A "visit" to Ricki

Last Thursday was (in the Hebrew calendar  a full half year since Ricki's death. ( That fact alone is hard for me to believe. It seems just yesterday she was here. Maybe that's because she is in my thoughts a lot...) Anyway, I had planned to mark the day by visiting her grave site  But I just simply didn't manage . I had been up late Wednesday night finishing up a dress for a family occasion, so I got a late start on Thursday. Add to that expected guests coming for the weekend.... So I realized that if I wanted to arrive in a halfway normal state to the family celebration, the living would need to take precedence over the dead, and the visit to the cemetery would have to wait. 

So Sunday I went to visit Ricki's grave. And that means that I probably will accomplish less of certain on-line commitments than I had hoped to do. But that is OK with me; my real life must take precedence over my virtual friends. And as much as I would like to be perfect and "do it all", the question of "at what price?" begs asking. 
Can we accept ourselves as imperfect creatures? Can we celebrate our successes without getting dragged down by our failures? Can we internalize the need to accept ourselves as a "journey in progress"? 
Very often we feel that if we can't do something 100%, we should not attempt it at all. This outlook is nearly always not called for: 
-If you can't get 8 hors of sleep at night, so aim for 6 rather than giving up and settling for 5 or less... 
-If you break your diet, no excuse to gave a super-binge... Limit the damage.....

In loving memory of "ricki"  [Photo: picture of mosaic I did at her grave, for a lovely teen who flew away so fast.]

Smilies and Smiles

   I had a slightly rough night last night. On thursday I slid on sand, taking a spill, and hit my left chest. So now my muscles on that side are sore. Turning in my sleep took me a couple of minutes each time.
   This morning I barely woke up in time to see my youngest (living) son off to the army for a two week stint. He had already left a note, wishing me a good day:
(picture: Note in Hebrew with a smilie and "good morning!")

  So we smoozed for a few minutes, and I garnered a few real smiles as well.
  Such a simple thing... but it made my day. Turned my mood around.
   So be generous today and beam some smiles to those around you. You may, so easily, improve their day.....

Rio!

Photo: Rio de Janeiro

    One of the reasons I have been writing so little as of late is because I wasn't home, and had no appreciable amount of internet connection. This is because I recently spent a week with my husband and two of my sons, visiting Rio de Janeiro (in Brazil). The views were gorgeous. But of how often did I think during the trip : "Gosh, I wish Ricki was here to see this with us." And it turned out that three of the four of us had experienced the same thought.

I Accuse!

   Today, January 23^rd, is a day that is being promoted as a day " to commemorate the lives lived by people with disabilities who were locked away, who ARE locked away from full participation in society. It was also established to remember those, our elders, who have worked tirelessly for inclusion and access, for the word 'all' to actually mean 'all'" (Dave Hingsburger).   Here are my thoughts……

PRELUDE

   Ricki was lucky in many respects. She lived in an era past those of the big institution, the likes of which I once saw (shortly before their closing) in the early 1970's.  But Ricki (and through her, I) were witness to part of the continuing struggle to let society realize that people with intellectual disabilities are PEOPLE, and can be valued and productive ones as well.

   How numerous were the times that people addressed me rather than Ricki in asking questions that could have been directed to her……

   How often did I witness people underestimating her due to the obvious fact that she had Down syndrome……

    How often did people assume that I was a "saint" because I had Ricki? (I won't say she was always an easy teenager, but few teens are.) Sometimes when people stop me and try to console me by saying that "You did everything you could", do they realize that guilt is NOT my problem, but that I simply MISS her?!?

   And one of the things I have felt most since Ricki's death is that I want her to be REMEMBERED, not just to be an entity that disappeared.

   We accomplished what we did in the battle for Ricki's inclusion due to the work of many advocates before us. Today I salute them. And I try to comprehend that there is a huge population, of institutionalized adults, that no one remembers.

  And I remember with sadness the terrible stain on mankind who agreed for era after era to shut away those who were different, less abled, and sometimes less productive.

   The terrific prejudice and assumptions that follow those with disabilities still exists today. And to a large extent, isolation from the larger community is still very prevalent. And this is something we need to keep working at……

I Accuse

   One of the battles we are still fighting for today is that of equality in medical services. Battles for the right to heart transplants, and other services for the intellectually disabled is not yet over. And this battle extends not only to those areas where there is a choice between "this" recipient, or "that" one, but even a general consideration that the lives of those with intellectual disabilities is one worth living.

