gas wars

I DID IT AGAIN. I lost it with a stranger. And it was literally over a few measly cents. This happens every time I use full service gas stations. I look up at the amount when the tank is full and begin counting it out. Without fail the attendant then tops off the gas bringing the amount to the next dollar. This can be a loss of 8 cent or 98 depending on the original number. Without fail this gets me going. If I got $33.78 worth of gas then that is exactly what I want to pay, not $34. Especially when paying with credit cards and there is no change being counted out.
Were I to walk into the grocery store and my total was 78.52 would I pay that amount or 79? Why is gas the only purchase that thinks it’s entitled to my extra change. And if every other charge is being input as complete prices why do the attendants think it will be easier with a nice even fifty. The rest of the bill will still have to be reconciled with its nickels and dimes, I have tried and tried to talk “sense” into these gas attendants but to no avail. My words are useless to them ad my voice raises as I get more frustrated. Eventually I just throw the money at him but make sure he knows I am mad.
And as I drive away I wonder what bothers me more, that I pay a few cents more or that I lost control over a few cents?

the sound of silence

I have friend, id even say lots of friends. Friends I can call to chat, friends who can call for a favor. Friends to hang out with, friends to laugh with. But the friend I seem to be missing most is the one who calls to see how I am. Not just to shoot the breeze but to really see how im feeling. Sure, I can call any number of friends and say I need to talk, but sometimes that’s not what I need. What I need is for the call to be incoming, for the phone to ring, to break the silence and let me know someone cares.

playing the game

Its like participating in a kids ball game, players slowly being called to a team. Leaving the group in the field. One by one they walk away to begin a new life, to create a family. The ones in the field look on in a combination of fear and envy, waiting to be chosen, wondering when and if their turn will come. The time passes them by, at times crawling past at an incredible slow snails pace. Other times it flies right by, the years feel like minutes, accomplishing so much yet so much stays the same.

She has completed her education, excelled in her field of work. She’s traveled the world, has stories of adventure and excitement. Yet all she craves is the mundane life her friends lead. She dreams of the day she too will come home from work to a full load of work still waiting. Days when she will have to juggle dinner and bath time and PTA.

She goes to shiurim, is involved in chesed, babysits her nieces and nephews. Yet she struggles with the questions. What is her tafkid? How can this be all- wasn’t she training her whole life towards a life of raising jewish children? what happened to that dream? She is forced to relearn the dream. To reevaluate priorities, to make do with a new reality. Yet a small voice inside still hopes that one day the original plan can still be hers.

contrast

Arriving home after a long day at work, she rushes in to put up dinner before the kids get home.
Arriving home after a long day of work she is greeted by the silence of her apartment.
One by one they get off the bus, eager to tell her about their day, interrupting each other to fill her in on the schools excitement.
She puts down her bag, and grabs a snack, making a quick phone call to check in with her parents.
She tries to get them started on their homework, but all too soon is inundated with complaints of hunger. Dinner is a noisy event, leaving her head pounding and the sink filled with dishes.
She reads a couple of chapters in her book, unwinding from the stresses of her workday.
She eventually gets up and rummages through the fridge, finding some form of protein and some vegetables. Close enough to resemble a well balanced meal. She absentmindedly skims the newspaper while swallowing the food.
Bathtime is finally over and then its time to start the bedtime routine. She starts with the
younger ones then makes her way up to the older ones. Tantrums and cries of thirst are all part of the program.
She’s checked her mail, her email and spoken to a few friends. She checks her clock. 8pm. Still too early for bed.
Finally the house is silent. The peacefulness teases her, begs her to relax. But the dishes must be done and lunches made.
She wastes some time online, but when she next checks its still only 9.
A few more household chores, a call from a teacher and rearranging carpool for next week. Before she knows it its 11pm, and she falls into bed, unable to move a limb. Her last thought before falling asleep is “I wish I had more time”
Her last thought before falling asleep is “I wish I had more to do with my time”.

orphaned

Although it’s always sad when a parent passes away, leaving children behind, I always felt a special sadness when I heard of an older single losing a parent. If the parent left behind children that were under 18 for example, it’s understandable that the parent would not be present in so many future events. But when a 26 or 34 year old loses a parent its painful that they miss out on what should have taken place years before. And unfortunately the cases of this happening kept increasing. stories I heard or singles I knew. Until it was me. And here I am trying to make sense of it all. All those years of being told “don’t worry you will get married” and now knowing that if I do it will be without my mother at my side. And that is just a senseless tragedy in my mind.

train ride

Mrs schwartz sits and reads her book, enjoying the quiet of her four small children. She cant remember the last time they got along so well. As the train twists and turns they each stare out the window watching the scenery fly by. From time to time there is a bump and they shift in their seats. Its mostly quiet as each one takes in the excitement of the locomotion. It moves so fast they feel like they are flying. From time to time one child softly taps another to point out something interesting seen out the window. And like dominos the action is passed on, each child nudging the next to show them in turn. As new passengers get on the children take them in, noticing the small details of their clothing and their mannerisms. It is their first time on a train, their first trip away from home and everything seems new and exciting. Suddenly the train makes a quick sharp turn and one by one the children all fall to the left, each falling on top of the other. “get off me” yells the one on the bottom. “I cant, shes on me” yells the next. “he’s hurting me” “he kicked me”… And suddenly the quiet is gone. And in its place are 4 bickering children. No longer remembering what caused them to be pushed, no longer hushed by the newness of the event, they move on to other more familiar arguments. And with a sad smile mrs Schwartz slowly closes her book and is grateful for the few minutes of silence that she enjoyed.

his 2 wives

Leah tenderly picks tomatoes, trying to make herself care. After finally placing 5 in the bag she moves on to the cucumbers. Normally the vibrant colors of the vegetables are enough to make her feel healthy and joyous. But ever since his passing life just seems black and white. Even colorful objects have lost their luster. So she moves along numbly gathering the makings of a salad, so she can go home and make believe along with her children, that life still matters. She feels someone standing next to her and looks up to see Her. His first wife. In the past she always felt a smugness when she saw her. A little burst of pride, as if she won. But now she doesn’t know what to feel. None of it really matters anymore. Chava approaches the vegetable aisle pushing her heavy wagon, while her two small children pull on her dress. She doesn’t notice leah standing there until she is right next to her. So many emotions pass through her mind. But none of them seem to linger for long. Except for one. Sympathy. no matter what transpired in the past she cant help but feel bad for this woman who has lost her husband. And as leah looks up she offers her a smile. And leah smiles back. And each continue on with their day.