I entered the year 5784 in a very bad place. My sweet, studious son, Moishy’s six-week engagement was broken and so was my son’s heart. And mine too for that matter. The young lady realized in advance, that although she wanted a husband who was dedicated to learning Torah, his dedication was too extreme for her tastes. Better now than too late, goes the adage.
After the summer break and his break-up, Moishy went back to yeshiva to regain his composure and delved into his beloved tomes once again. I thrashed at life. Although Elul is usually my favorite month; a time to spiritually recharge and connect to Hashem who is supposed to be nearby, I felt very adrift and disconnected. And angry. Why did my son have to go through this? Why did I?
I moped throughout most of the holiday season. I stopped moping when the war broke out on October 7. People were going through far worse problems. My days were filled with copious Tehillim that first month post war. Praying for the hostages, praying for the soldiers and praying for all of Klal Yisrael.
In the meantime, Moishy bravely started to date once again, but nothing seemed to be right. Now, my daughter, Sari, the next in line was making noises that she wanted to start dating as well. We had agreed that after the holidays were over, I would start looking into things for her. I did contact one shadchan on behalf of both my son and daughter, but truthfully my heart just wasn’t in it. There was so much uncertainty going on with the war.
I was also distracted with my youngest son’s upcoming bar mitzvah on Rosh Chodesh Kislev. Preparing for it just after the outbreak of war was daunting. There were still scattered sirens going off in Jerusalem and I preferred staying close to home. I found nearby stores to purchases the bar mitzvah boy’s apparel and felt safer doing so. I was too distracted to deal with Sari’s shidduchim and she claimed to understand that we would push things off once again until after the bar mitzvah was over.
The bar mitzvah was a lovely event, a memory to be cherished. Before I turned my head, ten days after the bar mitzvah, my daughter, Chevi gave birth to a little girl a month early. Once again all thoughts of shidduchim were put aside.
At this point, Sari lost patience. She decided to take things into her own hands. She turned to her brother and asked him if he thought his friend and roommate, Josh, who had come to our house a couple of times would make a good match. Her studious brother thought about it, but wasn’t sure. Moishy started asking Josh some snoopy questions to get a better feel as to what his ambitions were in life. When the answers sounded like this match could have potential, my son asked Josh outright if he would be interested in meeting his sister. Josh was actually in the middle of meeting someone and so he was not available.
When the shidduch Josh was in the middle of didn’t work out, he turned back to Moishy to hear about his sister. Eventually the couple met and realized that yes, it really was a match. When Josh and Sari got engaged, Moishy was the happiest of all.
One good deed leads to others. Sari kept telling anyone who would listen that her elementary school friend, Miri was the perfect girl for Moishy. She told me. She told Moishy. And finally she told Miri herself. No one knew what to say. Moishy did just go through a broken engagement and our families were so very different. What we didn’t know is that on the night we drank a l’chaim for Josh and Sari, Miri’s father went to speak to Moishy’s rosh yeshiva to hear about Moishy. Two days later Moishy and Miri met and once again within a short time, we drank another l’chaim.
And that is how I came to make two weddings twelve days apart in the month of Adar.
Mazel tov! Mazel tov!!