   Ricki was taking a psychiatric drug (Resperdal) for the last two years of her life. She needed the drug, without question, but it is a drug known to cause weight gain. Ricki had always been on the "full" side, but she was active, and we were working on curbing her eating. But with the Resperdal her weight ballooned. We asked the doctor is there was no other medicine appropriate for her, and she said "No. There IS a drug that acts in the same way, and doesn't cause weight gain, but the health fund almost never prescribes it, and it costs $200 a month." We asked her to apply for an exception for Ricki, but she refused. "They NEVER agree to cover the cost for those with intellectual disabilities; they assume that anyway they will be fat. It's a waste of time to apply."

  So we went a different route: putting up the gate to block off the kitchen, checking that the school only gave her one portion at lunch, etc. If we had known that her weight would have lethal effects so quickly, we would have paid the monthly $200. I thought we had time. We would have fought the health fund without the doctor's help. But in my mind, the prejudice of the health fund helped kill my daughter.

A Whole lot of Mistakes

   The first mistake was that of the drug company to run out of medicinal cream that my husband needed. I went to a few local pharmacies, but none had the ointment he needs this week...and all blamed the drug company. (He needed 2 ointments, and none had the first med; one pharmacist did have the second, but I didn't buy it, as I needed the prescription for the first, more important salve.)

   So I called the health fund for help, and they located a tube of the first ointment in the health fund pharmacy about 20 minutes walk away. So I told the pharmacy  to save it for me, I would be coming. I could have taken the bus, but not yet having gotten my 10,000 daily steps in for the day, I elected to walk.

   Here I need to explain that I don't like wearing my boots. I have rather large feet, and the only boots I have found in my size have relatively smooth soles, and are not conducive to quick (ie, aerobic) walking. So I only wear them when I REALLY need to.   Now this morning I had been out, and the weather had been fairly dry for what had been forcasted as a very  "rainy day". So since it wasn't raining when I left the house, I wore regular shoes.  That was MY mistake.

 To make a long story short, I was caught in a deluge. Heavy rains and gusty winds drenched me. In addition, road construction forced me to walk through ankle-high rivulets. And then from the pharmacy I had to take a bus to past my house, to return to the first pharmacy in order to obtain the SECOND ointment. (For some reason, the health fund pharmacy didn't have it, only the first….). From there I had to walk home, again in the pouring rain.

   Now I am NOT complaining about the rain. We need every drop.But I hope I learned my lesson to wear my boots more often. And of course, on arriving home I plucked a pair of warm socks from my drawer, and put them on the radiator. Then I went to change my sodden skirt, and topped that off with wearing the warmed-up socks.

   I'm glad that at least I got the last bit of my aerobic walking in for the day. Maybe tomorrow I'll try canoeing……

Remembering

   Dave Hingsburger at his blog Rolling Around in My Mind, has advocated making January 23^rd a day " to commemorate the lives lived by people with disabilities who were locked away, who ARE locked away from full participation in society. It was also established to remember those, our elders, who have worked tirelessly for inclusion and access, for the word 'all' to actually mean 'all'."

   His story as to why he chose this date, posted last year, is also telling:

 "I have always, for example, marked January 23rd in my calendar as a day to remember. Let me tell you why. Sandra Jensen was a woman with Down syndrome who was denied a heart transplant because of her disability. It seems that people thought that a perfectly good heart should go to a perfectly good person - and though Sandra lived a life of quality and contribution, she was not considered. In fact, a transplant had never been given to someone with an intellectual disability. They didn't know who they were dealing with.

  Sandra was an advocate and she began. She fought against prejudice. She fought against stereotype. She fought against hatred. Her message was one of hope and power. She wanted her life to be valued. She wanted everyone to know that she loved living and the she rejected any notion of 'better off dead'. She stood for all people with disabilities. She stood for all to be valued. She fought and she fought hard. And she won. On January 23rd, 1996, she got her heart."

   I am planning on writing a special post for that day. And please spread the word. Because the battle for full acceptance of those with disabilities is far from over.

Ricki's Bed

   One of the perks of having a son-in-law who\se occupation is doing refurbishing and construction work is that sometimes well-to-do clients give him their "old" furniture. And sometimes he gives that almost-as-good-as-new stuff to us.

   So tonight I returned home at 11 pm, only to find my exhausted son-in-law schlepping  (dragging) new beds up the three flights of stairs to our apartment.. He had mentioned a few days ago that he could give me a new bed for what used to be Ricki's room, a room that "Y", my current army son, uses on weekends. I jumped at the chance, because the old bed was absolutely decrepit.

