I was shocked to discover that I was afraid of getting married. My list of reasons to avoid marriage was long, but fear had never been one of them. I'd always assumed that the trauma of my parents' divorce was a tidal wave that passed over my head, hitting only my older brother and sister. Even when they reminisced about "when Mommy and Daddy were married," it felt to me that they were speaking about some vanished fairyland. As far as I was concerned my level of regret at not having experienced my parents' marriage paralleled my regret at not having been able to visit Atlantis or Camelot. It would have been neat to visit. The only feeling I could pinpoint was annoyance at my sister for constantly badgering: "When is Mommy going to live with Daddy again?" I missed her too, but it was clear to me that world was long extinct.
I was so clueless about my fear of marriage that it took 28 years to figure out. The beginning of the discovery started with a question from a rabbi. "Are you dating yet?"
"Is there something in your past holding you back from getting married?"
I was learning in a yeshiva in Jerusalem and knew the question meant: "I have someone who may be your soul mate. Are you ready to get married?"
"Nope, not dating," I fired back like a bullet. I shot down so many dating suggestions over the years until someone took me aside and gently asked, "Is there something in your past holding you back from getting married?"
I'd never thought about the question before. I tried to answer on the spot, but the answer I gave sounded false as it came out of my mouth. Around that time I was taking a course in therapy, and working with the instructor, I reconnected to forgotten memories from my childhood. It was my fifth year birthday party. I saw the blue pool and heard the splashing of the water as figures descended from the high dive. And I saw my mother on the other side of the pool from my father. No one said a word, but the sadness was crushing. After I turned five, Mommy was, as John Denver put it, "leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again."
I broke down sobbing. I had never cried about my mother leaving me. I didn't even remember I was sad. Over the next few years I slowly began to discover moments that had covered up the pain. When I was 11 I remember my brother saying, "I'm proud of mommy. I'm proud she got a divorce and went to Chicago University to get her Ph.D. degree. Now she's a doctor and runs her own practice." For me it just hurt that my mother had moved away. I was too caught up in the fact that getting on with her life meant "getting on with life" without me.
Later in life when my brother became a spin doctor for clients like Bill Gates, I understood that my brother had been spinning stories since childhood. I suppose it is more idealistic to view our mother's choice as heroic. I was too young to know the pain he'd glossed over, and just assumed something was wrong with me. I also digested the unspoken lesson that career and independence was more important than raising your child.
I began to see why I did not want to get married or have children. Why would I want to bring someone in the world who felt being born was a mistake? My parents were both nicer people than me and their marriage failed. Even if I did want to get married, how was I supposed to do better than my parents did? It was easier to avoid the proposition of a marriage's inevitable destruction.
I had never mourned for my own house that had been destroyed.
Over the next two years I went to therapy and uncovered the wreckage my mother's leaving made in my life. I eventually understood the complexity and pain of her decision. I accepted her regret, and fully forgave her. Even though she and I both probably still carry the pain, we carry it together.
I wasn't surprised when I found out that the Jewish date of my birthday was the ninth of Av – Tisha B'Av, the date the Jewish Temples were destroyed. When I discovered Tisha B'Av, I also discovered that I had never mourned for my own house that had been destroyed. Without first mourning, I would never be able to rebuild. My parents planted in me the subconscious belief that my life was meant to fall apart. It was the part in me that sabotaged any chance of getting married. It manufactured excuses to save me from a relationship of closeness I'd yearned for since my mother left us. Without mourning I was letting the subterranean fears of a child drive me towards a life with no connection to anyone outside myself. I was one up on my parents; I'd avoid marriage all together.
Once I let myself mourn, I was finally able to feel the horrible pain of being alone. Only then was it possible to turn the bitterness into the determination not to leave my life in destruction, cut off from any true meaningful relationship. I was determined to overcome my fear to build a lasting house and started investigating Jewish wisdom on marriage.
I discovered that when a man and a woman marry they create a miniature home for God's presence to dwell in the world. This is alluded to in the Hebrew words for man, "ish" and woman, "isha". The words are the same except that man has a letter 'yud' and woman has a letter 'hey'. When a man and woman marry, the 'yud' and 'hey' unite, spelling one of God's names. God becomes their third partner in the home. When a man and woman know there is a greater unifying force in their marriage, it allows them to overcome obstacles of personality and circumstance.
Remove God's name from the marriage, taking out the 'yud' and the 'hey', the remaining letters of 'man' and 'woman' spells 'aish' – 'fire'. Fire is something that destroys and breaks apart a structure. Marriage is meant to be a miraculous on-going peace process. The peace begins with two opposite people and continues with children. Without bringing God into the home, creating a foundation based on Jewish values, the home is in danger of falling apart.
When the Holy Temple was destroyed we lost the sense of connection to one another that allowed us to dwell together in one land. Each one of us was exiled from our home. Part of the rebuilding of the Temple, we are told, is to be done on the individual level. Our houses are meant to be miniature temples, holy spaces where a stranger coming in immediately senses the peace and warmth of a family, where God's blessing and presence dwells. When each of us in our homes learns to care and want good for one another, despite our differences, it knits together a society that includes God in every stitch. With God being a part of our private lives, He can then become a part of our national life.
