Regal Witches and Peasants

10 Mar 2025 2 Comments

by Being Jewish in Hawaii in Mothers and Daughters, Uncategorized Tags: , , ,

My daughter and I were sitting in the hot tub in our backyard and she pointed out the  monarch butterfly that was hovering nearby. She shared with me that she likes to think of Grandma Gershun when one of these royal visitors flits around us or perches on a leaf nearby. I was touched deeply by this image. 

It made sense to me on many levels, one being our local mythology about the presence of a Black Witch moth. In Hawaii, it is common to believe that the Black Witch Moth is the spirit of a family member who has passed away and has come to visit. It is not like a haunting and does not feel scary. On the contrary, we welcome the visits and the feelings of connection.

We often see a Black Witch Moth visiting our house in West O’ahu. When these visitors come, they will perch high up on the wall above the window and hang out there for the day. According to the Bug Lady , who posted information on the University of Wisconsin at Milwaukee Bug of the Week page a few years ago, this moth is a giant among moths and has many stories in the places where it is found. I can see how somebody might mistake it for a bat. While they are not beautiful, there is something peaceful about them. Sometimes they will stay for a few days. We don’t try to shoo them out the door, but go about our business, allowing our guests to rest and relax for however long suits them. 

I have my own (vicarious) spiritual experience with a witch moth visit. Soon after my friend Paula lost her mother, she had several poignant encounters with these visitors and I was present with her for one of them. I don’t remember the exact details, but I’m not making up the story. We were at Poka’i Bay, relaxing in the soothing ocean water and talking story when we noticed a moth resting on top of the water nearby. This is highly unusual and we considered that it might be a figment of our imagination. We were not convinced that it was an extra large moth. But, on closer examination, it was. It appeared to us that it was stranded and would not make it back to shore on its own. 

We took a moment to acknowledge the deeply personal connection to this visitor who we perceived to be Paula’s mom and then we knew we had to do something to rescue her. Paula sprang into action. She rushed out of the water onto the sand, grabbed a twig and brought it out to help our special companion. Paula nudged the moth onto the twig, held it carefully above the water  and gently carried it to the shore. She found a quiet place in the shade for the moth to rest and gingerly placed the twig in the shade under a tree. It was hard to leave, but we did. We said aloha and carried away this deeply moving experience to tuck inside of us to warm our hearts and remember her mom.

So, when my daughter mentioned her theory about the monarch butterfly, I was quick to embrace the idea. It warmed my heart and totally fit, beyond the connection to our local affinity for the Black Witch Moth. 

First of all, the monarch butterfly is orange with black veins. Orange was one of my mother’s signature colors. Then there is the whole monarch thing. I often describe my mother as a regal woman. She commanded a presence and, when we were young, commanded our attention. I would describe her manner as benevolent and never mean. She had great posture, held her head high, and regularly flashed a generous and bright smile. 

Gloria was a leader by nature. She chaired the PTA when we were in grade school. She was president of the sisterhood at our synagogue. After she retired, she created the local Jewish Book Fair and ran that event for many years. In her warm and gracious way, Gloria held court wherever she was; at her kitchen table, at the Oneg Shabbat after Friday night services, or when she went out to lunch with her girlfriends. 

There is one great irony to her majestic presence. She was generally in good health and was rarely ill. If she felt under the weather or happened to catch a cold, she would remark that she did not get sick very easily or very often due to our “Good peasant stock.” I assume she was referring to our Eastern European roots and our ancestors who came to the United States to escape persecution and pogroms and make a good life for themselves, their offspring and future generations of Polskys and Friedmans and Gershuns and Wolfsons. Her regal proclamation and assessment of our background never quite resonated with me nor fit anywhere in her demeanor, her experience, or her closet. Whether pauper or Queen, she was strong. 