    However, the biggest drawback to the old bed was its weight. It had a built-in drawer that made it extremely heavy. And in Ricki's narrow room, moving the bed a bit (to clean) was a real chore. Cleaning thoroughly beneath it was nigh impossible, and I only attempted that once a year, before Passover. To move the bed meant removing my computer and it's table from Ricki's room, and then pushing the bed from side to side in the narrow half-a-room-sized space. And even like this, there was an inch or two of floor space that I could only clean by throwing water under the bed, and trying to swish the dirt out with the flow of water.

   But tonight my son-in-law had already dismembered the old bed, and the room was empty, the new bed not having been put in yet. There was, obviously, a whole pile of dirt and dust on the floor, and I went to get the broom. I wondered if maybe I would find in the dust pile on of Ricki's long-last golden earing.

   No such luck. Only the last remains of some candy wrappers.

Haveil Havalim #392 - End of 2012 edition

  Again I am hosting “Haveil Havalim”, a roundup of posts from the Jewish blogsphere, carnival style. Founded by Soccer Dad, Haveil Havalim is a carnival of Jewish blogs — a weekly collection of Jewish & Israeli blog highlights, tidbits and points of interest collected from blogs all around the world. It’s hosted by different bloggers each week and is organized by way of our facebook page.. [The term "Haveil Havalim," which means “Vanity of Vanities,” is from Koheleth, (Ecclesiastes) which was written by King Solom.] Any blogger wishing to be a part of this needs to join the facebook group, and there he can check each week who is hosting and to whom you need to email your weekly posts. (When submitting posts, remember that they should be from the last week.)

[Disclaimer: My posting of Havel Havelim does not mean that I agree with every viewpoint of these blogs.]

Judaism, Torah

Batya of Shiloh Musings presents "True Leadership, King David vs King Sauland More From The Bible"

Then from the blog "ThinkJudaism" we have two posts, one by Yitzchak Sprung,

'Is Tanya Heresy?Rambam wants to kill Chabad" . As you might expect with a title like that, he received some rather angry comments…..

   And the second entry from "ThinkJudaism" is one by Gene Matanky , titled "A response toRabbi Sacks: survival of the religious".

ISRAEL

   Ever-prolific Batya of Me-ander (and Shiloh Musings) sends us
"I Have Nothing Against English………. ". an interesting comment on store signs.

    Jacob Richman posts New Video: Learn Hebrew Phrases - Cooking and Baking on his blog "Good News From Israel" and it is a real Hebrew lesson for any who need it.

 Sharon Altshul of "The Real Jerusalem Streets" is very hopeful in "25 New Reasons there's Hope for Futurein Israel"

PERSONAL
   I (Rickismom of "Beneath the Wings") give you a look at how women want it all, in "Feeling Young, Looking Older"

Best of 2012

   Finally, I want to end this edition of “Haveil Havalim” with a special feature: posts considered by their authors (or others) to be their "best post" of 2012.

Rivkah of Bat Aliyah submits "My Father Sent Me" On her journey to making aliyah.

Yosef of "This American Bite" presents a recipe, but much more than that.

  Batya (this time posting on"Shiloh Musings" sent me "Déjà Vu, The Bible: Did OurWaiting IDF Reservists Feel Like.... "

The "Best of 2012" submission of ThinkJudaism was "Why The Modern Orthodox ShouldSuffer The Most"

   In this post he asks why Pesach and Yom Kippur, the two most difficult Jewish holidays are the ones most adhered to…. And reaches some conclusions as a result.

   Finally my contribution for the "best of 2012" is "Perceptions of our Challenges"

I have a few nominations for "Best of the year: from

1) DRYBONES

2) A SOLDIER'S MOTHER

Progress

  Thank G-d I did not gain this week- I stayed the same, which considering my overeating over the weekend, is good enough.  I probably managed that because this week I REALLY tried hard to keep to my plan,

[image: Drawing of swimmer.] 

  But my real progress has been with exercise. My aerobic walking speed has increased from 1100 steps in 10 minutes to up to 1200. And tonight I swam 50 laps-which I have done in the past, BUT the first 40 laps (my normal amount) I did in record time. Once it took me an hour to do the 40 laps (which equal a kilometer), and recently I managed to do them in about 56 minutes. Tonight I did them in 53. THAT'S progress!