(16) Daniel Dobrin, August 13, 2015 3:19 AM
That's too bad, mate; best of luck
Best of luck
(15) Andy Shulman, August 6, 2015 9:43 PM
article
very well written.
(14) Anonymous, November 5, 2009 6:45 AM
Beautiful and articulate
*Remove God's name from the marriage, taking out the 'yud' and the 'hey', the remaining letters of 'man' and 'woman' spells 'aish' – 'fire'.* This is so very true - thank you for the article - as a reluctant prospective divorcee and product of divorce, this was a tremendously articulate article, two people in a marriage, both need to selflessly embrace the same values.. sad when we cant, and our beautiful precious gifts, our children suffer the loss of either parent.
(13) Joey, August 21, 2009 8:39 PM
Fascinating Article
Very interesting insights into both marriage and the Temple(which, like marriage, had nothing left but "fire" when "God" was removed). I feel encouraged to investigate my own subconscious problems now. Thank you and God bless!
(12) Malky, August 11, 2009 2:24 AM
money and degrees are nothing compared to a mothers love
I divorced 5 years ago from a narcissistic husband. I'm on public assistance and will not take a 9 to 5 job in the city but rather part time jobs.. I believe in being there for the kids when they come home from school. I also believe in mommy made hot suppers every night. This is when they need us. Money and degrees is not everything. Neglect is extremely painful, I hope the author can fully forgive and recover and move on with his life and have a happy future. Much blessing.
Anonymous, November 20, 2011 6:40 PM
Malky--You sound like a very strong, smart and loving mother. If you are reading my comment, I hope with all my heart that your former husband is paying you the child support that your children deserve.
(11) Anonymous, August 3, 2009 2:49 AM
loved your articel
Great article, i can totally relate to ti. I would love to e-mail you if possible. tks:)
(10) Anonymous, August 2, 2009 7:31 PM
I lived through this. Ours has a happy ending. When the sons were 7 and 5 their mother moved away with a man who did not like children. The sons stayed with me. I was a lawyer. I had JUST started my own practice. We lived on a lake. I would not trust my little guys to babysitters so I did not work that summer. We learned how to operate a motor boat, waterski, and in the winter we snow skied. Within 5 years we had a place in the mountains where we spent a month each winter skiing. 18 years later I met a wonderful woman. The older son had just finished law school and the younger was a year from graduating. They both lived in a home on campus another dad and I bought a home for our sons. Young Son called after I had been seeing my new girlfriend for about a year. "Dad, are you going to marry her?" "I don't know." "If you don't, I am moving home." I did and now 22 years I am so grateful and happy to be married. Wife No. 1 returned from California still single 6 years after leaving home. Would I marry her? No, but thanks. She did not see the kids often, but called regularly. But when they started having children, she was THERE! I call her "The World's Best GrandMa." Once one grandchild asked why I always kiss Grandma on the cheek. I said, "Because she gave me the two greatest blessings of my life, your Dad and your Uncle. One last thought on why I stopped handling divorce cases years ago. I don't know who the idiot was who thought up "No-Fault Divorce". You want a divorce, go to court. No reason needed. Divorce is now a product of sick, pathetic selfishness--most of the time (there are maybe 1 or 2 out of 10 divorces justified). We DON'T NEED encouragement for selfishness. And the CHILDREN'S NEEDS ARE IGNORED as the selfish parent races to the courthouse. SHAME ON YOU! Stewart Perry
(9) Dvirah, July 30, 2009 2:56 PM
Divorce vs. Abandonment
It seems to me that the real damage was done not by the divorce as such, but by the fact that the mother left and, it appears from the wording of the article, did not have much contact with her children afterwards. I know of cases where even after the divorce both parents kept up close and loving relationships with their children.
(8) Alan S., July 27, 2009 11:28 PM
Sad story but one comment needs clarification.
A truly horrifying story.My sincere heartfelt sympathies go out to the author. However, there is one comment that perhaps I do not understand: " My parent's planted in me the subconscious belief that my life was meant to fall apart". This comment would mean that even during better times, upon the author's conception or at birth, the parents in essence cursed this child. What a horrific thing to even contemplate. I would much rather that the sentence be rewritten to more accurately reflect the fact -- such as I assume -- that the author believes that the divorce itself planted such seeds as a byproduct.
Rebecca, August 6, 2015 8:27 AM
Clarification:
You cannot take the blame from what the authors parents did and put it on 'the divorce', because the divorce is precisely what the parents did. They chose divorce, and in doing so, they chose for their children the life that was essentially torn apart, and that resulted in the author's subconscious belief that his life was meant to fall apart. Therefore they are the ones who planted that belief. Although it was not intentional to plant this belief, nonetheless, they are the ones responsible. The parents did not plant this belief at birth, or in better times, but only when they made the choice to tear apart the family that is such an important part of the child's life and identity.
By pointing this out the author is not condemning the parents, but rather emphasizing how much divorce hurts the child, no matter what the intentions of the parents.
