Sometimes Why
May. 24th, 2010 08:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
talonkarrde"Why?" they ask. More commonly, they simply gaze in disgust, befuddlement, or amazement.
I can't really give them an answer they will understand, no matter how good of a communicator I am, perhaps storytelling at its heart requires the listener to be as involved as the speaker, and they have never encountered a choice like this.
Or perhaps I am simply not skilled enough with my words, not empathetic enough, and I can not lead them from what they know to what I understand.
She could, though.
-
I do it because of the...how did she put it? Really obnoxious, precocious children we would have. The ones that I say would rule the world.
I can see so clearly our children doing the thing where they do at age eight or nine and ask one parent for something and, when denied, go to the other parent, trying to play them against each other.
And I can see, without a doubt, our eyes meeting over the little one's head and sharing a smile, and then...we play with him - or her, drawing out the please and arguments until, because he is precocious, he realizes that we've just been stringing him along.
And he pouts, of course, and starts to work up to a tantrum until she comes over and kisses his forehead, smoothes the frown away, and then lets him have what he was asking for in the first place. Not every time, of course, but just this once, because we were teasing him and he deserves it.
I always said she'd make a wonderful mother.
-
"It is hard," a friend of mine says over the phone, and I interrupt — "I know; I've done some research."
"Well, your first step is to find a beth din. There's one in South Jersey, but I wouldn't advise it — they're Haredis, extremely conservative. There's another one in Elizabeth, I think..."
"Well...that's the absolute start of it, right? The start of the process, I mean. I..." pause, trying to put words to thoughts. "I don't want to jump into it and make a hasty decision. I need...a consult, in other words. Is there someone I can...speak to, without it being..."
"Well, that's sort of tricky...because of the way that—"
"I know," I interrupt again, never one for listening to how things couldn't work. I'm like House, I said to her once: I prefer to assume that what I believe is right and make decisions based on that. It makes more sense, certainly than assuming I'm wrong.
"But I can get you some numbers, I think."
And with a quiet thank you, I take a step to change my words into actions.
-
I do it because of the way that we have talked, honestly, always, about our hopes and dreams, about our futures and the challenges that we faced. I do it for the one afternoon we shared when we carried on the conversations from days past about what separates dying cultures from thriving ones, about converting and the cavalier way I always talked about it, about a thousand words over five hours that I don't remember anymore that simply boiled down to two people who loved each other spending time with one another.
-
I don't know how it'll turn out. There are so many uncertainties, so many challenges. A year is a long time, and the process, as everyone tells me, is hard. And perhaps one of us will have moved on by then, leaving the other clutching memories of a holiday afternoon. Or perhaps both of us will have moved on — that would be...second best, in my opinion.
I said once that I was unafraid, because even though the odds were against us ("don't quote me the odds", I told her) what we had, together, was solid, flawless. It was the only lie I've ever told her — I'm deathly afraid, more so than I have been of anything in my life, we'll be left with nothing but a memory of an afternoon. But it is not fear that motivates me, or even to avoid regret — I would never forgive myself if I could have done something to make this work and didn't.
I do it because I believe, above all else, in love, and a God who does not put burdens on us that we can not bear.
But it would be so much easier to shoulder if she were by my side.
I can't really give them an answer they will understand, no matter how good of a communicator I am, perhaps storytelling at its heart requires the listener to be as involved as the speaker, and they have never encountered a choice like this.
Or perhaps I am simply not skilled enough with my words, not empathetic enough, and I can not lead them from what they know to what I understand.
She could, though.
-
I do it because of the...how did she put it? Really obnoxious, precocious children we would have. The ones that I say would rule the world.
I can see so clearly our children doing the thing where they do at age eight or nine and ask one parent for something and, when denied, go to the other parent, trying to play them against each other.
And I can see, without a doubt, our eyes meeting over the little one's head and sharing a smile, and then...we play with him - or her, drawing out the please and arguments until, because he is precocious, he realizes that we've just been stringing him along.
And he pouts, of course, and starts to work up to a tantrum until she comes over and kisses his forehead, smoothes the frown away, and then lets him have what he was asking for in the first place. Not every time, of course, but just this once, because we were teasing him and he deserves it.
I always said she'd make a wonderful mother.
-
"It is hard," a friend of mine says over the phone, and I interrupt — "I know; I've done some research."
"Well, your first step is to find a beth din. There's one in South Jersey, but I wouldn't advise it — they're Haredis, extremely conservative. There's another one in Elizabeth, I think..."
"Well...that's the absolute start of it, right? The start of the process, I mean. I..." pause, trying to put words to thoughts. "I don't want to jump into it and make a hasty decision. I need...a consult, in other words. Is there someone I can...speak to, without it being..."
"Well, that's sort of tricky...because of the way that—"
"I know," I interrupt again, never one for listening to how things couldn't work. I'm like House, I said to her once: I prefer to assume that what I believe is right and make decisions based on that. It makes more sense, certainly than assuming I'm wrong.
"But I can get you some numbers, I think."
And with a quiet thank you, I take a step to change my words into actions.
-
I do it because of the way that we have talked, honestly, always, about our hopes and dreams, about our futures and the challenges that we faced. I do it for the one afternoon we shared when we carried on the conversations from days past about what separates dying cultures from thriving ones, about converting and the cavalier way I always talked about it, about a thousand words over five hours that I don't remember anymore that simply boiled down to two people who loved each other spending time with one another.
-
I don't know how it'll turn out. There are so many uncertainties, so many challenges. A year is a long time, and the process, as everyone tells me, is hard. And perhaps one of us will have moved on by then, leaving the other clutching memories of a holiday afternoon. Or perhaps both of us will have moved on — that would be...second best, in my opinion.
I said once that I was unafraid, because even though the odds were against us ("don't quote me the odds", I told her) what we had, together, was solid, flawless. It was the only lie I've ever told her — I'm deathly afraid, more so than I have been of anything in my life, we'll be left with nothing but a memory of an afternoon. But it is not fear that motivates me, or even to avoid regret — I would never forgive myself if I could have done something to make this work and didn't.
I do it because I believe, above all else, in love, and a God who does not put burdens on us that we can not bear.
But it would be so much easier to shoulder if she were by my side.
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no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 12:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 12:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 12:47 am (UTC)my best friend did that when she got married...she became the uber jew - got a masters in judaic study and doing additional rabbinical (sp?) studies...
no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 02:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 02:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 04:39 am (UTC)"I can't imagine you as a Jew" is something I've heard way too many times in the last few days.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 01:10 am (UTC)It's a lot of work but if this is what you feel called to do, nothing will stand in your way.
Glad you're still in the contest :o)
no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 01:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 03:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 04:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 11:19 am (UTC)I think I liked that second-to-last line the best.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 06:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 09:43 pm (UTC)Sometimes the love we have to work for the hardest will be the one that lasts.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-26 04:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-26 03:35 am (UTC)♥ This is really touching.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-26 04:26 am (UTC)On the other hand, though, I think i'm done with non-fiction. :P Can't suddenly turn into a journal writer now!
no subject
Date: 2010-05-27 11:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-26 07:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-26 09:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-27 03:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-27 04:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-27 05:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-06 04:38 am (UTC)