Feeling Young, looking older

When I was obese, people used to tell me I had a "young face". Well, the last five to ten kilos (I have lost 75) have given me a LOT of wrinkles. But I knew that this would happen, and when I started losing I said: 
I can look young and feel old (staying overweight) OR 
I can look old and feel young. 

And I am glad I chose the second! 
I FEEL SSOO much younger.  

The only problem is that now I want to look young, too!    In spite of reading Batya's post...)

AAUUGG!!

   Mrs.-lost-75-kilos managed to break her diet royally over Thursday evening, Friday, and Shabbas.

  

   But just saying "I goofed", "I flopped", or the like is not going to prevent it from happening again, is it?

   So I tried to figure out what was going on. OK- there was emotional eating involved; I had a lot going on and a lot of stress.

Then I remembered how little an amount of sleep I got Thursday evening.

And due to heavy rainfall, I did not go walking on Friday.

 Analysis:

  I was stressed out, and fell back on emotional eating. Then, not walking compounded the problem, as I find walking a good stress-reducer. And perhaps I am more "forgiving" of slips over the weekend.

Plan:

1)     Have substitutes ways to deal with stress when walking isn't possible: reading, knitting, listening to music, dancing in the house, etc.

2)     Get my sleep – practically, by cutting down on computer time.

3)     Figure out some reward for keeping on track over shabbas.

The Discount

    Ricki's water consumption had always been plentiful. She changed her clothes several times a day and bathed frequently as well. This was tolerable until about a year ago, when the water company added a higher tariff for "copious" water usage. And due to Ricki's frequent bathes, and the resulting high number of loads of laundry, we fit the criteria. Our water bill sky rocketed. I wrote the company a letter, explaining why it was not fair that we pay the higher tariff.

   This week, I received a letter from the water company. They have decided to give parents of children with special needs a discount. We just need to inform them if she is no longer living at this address.

    Unfortunately, You're a bit late, I informed them……

Spontaneity

    Several weeks ago while walking one evening at dusk, I happened upon a small narrow park that runs between houses on either side for about five blocks. While it was a cute little addition to my list of "green" places to walk,  I didn't happen to return to it until this last Saturday.

   Saturday morning I had taken a nice walk, but knowing that I would be traveling after shabbas to a "final night of Channukah" get-together at the house of one of my sons, I decided that a little bit more calorie-burning exercise would be prudent.** And since my son was willing to join me, I was glad indeed to go walking.

   It just so happened that we walked to an area near the above-mentioned park, so I mentioned to my son that I have a cute place to show him. We reached it soon enough and he agreed that it was pretty nice. When we finally walked to the end of the stretch, and reached a city street, we were about to turn back when something caught my eye. I hadn't noticed it, in the dark, the first time I was there… but now I perceived that across the street, and a bit to the left, there seemed to be a small road leading steeply uphill.

   "Hey, look at that road- maybe there is a nice view from up there…"

   So the two of us traipsed up the hill, discovering a small park at the top. And from there we beheld  a magnificent view of Tel Aviv, and the Mediterranean beyond. (We were walking in a suburb of Tel Aviv.) So Monday I returned, camera in hand:

(picture: view of Tel Aviv)

   Oh, the title of this post, you are wondering??  We discovered this view because we had the spontaneity to check out that little road to the left…….

 (**On Shabbat I walk only if I feel like it, and at a slower pace than on weekdays.)

Losing Weight- For ME or My Ego???

   Although "Beneath the Wings" was originally a blog meant to deal with living with a teen with Down syndrome, my first post was about being overweight:

Yesterday on the bus... living fat.

Yesterday I was on the bus, and as I boarded, I automatically checked first to see if the one slightly-wider-than-most-seat was available. It wasn't, being occupied, ironically, by a waif-like wisp of a teenager. Of course. The single seats were taken as well. I like them, because even though they are a bit of a tight fit, I can relax when seated there, knowing that I am not infringing on anyone else's space. So I choose to stand, not feeling comfortable to squeeze in next to someone else. Luckily, a single seat soon was vacated, and I scooted over to sit down.

A few moments later, a woman who looks even larger than me entered, and sat down in a double seat. I even did a reality check: "Is she REALLY that much more overweight than me? Maybe I am underestimating my size?" (After all, I nearly ever look into a full-length mirror....) However, I decided that even so, she was definitely more overweight than myself. Then I wondered: Does she also feel frustrated by her weight? Is she afraid of infringing on others? Does she feel guilty for filling two seats? Is she feeling exasperated that others label her solely on the basis of her physical dimensions? (Which I was doing up to that point, I must confess.)