It pleases me to no end that my daughter felt my mother’s presence when the monarch butterfly came to visit us in the hot tub. Like I said, it makes perfect sense, at least to us. Lately I have noticed a single monarch butterfly on the periphery when I am taking a dip in the spa, walking around the neighborhood, or watering the plants in our garden. I know that they have been there all these years, but now I have more than an appreciation for them, I feel a connection, both to my daughter and her grandmother. I take a minute to think about her and think to myself, “Hi Mom,” and go about my day. 

Do I need therapy for my therapy?

05 Nov 2011 10 Comments

by Being Jewish in Hawaii in Family, Mothers and Daughters Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I would not describe myself as a shopaholic. I am not that extreme. But I could definitely be considered a shopper. It’s in my jeans.

My mother was totally a shopper. You could probably refer to her as the Queen Bee of shoppers. She gleefully put together a fall, winter and spring wardrobe every season. I think she chose her last residence for its proximity to Chicos, Talbots and Coldwater Creek that were just down the block. The Jewish Community Center was nearby as well.

My sisters and I have definitely inherited her propensity for supporting the economy (not to mention a definite resemblance in the good looks and charm department as well). We got a lot of practice growing up.

I can remember many a childhood evening spent with my mother and sisters at Southern California’s Buena Park Mall. We tried on clothes at the local Sears, J. J. Newberries and smaller clothing shops. We’d always stop half way through our excursion and call my father from the pay phone in the middle of the mall to let him know we were going to be a few more hours.

I think he was happy for the time to himself and the quiet calm in our home on these evenings. Three Gershun girls can make a lot of noise.

These days my oldest sister does most of her buying online. The younger one is more like our mother and a regular at Kohl’s and T.J. Maxx and always happy to take us there when we visit since we do not have those gold mines in the shopping arena in Hawaii.

I fall somewhere in between.

A few years ago I began to refer to it as retail therapy, noticing the  positive emotional payoff after a satisfactory excursion to Pearlridge Mall or Ala Moana Center.

I definitely took that form of therapy to an extreme after a few major life changing incidents like divorcing my first husband or several years later breaking up with my new boyfriend when we were dating before we made up and he became my second husband.

My overwhelming feelings during those difficult times were not assuaged by the purchase of a new pair of shoes or a cute jacket. They required much grander gestures: redecorating or buying moderately expensive jewelry.

Over the past few years I have tempered my shopping habits. The combination of only needing a wardrobe for one season in Hawaii, trying to stick to a budget along with a concerted effort at trying to be satisfied with what I have usually work to keep me from visiting the local stores and malls a bit more than I used to.

However, recently I have been shopping up a storm.

When I told my friend Linda about this and that I had several things to return at Macy’s, she said that she does that a lot too. She referred to it as “Bulimic Shopping.” It totally made sense.

I also got this from my mother and I know that my younger sister does it a lot too. I purchase way more clothes than I need or convince myself that it looks good on me in the fitting room. When I get home, I realize that I was fooling myself and wonder, “What was I thinking?” So I take it back.

Some times I simply find something that I like better and buy it knowing that I can return the other stuff later.

I started to look at my recent shopping patterns and have clearly identified myself as a bulimic shopper.

Binge and purge.

If you saw all of the receipts stuffed in my wallet you might be inclined to think that I am a hoarder!

In my defense I will mention that I recently lost a bunch of weight (25 pounds, thank you very much) and am in need of new clothes. The old ones are two sizes too big. So I deserve a bit of shopping for a stylish wardrobe to hang in my closet and from my now visible hip bones. It’s a reasonable reward.

But I’ve been doing that buy and return thing A LOT!

Perhaps the shopping is also replacing the eating? It certainly takes my mind off of the food. Some times I go so far as to consider it exercise too. If I shop for an hour is it an hour of walking? Do you think I should seek professional help?

However you look at it: genetic propensity, retail therapy, bingeing and purging,  if not taken to the extreme, shopping  can both fill the basic need to be clothed (in a moderately fashionable) way) and be a reasonable form of recreation.

So, thank you mom and sisters and Linda for sharing this habit and its many symptoms. I do believe I will drop the kids off tomorrow at Religious school and hit the mall….just for an hour or so.