SPOTLIGHT: DEATH GRIEF BEREAVEMENT

Death, Grief, Bereavement
Date Published: 1-6-2017
Publisher: Cygnet Publications, Cygnet Media Group Inc.

When her beloved soul friend husband, Gerald, passed away a few years ago, and her friends and sons moved to distant cities, she found herself alone for the first time in her life.

Gerald, a professional artist, had his studio in their home. Their home was always filled with family life, art, music, joy and playfulness in the garden.
After his passing, the silence was loud. The joy was gone — her paradise — a lost paradise.

She had two choices, either to fall apart or to get on with life. She chose the latter and traveled to find a home, a community — however – nowhere was home – since he left.
In writing Nowhere Is Home … Since You Left, Madeleine Zeldin shares her insights, emotions, and true life experiences as she journeys solo throughout the years following the sorrowful death of her soul mate, internationally renowned artist, Gerald Zeldin. She presents years of storytelling based on travel journals she wrote while traveling to countries such as Mexico, Philippines, Ecuador, France, Spain, and California, U.S.A. Zeldin also reveals the intensity of the pain and sorrow experienced in her grief, along with the fulfillment, satisfaction and logistics of international travel. In her travels she volunteered in the medical field and gave help where help was needed. She brings inspiration to those of her generation, the 60’s, who find themselves alone.

Through her evocative tales of adventure, Zeldin reveals this life-changing knowledge to the world!

But ultimately where is Home?

Author Bio
Professionally, Ms. Zeldin has been engaged in nursing and teaching. She has successfully advocated for changes in the medical field, along with homebirth and Midwifery. In her travels to out of the way places, she has been a keen observer of people and distant cultures, often writing a ‘sketch’ of her experience.
Madeleine is an advocate of advocacy.
Madeleine believes we can all make a difference.
Throughout her adult life she has successfully advocated for change. When she felt change was needed, she rallied. She lobbied. She started a group or joined a group.
In the late ’70’s, when her town council was considering tearing down old heritage properties in the name of ‘Progress’, she helped start a group of interested citizens in order to save these heritage properties. ‘Progress’ was stopped and many heritage buildings were saved due to the group’s diligence.
Again in the early ’80’s, Madeleine herself changed local hospital policy to allow midwives to accompany couples in the birthing room, after the hospital refused to allow her midwife to enter.
She belonged to a group of informed parents who advocated for changes in the policies for vaccinations.
Madeleine volunteered at the local Health Center and advocated for improved health care for refugees. Improvements were made.
She successfully advocated for her soul-friend, late husband Gerald’s medical care throughout their six year battle with cancer. Many important changes were implemented in our medical system due to her persistence.
Madeleine has been ahead of her time in her generation. She had many professions throughout her life including social worker, teacher, registered nurse. She also joined a group of midwives and again successfully advocated for choices in childbirth.
However, she considers her most important achievement as being a mother and grandmother. She has instilled in her family a sense of love and empathy and has taught them to love the earth and its people.

Contact Information
Website: http://www.madeleinezeldin.com/

Purchase Links
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Nowhere-Home-Since-You-Left/dp/1630200158/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1489599703&sr=8-1&keywords=nowhere+is+home+…+since+you+left+zeldin
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/nowhere-is-home-since-you-left-madeleine-zeldin/1125379090?ean=9781630200152

SHORT EXCERPT

FINDING YOUR PATH
“Do not go where the path may lead.
Go instead where there is no path
And leave a trail.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson
When i travel to faraway places, i like to experience the local flavour … and often write a ‘sketch’ of my experiences …
My purpose in writing these travel journals … these ‘sketches’ …
is to share with you my adventures and cultural experiences of these places … the road less travelled …

saw two lovers on the beach this evening …
they were gentle and sweet …
one walked up to a bag of garbage that someone thoughtlessly left on the beach …
he tore the bag apart and started licking some juice
from the juice box …
the female slowly walked over to her friend … and coyly looked at him … as if to say …
may i share … they both started licking, then stopped …
they looked at each other and rubbed noses …
as their lips gently touched …
their slender grey proud bodies strolled away graciously
when the dogs came to chase
these donkeys away …

as we were looking down at the clear ocean from the high cliffs …
we saw the outline of a shark …
swimming around the shoreline far below … just where we were going to go snorkelling …
so the tour guides … all young ecuadorians with a sense of humor…
said they would keep us safe and took us to another spot …
but not far off …
around the other side of this small island …
not sure whether to quite trust these young men …
as we were swimming in the deep waters way out in the pacific …
i asked one to watch out for sharks …
he said not to worry …
the only shark i would have to watch out for… was him …

last night i tripped and broke my toenail
and did not want to cut it off …
so bought some crazy glue … for fifty cents …
and glued my nail together …
the only problem … i glued the tip of my finger to my toenail …
was almost impossible to pull it away …
so now my finger tip is part of my toenail …

LONG EXCERPT

lying in the hamaca one morning, meditating in another sort of way … am contemplating my future travels …
to the big cities in the mountains … alone, because nadine has changed her mind about travel,
so i will be leaving this paradise of a pueblo for just awhile …
my spell is broken as i watch the young, not quite 3 yr old, son of the houseboy, playing in the garden …
as he is running around the tiled walkway, he suddenly trips over his oversized crocs and falls,
scraping his knees …
his young parents, chuckle and look away …
as he looks for compassion, but gets none … he monitors himself, then gets up and starts running again …
with a little limp this time …
i can just picture all of us moms and grandmoms in North America, running over to the child …
but here you are left on your own to grow up
with the bumps and the grinds …
and just as i open my book … Our Last Dance … to begin preparing for my readings in San Francisco and Los Angeles …
coming up in early april …
procrastinating as i have been doing for the past few weeks …
i see the young son, mi hijo, as his parents call him … my son … playing with a couple of sticks, in the garden,
rubbing them together as he has often seen his papa do …
to start a fire …
but since he is unable to do so … he breaks the stick into six smaller ones and starts to play with them …
until he notices me …
no hundreds of dollars of plastic toys here …
he runs over, careful of his crocs this time … with the look in his big brown eyes … giggling …
and i can see the bubble coming from his brain …
saying … play with me …
so i decide to take time off work, procrastinating again …
to teach him how to count … en español and in english …
with the sticks …
stick after stick, he hands me and repeats in español …
uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, seis … in his babytalk spanish …
then claps and claps for himself … so proud that he did it …
but when i repeat the game in english … he halts …
doesn’t understand what i am doing …
so i think …
and decide to draw a little face on my middle finger …
then this little person … the face … becomes his new friend …
and says all the numbers in english … one by one … with the six sticks …
mi hijo responds to this with great giggles …
responds to this little friend … says his numbers in english … well maybe spenglish … …
and again claps for himself …
but he wants more … but i have to get back to work …
… ‘más tarde’ … i say … later …
so he runs off … but one minute later, he returns …
‘no, más tarde’ … i say …
but he thinks one minute is … más tarde …
i take him back to his mama and papa …
… ‘necesita trabajar’ … i say … i need to work …
so they take him away … and he whimpers …
yearning to learn more …
so i ask the parents if he knows his numbers …
‘oh no, mas pequeño’ … too young … they say …
so we play the game with the sticks …
they hear their young son say his numbers …
their eyes light up with pride … mi hijo is saying his numbers …

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