Amazingly, a thiny-minny teen soon filled the half-spot next to her. Was the overweight lady pleased to have someone next to her? And why do I care so much about whatever is going on in her mind?

   *     *     *     *      *   

That post was written over 5 years ago. In the interim, I have lost 75 kilos. I am viewed by others as having pretty much a normal weight. I certainly no longer get the type of snide comments, glances, and judgments that are part and parcel of the public life of anyone who is extremely overweight.

   But I still wonder over that last sentence from that post:   "And why do I care so much about whatever is going on in her mind?" Here are some thoughts:

   I believe that people who are overweight should try and lose weight. Let's face it, the quality of life, the state of our health, is so much better when we are thin. It is definitely worth the effort.

  Do I believe that I am per se a better person because I am not fat? NO. NO.  NO.  Yes, I have grown from the journey—but most of us have something in our lives that we grow from. That is what life is about, improving ourselves. So while I am a better, stronger person than I was 5 years ago, that is due to the changes in my personality arising from meeting a challenge, not to being thin in and of itself.

   And yet, I must admit that I enjoy the compliments I receive.

   In a way I feel a bit guilty for that, as if by accepting those compliments, I am validating society's warped view that sees people who are overweight as intrinsically inferior. (Yes, that sounds harsh, but often that is the message society is sending us.)   I want to be thin, in order to be as healthy and energetic as possible. As for my ego, I wish he would remember that my worth depends on G-d's opinion of me—due to my actions – and certainly not due to my weight (or lack of it….)

"Have You Recovered?"

    I was pretty sure I would never sit in our pediatrician's office again. With Ricki dead, and all the other "kids" being at an age above the 18-year-old cut off age for pediatricians, it was pretty much a foregone conclusion that unless I would run into her doctor on the street, I wouldn't see her pediatrician. After Ricki's death I wondered what he would say if he saw me, but knew that it would be awkward for him, at best.  I am sure every doctor queries himself what could have been done different to prevent a death.

   Well, this afternoon found me sitting in his office, doing a favor for my daughter, whose son goes to the same doctor. Both He and his secretary asked me straight away "Have you recovered?"

   I answered "Yes", but thought to myself that it was a pretty stupid question. Ask how I am, how I am faring, yes. Recovered?!? Sorry, you never recover from the death of a child.

Walking for the Strangest Reasons….

   Today I took a long walk for a strange reason.... Today is one of the eight days of Hanukkah. And the traditional fare for the holiday,here in Israel are round circular jelly-filled doughnuts  calorie bombs.  

     Now I can do without jelly doughnuts; the other traditional food, fried potato "latkes" are much more tempting to me. However, one of the local coffee shops has complicated matters by making butterscotch doughnuts. And I love butterscotch... 
    So this morning, despite the forecasted rain, I took my favorite long walk, from my house to the ocean, and along the port area, JUST so I would burn off enough calories to enable quilt- free consumption of a butterscotch doughnut. A bit crazy, I know, but what the h-ll, even I want a donut for Hanukkah..... 

Oh, and I was rewarded for my efforts with a wonderful view of the storm clouds coming in, and a roaring wavy ocean!!!! 

PS : later I was dancing all around my kitchen : with all that sugar in my system I was ENERGETICALLY "flying"! LOL!!!!

The Motzai Shabbas Walk

Part One:

   Saturday evening ("motzai shabbas") I was feeling a bit blue. I felt like a pity party was coming to me. Hanukkah had started--- everyone seemed in a festive mood-- but me. 

   I missed Ricki. This is the first Hanukah we have without her. In addition none of my kids were here to celebrate the first night with us.... and in addition,  a certain member of the family had criticized me the whole day. (That was THEIR problem, but it was beginning to get to me.....) 

    Finally, I went out for a walk. After an hour, my mood started to lift. Slowly, as the endorphins flooded my system, my mood lightened.

What happened? Nothing. Ricki is still dead, my other problems continue. But I was glad to be taking care of my health. I was glad to get out of the house a bit. I enjoyed MOVING my body. 

When things go wrong we can drown in pity.... or get up and do what we can with the life that we have! 

