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.

the dentist office

She walked in to the room with an air of confidence. She too appeared to be in her mid twenties but seemed to be everything I felt I was not. She was carrying a handbag indicative of a professional. Her outfit was modest yet showed an artistic inner being. Her hair was perfectly blown, side bangs feathered back to perfection. She annoyed me to the core. Here I was in agony and she had the audacity to have it altogether! In contrast, I had just thrown on a long skirt with a sweatshirt, slipped my hair in a pony tail and prayed not to meet anyone I knew. And if I did, too bad. I had a toothache. She approached the busy receptionist and signed her name on the clipboard. I prayed she’d sit on the other side of the room but no, of course not. On a day like this, when everything already seemed to be going wrong, little miss perfect had to sit down right next to me. I knew her type well. Choir head in high school, top seminary graduate and after the quick route through college landed the perfect job. And of course had her pick of perfect boys to go out with. And then to make matters worse, she had to smile at me. She couldn’t just be pretty, she had to be friendly too??? Smile back I ordered myself. And before I could help it I found myself turning and introducing myself, and then asking her her name. I expected a quick easy response but to my horror I watched as she struggled to get the words out. A stutterer. Who would have guessed. Something inside me softened. Perhaps it didn’t all come to her so easily either.

tzedaka

A friend and I occasionally meet for lunch. As in all kosher restaruants it is inevitable that someone will come over to collect money. I have made it my policy to always give a dollar. I don’t really care whether they need it badly or not, that dollar will make no difference in my lifestyle and if they are asking its worth it to give. I also believe that by virtue of giving regularly it makes you a giving person and aware of others suffering. Early on in my outings with this friend she told me that as a rule she does not give. While I disagree with her stance I do not argue as she is allowed her opinion as I have mine. But last week we went for pizza and sure enough an elderly woman came over asking for money. My friend reached into her pocket and gave a quarter and I gave my customary dollar. After showering us with brachos worth much more than the money given, my friend commented that she is not sure why she chose to give this time when she normally does not. And the question that remains in my mind is how do you consider a quarter giving enough to make you question your motives? I am not saying that its not worthwhile to give a quarter, every bit helps. But don’t make a big deal out of 25 cents while eating your $10 salad.

chanuka musings

Chanuka is almost over and still I am reflecting on the story. The Greeks were known to celebrate the body. Beauty and strength were considered the most admirable traits. Gymnasiums were the creation and pride of the Greeks. As a child learning this in school it was laughable. Why would someone care so much about these attributes. Yet as an adult I see our own culture mimicking that of the Greeks. Women are chosen for their beauty and shape. It is considered an ultimate accomplishment to spend hours at the gym. New jewish running networks are cropping up and organizations are using marathons and cycling events as fundraisers. i have a hard time making peace with what appears to me to be such diverse tendencies. To live a torah life may mean to take care of the body and appear to others as a regal image of God but it does not mean making a life of physicality. When look become the ultimate goal, they get in the way of being oved Hashem properly. The skirts get shorter and tighter, other things fall to the wayside. And sooner or later we are living like the Greeks. Ki archa lanu hayeshua- we are waiting so damn long. Let’s not get further entrenched in the galus. Let’s make our creator proud so he can finally put an end to all our suffering.

chanukah

While out to lunch with a friend last week she mentioned that a certain single guy told her that Chanukah is a depressing yomtov for singles. I laughed it off. Simchas torah, I can hear- all your friends dancing with their kids while you look on. Pesach, its hard to believe you are spending another pesach seder at the parents still single. Rosh Hashana means another year has gone by without the hoped for changes. But Chanukah? I didn’t buy it. Its not a very intrusive holiday. You go to work as usual and when you get home you light some candles. Not much room for depression I said.
And then the first night of Chanukah came. I pulled up to my house just as all the neighbors were gathering around their windows, lighting menorahs with their small children. I sat in the car watching, envious of them all And then I went inside to light my candles alone.