious, more confident, but the wait is so long. People have pandemic fatigue and as the days grow shorter, more are gathering inside and willingly increasing their bubbles. Hey - they opened the schools and there is no better Petrie dish than a classroom or a school full of bubbles!

I am one of the ones who is exempted from returning to my job in the classroom. Don’t worry, I am not ill, I just happen to fall into a susceptible demographic. I have made the difficult choice to remain at home because my government has not put in place enough measures to keep me safe. I could have taken a chance - but Chances Are that someone will cross my path somehow and I will bring the disease home to me. My bubble has been very small…and you know about airborne bubbles…they go pooffff!

My decision to step away from in-person teaching is bittersweet.  I am isolated and removed from a world that is trying to be what it was- but isn’t. I feel that I am being punished, not for my fears, but because I want the best for me and what I have left in this life. I am acutely aware that we do not get to choose how long we have here on this earth; my son only had 22 minutes, my mother 94 years but she was not really living the last 10. So what do you do? You try to do what’s right for you and you alone. It always comes down to personal decisions. Always.

Today, I woke up and decided to use this time that I wouldn’t normally have to write about what I have learned about myself under lockdown/isolation and how even when times are desperate we can make choices about how we live. It is not always pretty, we go through various stages, emotions and ultimately we learn to change or perhaps just adapt, to accept and to follow the best path forward- because we are human. We are hopefully somewhat rational. No human is perfect. The decisions we made when we were seventeen and eighteen do not have to be the ones that guide us through our later years…or maybe they should be the ones, maybe we didn’t trust our youthful dreams enough and chose a life that was predictable and safe. I am not sure what you did, but with all this time I have right now I have questions that may or may not have answers. I may even be using this platform to help me understand myself; how did I get to here and now?

This pandemic gave me the occasion to really think, to dig deep into the memories captured in those yellowing black and white photos and the reams of poems that I started writing at fifteen. Sure there were mitigating factors that provoked this reflection, recollections from my past that came vividly to light; emotions that were buried and decided to resurface; fleeting happiness and the sadness that comes when it disappears.

This – whatever this is, continues my thought processes from another dark introspective place in my life. Putting the words together on the page brings them out from hiding. The Beatles said it best in the song Let it Be. I originally intended to include the lyrics to the many songs that have impacted my life, they really give you context to much of what I describe in my writing, my own soundtrack to The Half Story; however I have learned there is a long convoluted process to obtain the rights to print those words you find yourself singing along to or have buzzing in your head. I am permitted to record those songs but trust me it is not an album you would purchase. Instead, I will have to hope I do them justice by referencing how a song colours our moods and awakens events sleeping in our memories. So in reinterpreting those famous lines, out of sorrow and darkness there is still a ray of light that shines itself on me. Those sounds of music guide me still. Let it be.

I hope my words bring wisdom to us both.

The Timeline

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only. 

Charles Dickens, Tale of Two Cities.

But you knew that? Although Dickens does not make it into many school curriculums anymore, I have always felt he understood his times. And now I feel he understood ours as well. Excellent literature is always relevant beyond its time. I encourage a read or reread.

To start my classes in their study of history I ask them to create a timeline from their birth to the present day. They have to find one significant event for each of their years and match it up with one of great importance in world events. Then, for example they would show a toothless picture of themselves from 2013 and indicate the Tooth Fairy’s first visit; this is matched with the Boston Marathon bombing or the death of Paul Walker from Fast and Furious fame. The choice is theirs. For many of us this would be a monumental task, but they only have to worry about twelve or thirteen years. As each year goes by I see how little they have experienced because my own timeline has grown exponentially and I wonder how I can possibly prepare them for what may lie ahead. I love teaching history because it is about people and the evolution of societies and ultimately it should help us understand how we got to here and now.

2020. Some knew what was coming, they were briefed but held the truth from us. They always know. As we ushered in the New Year people were happy to put 2019 into the history books. To refresh your memory- Donald Trump became the buddy of North Korea’s Kim Jong-un and they even met in the Demilitarized Zone to much pomp; Britain finally made up their mind to exit Brexit (So. Much. Talk); tensions continued in the Persian Gulf; protests were the norm…the people of Hong Kong showed up in force daily, there were others marching in the streets of Chile, Algeria, Russia, Iran, Bolivia, Venezuela, Nicaragua, and too many, many, more places; there was the attack on a mosque in Christchurch New Zealand… one of the safest countries in the world; Notre Dame Cathedral caught fire and burned before our eyes; the Amazon also burned, set ablaze by their very own Brazilians; Greta Thunberg travelled to New York (on a racing yacht) to address a UN climate change conference, famous for her call-out How dare you? I shouldn't be up here. I should be back in school on the other side of the ocean, yet you all come to us young people for hope. How dare you?; and we all learned the meaning of Quid pro quo. There are numerous more events I could list here, but you get the picture, we were ready for a fresh start.

I do not think those of us who go about our normal, conventional lives, really expected the severity of what was to come. I am a teacher (sorry, you already know that) and I like to think I am informed. I watch the news, read, fact check, look at many sides to a story. I try to be relevant. I want my students to express what they think and support their decisions. I am not always right; I can still learn new things. I poke the bear because sometimes you have to provoke to see where people really are. It is easy to be complacent. With these discussions I hope to make those 12-14-year old’s ready to be young educated, empathetic adults.  Thinkers. I want them to really think, not just accept or parrot somebody else’s thoughts, especially not mine.  And if it works we all win.

In January I usually start to dream about those lazy crazy hazy days of summer (Nat King Cole). The winters can be long here, the days are short and planning is a good distraction. Sometimes lyrics from songs pop into my head because I spent twenty years working as the buyer/ marketing/ advertising person at a then successful Canadian music retail chain. (My dream job) And we know what happened to that business, hence me going back to teaching. I digress.

Yes, in January I look at the world map to decide where I will travel to next. I have spent five consecutive vacations in South America. I love the Southern Hemisphere - summer here- winter there. Winter in South America is lovely, cool to cold nights and warmish to hot days for hiking and exploring. The further south you go, the colder it gets, so there are some places such as Patagonia that are off limits until I retire. Staring at the Chilean sky where all the stars and planets are upside down to us here in the Northern Hemisphere is a bucket list moment. The air is cold, there is no ambient light and the sky is plastered with all those twinkling lights. Worth the picture. Worth a hug.

I have written before about the call of the Andes. You gradually make your way up mountains, carefully planting your feet and poles on the rocky uneven terrain; the air is slowly sucked from your lungs at altitude- and then you stop, heart beating furiously in your chest, to breathe in the grandeur of the world around you. Every ounce of energy spent was not wasted.  You will forget that the altitude made your head feel like it was locked in a vice. You will remember the clear blue sky and the rock and the joy