Part Two:

    Back in October I blogged about falling a few times (replete with black eyes), and how I finally figured out that I was tripping over a certain too-loose (and therefore too-long) skirt. 
    So this last Saturday evening  I fell again.
    This last time I wasn't sure if I just didn't see an uneven part in the sidewalk (my Dad, RIP, always DID tell me to stop dragging my feet...)... or if my winter Sabbath skirt from last year (which is what I was wearing) is the instigator of this commotion. The skirt is a BIT lose, but not that much. Or so I thought. 
    I just may shorten all my skirts a few centimeters. [If I keep falling I just might risk doing a "humpty Dumpty" move and break something that will put me out of walking for a while.] 
    And of course, when I fell SOMEONE had to witness it (can't get away with falling unobserved, it seems). 2 young bicyclers across the street stopped, and as I got up asked if I was OK 
"I'm fine, I seem to do this every once in a while..." 
"Hey, watch over yourself. Take care..." 
Yeah, I better..... 

The Store Owner's Lie

[image: lady clothes shopping]

    I knew it wasn't true. And he was probably just trying to get a sale…

    I was out shopping for my last winter-wardrobe item, a nice skirt for the Sabbath.  I had even considered sewing myself one (years ago I had to sew EVERYTHING I wore…)… but noticing the prices in the stores I passed (in the cheaper Tel-Aviv area), I realized that I could possibly buy for about the same price as buying good cloth. True, the quality would not be as good, but I would be saving myself time.

   I entered a store that had some lovely skirts outside.

-"Do you have skirts in size 46?" (Note: Israeli sizing is different than American.)

-"46?!? But you are THIN! You need only a 44."  [Now he DID have larger sizes. It wasn't as if he was willing me into his largest size.]  It turned out that the size 44 skirts fit perfectly….

   OK, here's the rub: it could be that HIS skirts are marked smaller than true size, in order to give an ego push to the potential client. That's good marketing. (Although in another store I was a 42!)

 And the REAL rub: 44 is not "THIN". If I can barely fit into a few (and not all) one-size garments, I am not "thin".

   HOWEVER, there is a limit to how bad a lie can be. It needs to be half-believable… the store owner is not going to say I look like a twenty year old…

   And, quite frankly, I never even DREMPT, in my 61 years of life, that ANYONE, even a store owner drumming up business, would call me "thin"!!! NEVER!

(Me to myself:   "Thin?!? Really?!??? ... no... but on the way there!!!!"  ) 
PS: Even 95% of the way there!

Diet "Doughnuts"

[image: diet doughnut with a cup of coffee.]

   Friday morning was the last weekday before Hanukkah, and suddenly I realized that my husband and home-from-the-army-for-the-weekend-soldier-son would undoubtedly be expecting jelly donuts (Israel's typical Hanukkah calorie-bomb) after lighting the menorah Saturday night.

   Now I vowed NOT to fry doughnuts myself; they are too tasty (mine are) and way too fattening. But the store ones (mass-produced) are really not that tasty (too sweet). And besides, if I had even one of them, it would cost me royally- to the tune of about 400 calories.

   Then I remembered a recipe for "baked" doughnut. I dug it out, halved the recipe (knowing that leftovers would be tempting), and made some. I filled them with no-sugar blueberry jam.

   An admission: they don't taste like fried doughnuts. But I had added a bit of brandy extract (NOT brandy, just flavoring), and that, together with the blueberry filling, made them pretty good. Good enough to stave off complaints, and low-calorie enough that I could indulge in one.

   Sometimes the best way to diet is to walk around your yetzer hara (evil inclination), rather than hitting it straight on…..

DANGER!!

    The other day I was walking with a friend, and as we crossed the street, she paused.  A moment later, crossing, she threw me this comment: "I always try and make eye contact with the driver before crossing." Frankly, I thought she was exaggerating a bit.

  I mean, even though walkers have the right of way, obviously it is better to be careful. I mean, if I am walking for my health, I certainly want to take the care needed not to get run over. But a car that has stopped for you has stopped, no?

  Not necessarily.

   Tonight (Monday PM), I went swimming, and felt GREAT! I even, finally after a year and a half of swimming, cut down my time for 40 laps (1 kilometer) from 60 minutes to 56. [Doesn't sound like much? Well, for over a year I've been trying to increase my speed with no success until now.] Walking home I felt energetic,

  As I was crossing a street, I saw the car that was coming brake to a stop, and as I started passing in front of him, he started accelerating. I gave a scream and he stopped, mumbling "Sorry".

[SORRY!?!?!? That's ALL?!?!?!?!]  

   I figure that he had stopped to look at his cellphone (or the like), and accelerated when finished, unfortunately without looking first (maybe since it was 11:30 PM).

Lesson learned: Make eye contact with the driver when crossing the street…..