My Heroes

I have been the recipient of huge favors this week.  I had been feeling so sorry for myself, and so guilty about being such a sponge, that I hadn't been able to accomplish almost any moving or holiday preparations.  Two amazing women stepped up to the plate and basically took charge.  One woman called around and found apartments and came to check them out with me, and told me I was going to stay with her family until I found new digs.  The other woman pulled me out brooding yesterday, took me around to talk to more people about apartments, and packed up most of my possessions today.  Both of them made a LARGE amount of phone calls to tell friends, "S.P. is back in town, and she needs your help and support NOW.  Go and at least call her NOW. "  I couldn't do that, I am so shy.  They are amazing, calling all those people, many of whom they barely knew.

One of these women told me, "On my tombstone, I want it to read 'She was useful'."   I think this was after I told her I have been ruminating on whether the balance of my place in this community is as a spring or a sponge, and I would now say over to the sponge side.  She said not to worry, and told me about a household she knew, who were invaded by a family-of-horrors that stayed for months without trying to find other accommodations.  She assured me that sleeping in a friends basement for a week, while actively trying to move to another apartment is not being a sponge.  Okay, as always, I know there are people worse than I am, but still, it's uncomfortable on so many levels.

Anyway, what I really want to write about is another woman, from my past, who performed the most courageous act I ever witnessed.  She stood up (literally), said to authority, "No, you may not,"  and was above fear of what anyone would think of her.

We were both at the wedding of  a mutual friend.  The wedding was in the hometown of the groom, and so most of the guests and almost all of the rabbeim at the event were friends of the groom.  The bride's father was to fly into town that morning straight from a business lecture he was giving in another city, but his flight was canceled, then delayed, etc, so that as the kabalot panim (reception of the guest before the ceremony) started, he was still in the air.  Long-story-short: the big-wigs of the community were insisting on getting the ceremony started, the groom agreed, the bride was sobbing as she tried to receive guests, and we, her friends, were trying to figure out what to do as the men keep gathering up at the chason's tish (men's reception area) to move to the bedekin (last check of bride by groom before the ceremony).  The bride's brother had been going in to explain that they could not start, but there was some community banquet later in the evening (like more than 2 hours later), and the powers that be were insisting they could not wait any longer, and still the groom put up no resistance. 

"What should we do?" the brother asks.
"Someone should just stand in the doorway, and keep them from coming out," I say.
We all look around.  "I'll do it," says G, and she does.  She stands in front of the door, as the men start to sing, stretches out her arms, and blocks the passage.
"Move out of the way," says man, whose identity I hope never to learn.
"No. You will have to wait.  The mitzvah (commandment) is to bring joy tho the bride and groom, and right now the bride is in tears because her father will miss her wedding."
"You can't do this...I'll go back and talk to them, but you cannot intimidate us."
1 minute later: "Alright, we will wait a little longer, but it is not because of your little stunt!"
What ridiculous bluster!!! As if she even cared WHY the ceremony was stalled, even if it wasn't obvious for all the world that SHE WAS THE CAUSED.
Beautiful.  End of story - the father made it to the ceremony.  Well, almost end of story, but the rest is not mine to tell.

I never told the women how much I admire her.  So here it is: G. you are phenomenal, truly my hero.  Not that you should be thinking about headstones, but you can certainly ask to have this put on yours if you wish. I also don't know if the bride knew this story, but I imagine she has.  If not H., there you go, give G. your love.  I wish we had all done more...

Just news...

...not much observation.  The house sold, I was given 9 days to move out; with Rosh Hashannah in there, it's really only 5-6 days.  I was beyond pissed and beyond depressed.  It's the beginning of September, so there are barely any apartment immediately available.  This was awful.  I was already feeling so sorry for myself that no one welcomed me into the neighborhood, and now I had to deal with trying to find a solution, on my own, with no resources.  I spent the last day and a half stumbling around, thinking horrible, depression-induced thoughts.