(7) Rachel, July 27, 2009 6:47 PM
To other readers -- don't judge the writer's mother
I'm a mother and can't imagine leaving my children. But I can understand that in some situations, divorce is better, and leaving the children with their father might be, too. I know several people whose parents stayed together "for the sake of the kids" and the kids wish they'd been raised happliy by one parent rather than miserably in a home with no shalom bayit. Similarly, I find it odd that people condemn women for getting advanced degrees -- especially since there's such derision for women who "take their husbands for all their worth" if they ask for a settlement. And I know at least one man whose immigrant mother was essentially forced to leave -- her child, and the US -- by her American husband. I wish those suffering these losses that they may find comfort and love.
(6) Kathryn, July 27, 2009 2:41 PM
Motherhood
In the depths of my darkest mind I can not imagine a mother leaving her children. The essence of parenthood is putting the best interest of your children ahead of your own desires. Those who are too immature and self centered to do that should not become parents. Who said "If a woman fails at raising her children -- well nothing else much matters!" It is so true that when G-d blesses you with children He expects you to fulfill your obligation to those children. I am sure that I learned more by raising my children that from obtaining an advanced degree (I have 2).
(5) Jane L, July 27, 2009 10:27 AM
Impossible to understand, but easy to send loving kind thoughts
I feel for you and Anonymous "lump in throat." I cannot fathom a mother leaving her child for anything except to save their life is some extraordinary circumstance. It would be like tearing your heart out of your body and throwing it away! I am the other side of the coin. I was divorced after 27 years. It was a situation where I had no choice, other than imprisonment and continued servitude. It was the side effect of the divorce which has nearly destroyed me. My children abandoned me, one partially and one completely. Your comparison to the destruction of the temple may just help me. If I can see myself as in the Diaspora, practicing Judaism as I rebuild a life with as much meaning and love as possible can be my testament to HaShem. I should not give up until my last breath. The covenent isn't just in "good times" it also applies in bad times (really bad horrible times) Thank you Mr. Michael Schulman. I believed you have really helped.
(4) Anonymous, July 27, 2009 9:02 AM
impact of divorce
Your story is very sad, as you were all very young and with the divorce your mother disappeared from your lives - very unwise of her, causing a lot of damage. Each person has a different experience when parents divorce, depending on the age of the children, what went on in the home during the preceeding years, and how the parents handled their relationship with the children. You are also correct, when one removes HaSh-m from the marriage you have aish, fire. Often, even in religious homes, when a marriage just does not work, for what ever the reason, one or both of the couple, ususally subconscienscously, removes HaSh-m from their coupledom, dooming the marriage to be consumed in fire. As you already understand this, you are more than half way to healing and being able to build a bayit ne'eman with your zivug. May HaSh-m help you do just that.
(3) Anonymous, July 26, 2009 10:15 PM
Torn
Having come from a divorced home and currently facing the prospect of divorce, I know too well the anguish children go through, it is so sad, that we cant rise above ourselves get our priorities in order, seek help, therapy, do whatever it takes to make it work, but it takes two, can't be done if one of the partners does not desire it. Thank you for your article, if given the opportunity, I will put your advice to use.
(2) Anonymous, July 26, 2009 6:17 PM
Lump in throat
My mother too left home when I was a kid, and ended up getting her PhD (in music--what a thing to trade your kids for, huh?). When she left, she didn't allow my brother and me to have her phone number or know her address--and looking back I can say that she wasn't particularly interested in me even when she was living with us. My father didn't want us either but was stuck with us. I didn't get married late too, until my 40s by design. Becoming observant steered me towards marriage. Thank G-d I have an understanding spouse and I work very hard to be a good spouse myself. Your story really touched a chord in me. I have been frum for about 8 years and haven't yet been able to connect with Tisha Bav. For some reason, it is the one day in the Jewish calendar that leaves me cold. This year, I think I will be able to really mourn like everyone else, thanks to your moving essay. You explained the personal conection and "brought it home". Our homes are in ruins. Each and everyone of us, at some level. People like you and me have had the profound hidden blessing of having our real homes--our family, -- destroyed perhaps in order to help us really feel the pain of our galus, more than others who have their families intact. I do want to mention that Tehillim, especially number 27 has helped me very much in making sense of the pain in my life. Maybe it will help you as you search for your beshert and make your own home, your own Mikdash Me'at.
(1) ruth housman, July 26, 2009 6:14 PM
Yod Hey
I found your comments were insightful and learned something beautiful that I had no realized from your deconstruction of ish and isha. With respect to fire, it's really an interesting word, and, as we all know, the first visible manifestation of God, for Moses, was the bush that was not consumed, the burning bush. I cannot think of fire without referring to this in my mind's eye. Fire is a bipolar thing, mention we need the fire and fire is part of our language in so many ways, certainly in English being not just the flame that destroys and is also beautiful, but also for one's beloved, one's new "flame". I can go on with the myriad language connects using fire. So I am saying, it feels providential to me that you have put these pieces of your life together in a meaningful, beautiful way, and that this particular day of mourning, being also your birthday, fits so beautifully into your story, which is about a house on fire. I say to people, Look to the threads of your very own, precious stories, and within you will find, going down the years, something of beauty that is, divinely not just your story, but "divine".