It Could Have Been Me

Friday night I drove into South Austin to visit friends for Shabbat. She married him and it was his parents who where in from out of state. With the lively conversation and the cooing over the baby, our evening stretched out and before it hit me, we were talking about love, Jewish love as observed in this home. My friend and her husband are luckier than most. They both embrace the same ancient structure. Torah life never looked so good as it does with these two. When he said it, "it is such a shame Saprkey, that you don't have your match(yet)." I figured that I was out of my league now. "You are so great Sparkey," he continues, "you are one of the greatest women I know, You are dynamic, you are intelligent,you are so yourself." I felt awash in a sea of appreciation and understanding, when his mom asked what happened, as if I had a terrible accident. I confessed to missing the mark, making enough and the right kind of mistakes to not see my way clear out of my oneness.

I felt like "Her," a woman from Israel who had a Blog that was called: The Unbroken Glass: The Worst Shidduch Disasters Ever. "Her,"(that was her screen name)openly discussed the odd and whacked dates that she went on, were set up with and where let down by. I felt that she was all of the things that my friends were saying that I was and more. She was living in Israel! She had a strong sense of Jewish self. She was determined to live a Jewish life. Unlike me, she knew there was a Jewish guy out there for her, her Beshert, her soul mate was busy too, searching. He was looking for her. I always doubt myself and G-d that there is a Jewish man for me in the world.

I wished I had thought of the idea, "the worst shidduch disasters ever. I was so intrigued with all of her good fortune in summing up her loss and regret, that I wrote to her. I complimented her on her down turns, well written and with pause. She caused me to think, rethink and think some more. She inspired me to consider that the shidduch crisis in the world's Jewish community was not my problem alone. She eventually met her guy, married and stopped writing that Blog of old world tragic humor laced in our modern time.

I brought up the Russian. He was a man who came to our town for a job in a Kosher dining establishment. I heard from 3 other yids that there was a new bachelor in town and that I could be the one for him. It was thought that there were just 2 of us, women, in the community to appeal to a man's wish for a wife. He was looking, they assured me. I had to see this.

As we were retelling the story now, my friend's husband and I, we are laughing hysterically. If anyone could have imagined that it could be me, it was not one of us. Before he was engaged to marry my friend, he was "helping" out at the place to see that it thrived. He loved the food, eats only Glatt Kosher and was at the time single with plenty of time that was his own. He saw me come in that day when I went to check out the new guy.

Back in the living room, we are screaming now, over the laughter as I am telling my version and in between thoughts, breaking for air. I whispered the part that stirred me most and in so doing, was now compelled to say it again, they needed to know as I was blushing a gavalt.

What I got from my visit with the new guy: he was Russian from Russia by way of LA. He was here to help the community. He was religious as early as not so long ago, had a few grown sons, hated his ex wife and hold on to your mitzvahs, he was circumcised just five years prior to our meeting. That was the clincher.

I am not a religious role model of a modest woman, I am not a woman of valor as I am often encouraged to become. I stared straight ahead and then looked down, thank G-d the table he was sitting at was blocking my view. I wanted to see his crotch. I was beginning to imagine the ritual,as it is done with the new born, with the Rabbi, the whole migillah, even the kiddish, the nosh would be plentiful. Tevyeh the Dairy Man would be there from Shalom Alechiem's Anatefkah. The Fiddler on the Roof too, would be singing our songs-- mazel tov, mazel tov!

What my friend never knew was this part, I was abrupt in telling the new guy that I had to go and fast. I flew down town and met the Rabbi at his office. Rabbi I started, You've got a new guy up at the place telling people, like me, that he was just snipped five years ago. You've got do something! He is going to alienate people, women. Rabbi, people are going to freak out. I am freaking out Rabbi. People suggested he was looking for a match, "nu, he is..." I went to have a look and I get an entire vision of what, the snip, Rabbi, the snip. "You shouldn't have gone, nu?" Give me a break, I shouldn't have gone. I had a need to know. "What need was that, he told you what he wanted you should know." Alright already!

After the laughing dimmed down and we could catch each other's breathing as we settled down, my friend really got busy now. "Sparkey, it could have been you, He was flirting with you. That was his way of flirting with you. He liked that you came to meet him, he wanted to tell you a little bit about himself," I can't even comment on that last remark, it is too easy. I don't want to be or appear rude, after all, it is a mitzvah and at any age--mazel tov.

Right? I am thinking, I need better, different, right? Then, I was asking as if I needed friends to tell me it was ok to avoid Mishuga, crazy. Now I am asking as if I don't know. When my friend's husband chimed in he would use the accent, the Russian accent was the end of the line. "The snip, only five years ago. The snip, the snip, the snip...." It could have been me and I am glad it wasn't. I ran fast, cut it to the quick and for lack of a better picture, I nipped it in the bud.

Back in time, another Rabbi, the guy who in another story, taught me about inflexible ego, tried to show me how I did not owe anything to any man. A little fast kindness goes a long way. He would charge me with "being nice," when it was uncalled for and when in reality he said I was not nice. He wanted me to be myself. When I heard this not nice thing, I questioned him with a sharp tone. The Rabbi replied, "Sparkey, I don't think anyone would call you nice. They would say, your great but your not nice." Ok....NU, and hurry up, already, gavalt.

Here came the compliments again, "You have the most energy of anyone I know. You are up beat and funny, you are normal with no mask, no filter, no fear of humanity. If I have something I need or want help with, I would call you. You always offer what ever you can, to be helpful, but are you nice about it, not really. You are great, I can count on you." If I were to use the advice from this other Rabbi, I would have told the new single guy from Russia that it was nice to meet him, welcome to Texas and G-D Willing, you'll enjoy it here. And then, leave calmly. He would advice that I not discuss again the experience and if I did, it would not be from the point and perspective of the snip.

With my friends and their family, it was less honest than that. It went fast and furious, it was sharp and to the point. This, I told my friend's mother, is what happened to me and it seems to occur often, if it is not about the snip, then what, you tell me.