Memoir Coming Soon

Myth of the Yellow Kitchen

My soon to be published memoir, The Myth of the Yellow Kitchen captures what happens when the dream of “living happily ever after” turns into a nightmare–from divorce, from illness or from some other life-changing crisis.

But endings can also be beginnings and my book captures not only the trauma of endings and the struggles of transition, but also the challenge and excitement of new directions and achievements

How did I get from there to here? What were the choices? Enjoy my personal, readable testimony evoking optimism, affirmation, self-realization and humor.

I started writing more than thirty years ago when I sold my house and went from room to room remembering what happened there, who we were, and how we developed. As I walked from room to room I talked into a tape recorder. The essence of that last day before the closing is a chapter in my book, simply called, “The House.” Since then I have not stopped putting my experiences, feelings and satisfaction on paper.

Now writing fuels my passion and creativity. Writing this book, I was often at the computer at five in the morning. Writing helped me capture the magic and mystery of life.

Look for the publishing date.

Warmly,
Rhoada

A letter from a friend….
In my opinion, your book is an important, compelling, exhilarating, eloquent, and immensely gratifying “read”.
Your story as you have conveyed it so articulately, is both extraordinary and representative, though you were notably (for better or worse) ahead of the pack on things ranging from divorce to global professional achievements.
I relished how wonderfully VARIED and comprehensive were the aspects on a life which you portrayed so vividly: Upbringing, Family, Parenting, Love, Learning, Death, Vocation….
What a priceless gift for your family, friends, colleagues and everyone who is interested in life’s journeys–its pitfalls as well as successes.
Ronald Gross, Author: The Lifelong Learner, Peek Learning, Socrates’ Way

A House or a Home with a Soul?

daughter, beth
Beth with son Jake and husband John
Marian
Marian

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Beth and Marian,

I have always felt that the place that you live in is more than an apartment or house.

Every place that I have lived in is an important memory for me.  A real house nurtures the soul.  It is a home.  What makes a house a home?  What makes a place a home that nurtures the soul?  Is it the physical space?  Is it the surrounding area—the nature, woods, or water views?  Is the people who come and visit, the people you know, the relationships you developed while there.

For me it was the people who lived in that home and the relationships which evolved over years?  The activities that took place, your birthday parties, the holiday dinners—Thanksgiving, the Passover Seders, eating ice-cream around the dining room table when everyone should be in bed all added up to family history?  You and your brother helped make the house a home.  I loved when we had guests and what the foods we ate together.  Remember those everything bagels, the pretzels, the black and white cookies?

What also makes a house a home are the things in it because they are often memories.  For me it was my mother’s dining room table, my grandmother’s candlesticks, the second-hand bureau, and the new lamp that I loved.  All these “things” added to the soul of house and enriched our lives.  And all the events that took place, you growing up, me growing up, all of us young, but learning about love and connectedness.

What does your home bring you?  What do you want to happen there?  What can you bring to your home that will nurture your soul?

Love and kisses.

Your mom, August 2014.

 

A Nightmare Can be a Beginning

Dear Marian and Beth,

Life has its ups and downs.  We all go through periods of joy and satisfaction and then there are the downs, low points, sometimes even a crisis. That is what happened to me when I was thirty-seven.  It was the third night I was alone after the divorce.  Marian, you were nine and Beth, you were three.  Stephen was  eight.  Beth, you got really sick, 104 fever and at two o’clock in the morning full of worry I called the doctor. He said put you in a warm tub until your temperature goes down.  I did and your temperature did go down, but the worry didn’t leave right away.  Finally, when you were sleeping, I lay in bed and went over and over what was going on in my life.

That night alone with the three of you, I realized a phase of my life was over.  I had to take responsibility.  I had to take care of the divorce, protect myself and you, pay the bills, fix what was wrong in our dilapidated but wonderful l920’s house, make decisions, run a household, be two parents.  There was no one to help.  I had to earn a living, raise three children, take care of the squirrels in the roof, maintain the lawn, and call the plumber.  I started to accept it all and determined that what I didn’t know, I would learn.  And that way, the  nightmare turned into a force that helped me grow, change, and find adventure in life.

It is always good to remember that nightmares can become a rebirth.

Love,

Mom

 

Letters to My Family