Well, I found several viable options.  I didn't have to do it totally alone, I even had a friend who looked at some of the apartments with me, is helping me find major appliances, etc.  In fact, I'm feeling now like I have too many option, too hard to choose - whatever I choose I will feel that I missed the right opportunity.  But I am functioning MUCH better.  Actually did a lot of stuff at work today, even though I am now taking this break to blog. 

Remember what I said before about previously, desperately wanting to partner with someone, and recently feeling like that need is subsiding?  Forget it.  I am terrified of having to make these kind of decisions alone, and be strong on my own.  Yuck.  Don't like it, can't take enough pride in it to make it a good thing, I just hate it.

I can't become complacent yet - I need to really muster all the forces I can to MOVE MY STUFF in just a few days, and then move it again in a couple weeks.  Plus I need to beg all shabbos and yomtov meals until, well, probably the whole yomtov season.  I was so looking forward to hosting meals again...  Maybe I didn't move on that fast enough. 

So what I'm telling everyone is...

..."I'm not unpacking any boxes, except the kitchen - I'm gonna take full advantage of that kitchen."  It's kinda true too, I think at least half my stuff is still in boxes somewhere around the city.  I don't know where a whole bunch of stuff is. If I have to do this too many more times, I'm gonna have to give up on ever really getting all the old stuff back in order.  I can't find my SD card reader, or I'd show you some of the nice new beadwork I have done this week.

So I'm trying to tell MYSELF that I am staying in a resort (albeit a resort where I have to clean the tub and cook the meals), living out of suitcases, for the next little while.  It really is quite a nice space which I could enjoy, if I could just stop feeling anxious in general, angry at the community and sad about my family situation.  As it is, I wake every morning feeling depressed, not wanting to start the day.  But my sleep cycle has somehow flipped back about 3-4 hours so that I am sleepy / waking at normal times.


Here's another new way in which my life resembles a "Cathy" cartoon.  I'm still making some heated attempts to  get help in dealing with my "angry son".  All the advice I get is, "Don't push too hard, give it time."  It's like the strip (sorry, as I said before, it's impossible to find the originals on line for free):

And you didn't think the artwork for Cathy could be any worse...

Stronger Herecy

I pulled out my last angry post.  But I'm now beyond angry, too numb and depressed.  Angry, bitter, and really questioning what is the whole point.  I don't have many good feelings left.  I feel that the Jewish community, as a whole, has let me down too many times to continue. A "new / old" neighbor saw me on the street this morning, as I was trying to run up a couple blocks to where I left the moving van over-night.  "Hey, it's S.P, welcome to the block."  "Yeah, whatever," and I took off.  I hate it here already, this was a big mistake, I didn't even have one day to enjoy it - plus I heard again, as I'm unloading all this crap collected over the last year, that there is a new potential buyer very interested in the house, again heard it from a third-party.

What I have yearned for since I was a pre-teen was a family to love and a "normal life".  Forget it, never gonna happen.  Although I HATE the idea of "expecting the worst so that you are never disappointed," hated it since I was a little girl, I am falling deep deep into that philosophy.  Don't get excited at all about the wonderful house, it may be taken away tomorrow.  Don't expect to ever have a home, ever feel that you are part of a community.  Don't expect that any of your children will associate with you when they are adult; in fact don't expect anything from your children.  Don't expect that you will ever be in love.Don't expect that you can ever enjoy this life.  Just be thankful for what ever crumb you can, that is what was meant to be.

I've been thinking about the Y.L. Peretz story "Bontsha the Silent".  That's me, the good-girl sucker.  When I first heard the story, as a little girl, I thought it was supposed to be funny - look at this simpleton, who doesn't even know there is a greater world around him.  It wasn't until college that I heard the original rendition, ending with the angels all downcast, while the Prosecutor laughs.  Rav Kook says that this is NOT what God wants from us, to just take all the punishment life gives us, and meekly accept it.

