It was a low point in my life, several months after my husband had passed away. I had joined a few groups for frum Jewish widowed people. Most of the participants lived on the East Coast; I live in Dallas, Texas, 1,500 miles away. In almost two decades of living here, I’ve become accustomed to the pace, the climate, and the almost universally friendly community and way of life here. I live in my own home and have no desire to move away.
But at that low point, while I was in the midst of the endless task of clearing out my late husband’s things, a call came from a man. From this vantage point almost a year later, I cannot actually remember if the communication began with a call or with a message. In any case, a long-distance friendship began.
The man had been widowed several years before. He seemed very easy to talk to. We had a number of pleasant conversations; he checked off a lot of my boxes – assuming I had “boxes” because I really had not been looking to date – and it appeared that I checked off several of his, too.
He would call me every weekday, for several months, and I started looking forward to his calls. I’m no youngster – I’m in my 70s – but after that low point and reliving so many memories of my life with my late husband, I was starting to feel renewed, as though a new chapter might be opening for me.
Then he dropped off the radar. I figured, things happen, people have issues; and I looked at the experience from the perspective that Hashem had decided to send me a remedy and a distraction to lift me out of the low point where I had been. I thanked Hashem continually for that temporary cure.
Fast-forward several months. My healing process proceeded, slowly and with a lot of zigzags, but generally upward. Then, totally unexpectedly, I heard from this man again. He had had some health crises, and then he told me he was seeing a local lady. When he described her, I knew that this was the right woman for him. She checked off so many of his boxes – and vice versa – that it sounded like a match made in Heaven! I cheered him on and told him to go for it.
I’m a complex “puzzle piece”; who isn’t? If another piece almost fits but doesn’t quite match, then something is off, and the puzzle won’t get put together correctly. Maybe the manufacturer will put extra pieces in the box to make the puzzle more difficult – or maybe a piece will get lost.
There may not be another puzzle piece that meshes with mine, and if so, then that is what Hashem wants. Then again, there may be one that does. Who knows? Meanwhile I enjoyed a friendship that got me over that one particular rough spot – we never did meet face-to-face – and I gained some insights from that valuable experience. By striking out a match that would not have been quite right for me, I’ve been able to move forward in contentment with the life Hashem gives me. Thank You, Hashem!
