Army Wife (of a Yid)
My husband has been called up to "active duty". He is in New York with "his people" (aka: Hassidim). He is hitting the hot spots like Boro Park (Brooklyn), New Square and Monsey just to name a few. This mission is for "soldiers" only and so I stayed home to man the "home base" during Shavuot and the upcoming shabbos.
After two days of this holiday, I have played a combined total of 8 hours of baseball with my 2 eight-year-olds (I manage to play 6 positions at once while my sons hit and run the bases), spend quality time with some friends, catch up on some reading, hear a couple lectures, walk several miles to and from various homes and our synagogue (we do not drive on religious holidays), stroll around our lake with my boys looking for snakes and eat burnt food at our rabbi's house (they like to make sure everything is well done).
I anticipate my husband's return "home" from his active duty. He has called me during his "service" to tell me how excited he is to be with people who "look just like he does". I ask him if this is a new revelation as to me most religious Jews with black hats and black coats look like he does. Our joke is whether he will wear black pants with a white shirt or a white shirt with black pants. But he explains that there are subtle differences. I suppose. Anyway, I am sure there will be many stories, adventures, casualties and victories (new-found kosher establishments) and new rituals from his service.
I often berate myself for not being a solider. I know he and many others would feel more comfortable if I were more solider-like, but I am just not solider material and being an orthodox Jew is an army-like service. It requires much study, discipline, commitment practice and obsession all mixed in with an unyielding belief. It calls upon us even when we wish not to be called upon. My children often ask me what I am? Ashkenazi? Hassidic? Modern-Orthodox? Sephardic? My answer is always the same. I am Jewish. I don't like labels....except there is one I will wear...."army-wife."
After two days of this holiday, I have played a combined total of 8 hours of baseball with my 2 eight-year-olds (I manage to play 6 positions at once while my sons hit and run the bases), spend quality time with some friends, catch up on some reading, hear a couple lectures, walk several miles to and from various homes and our synagogue (we do not drive on religious holidays), stroll around our lake with my boys looking for snakes and eat burnt food at our rabbi's house (they like to make sure everything is well done).
I anticipate my husband's return "home" from his active duty. He has called me during his "service" to tell me how excited he is to be with people who "look just like he does". I ask him if this is a new revelation as to me most religious Jews with black hats and black coats look like he does. Our joke is whether he will wear black pants with a white shirt or a white shirt with black pants. But he explains that there are subtle differences. I suppose. Anyway, I am sure there will be many stories, adventures, casualties and victories (new-found kosher establishments) and new rituals from his service.
I often berate myself for not being a solider. I know he and many others would feel more comfortable if I were more solider-like, but I am just not solider material and being an orthodox Jew is an army-like service. It requires much study, discipline, commitment practice and obsession all mixed in with an unyielding belief. It calls upon us even when we wish not to be called upon. My children often ask me what I am? Ashkenazi? Hassidic? Modern-Orthodox? Sephardic? My answer is always the same. I am Jewish. I don't like labels....except there is one I will wear...."army-wife."
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