So why is that ALL I hear right and left.  When will someone show me how to fight for what is right, for the tzedek??  I really have to believe, more than ever, that if this is all the advice I can get, then this system is messed up.

In response to yesterday's playdate

I can’t write pretty, I’m really in a rush, and the lab is full of people, but I had to get this down.  I had a dream last night of the wasband, just a plain vanilla dream of  us as a family, him as a good Dad.  This is the first dream I can remember of him that wasn’t clearly driven by anger or love-starvation,  since…I don’t know, possible ever.  Really, I can’t think of any.  At some point in the dream, I knew it was just a dream, that the wasband and I were not together anymore – and it was not good or bad or scary or exciting, it just was.  

I was talking to a friend yesterday about the house I am moving into.  So many people ask “Why don’t YOU buy the house?”  Because I HAVE NO MONEY, DUFUS.  (that was NOT meant toward the friend from yesterday, she is close enough to not ask such a question, really, that was not aimed toward you!!!)  But a thought that popped in my head yesterday was, “What if I want to remarry?  A house to sell would be a pain.”  But then I thought, “I don’t know that I want to get remarried any time soon.”  Can this be ME, even thinking this somewhat honestly?  Even as I said it aloud yesterday, I wasn’t sure if I was being honest with myself.  I have felt so scared and lost this past year, I thought I was desperate to attach myself to someone.  I’ve always felt desperate to attach myself to someone, for as long as I can remember!

 I might be reading too much into this dream.  But it was just so peaceful, normal, even happy. 

Please, let me advance toward this happy place*.

 * These seemingly random pictures are representative of my happy place in a manner clear to only two of us, but not in the religious aspect associated with the bottom one. that bottom one is great, isn't it.  I also apologize for using these images without permission.

Anxiety returning

because my stomach can't take anymore Kefir, and I have to get my financial records together for the lawyer, and so I'm in thinking-about-divorce mode again, and I am crazy busy at work, and busy packing up to move, and not sure if I'm happy about the move, and nervous what if the house sells tomorrow, and really fed up with the old place, and had a crazy stressful "vacation" the beginning of this week, and I don't know what I will do in 2 weeks when wasband is back at work, but kids don't have camp or school, and something else I can't remember...
did I say before I don't like lists?  I guess I meant that I don't like making them for myself.

I have been meaning to get a hair cut for several months, but never found a chance, since I can't just go down the street to the "Hair Cuttery".  My hair was so long and thick, it was becoming cumbersome, snarly and hot in my terribly humid apartment.  When we came home from the beach this week,  I had this mass of stringy, hot hair that wouldn't let me sleep.  So I pulled out the shears and, hack hack, took off 6-8 inches.  It's still long, just past my shoulders, but the reduction is such a relief.  I wish there was something so easy, quick, cheap and side-effect-free that I could do to lighten my anxiety.

Non-sequitur: Here is an adorable picture...I want one:

The sweet little things

Last month when I was in the radiology waiting room, I saw an older couple on their way out.  As they went out the door, they clasped hands.  I have no idea what their story is, saw no particular expression on their face;  I just appreciated their connection.  I noticed a different older couple yesterday, coming up from the parking garage at my work (a different hospital), holding hands as they walked to the lobby.  So sweet.  I remember you, HR-S, holding hands with B, as you pushed the baby stroller into the subway.  So sweet.  I cannot reconcile the idea that frum marrieds need to avoid all public physical contact.  Maybe if there is enough verbal- or other nonphysical- support, maybe.

Last Wednesday, I was babysitting for friends, while the husband was at the Siyum Hashas.  I heard him leave a message on the machine, just "Hi H****, I wanted you to know I arrived safely.  I'll try to call you tonight.  Love you."  So sweet.

This is goodness.  If you have it, don't take it for granted.  If you are not doing it - wake up, and don't take it for granted.

This wasn't at all the Rockwell print I was trying to find, but it is good.  Another little thing I remember -when you, NLS, told J he need to dress more warmly, and fixed his collar and put a scarf (or hat or something) on him. Sweet.