When I was eighteen, the daughter of my mom’s friend invited me on a double date. I don’t think I had been out on a date since I was 13. The guy I was fixed up with was from New York and we didn’t really hit it off. I don’t remember much about that evening but one week later, the other guy phoned me and asked me out. It seems that he was more interested in me than in his own date. I refused because he was dating my mom’s friend’s daughter but he insisted he wasn’t, so, I accepted. However later, my mother told me that it had caused a huge commotion with her friend when she found out. I felt so bad about it but it wasn’t my fault. He and I went out on that date and the following week he asked me out again…that’s when he asked me to marry him. Can you believe it? One week later…and I said yes. My dad was not pleased. He had warned me that this young man had a very bad reputation for being a womanizer but I refused to believe him. It’s amazing how dumb we think our parents are when we are 18, but I remember thinking, who would ever want to marry me? He was handsome and rich like a Prince charming and I saw myself as ugly and poor. How could I pass up such an opportunity that might never come again? Now that’s a good reason for getting married! As Forrest Gump said… “Stupid is as stupid does.”
We went out every week; he would spend a lot of time at my house having more conversations with my mom who really liked him and he liked her. She had a head for business… come to think of it, he should have married her. I remember little about the wedding on January 15, 1967 except that I stood there waiting to walk down the aisle but wanting to run in the opposite direction. The entire event is wiped from my mind! I was so young; I had no idea about life, how to decorate a house, how to run a home, how to cook…. I knew nothing! I wonder why my father didn’t say, “this man is not for you, I am not paying for the wedding” …instead he and my mom went into debt for it.
From the first night, I knew it was a mistake. Without going in the sordid details, no one knew the inner hell I was living, in this loveless marriage…how deep that pain went. Everytime I read about Princess Diana, I know exactly how she felt. I had jumped from the fry pan into the fire. I can still remember the emptiness today that I couldn’t share with anyone but thank God the feeling is gone. I tried to talk to his mother about it because I couldn’t talk to mine but the only thing that she would say was “Just love him.” I didn’t know what she meant, but I didn’t ask her. I don’t want to talk about what happened because it doesn’t serve anyone except to say that it would be another 9 years until I was finally able to leave him. We had two beautiful daughters, but the moment came when it had become intolerable. I am grateful today, almost 50 years later that I have been able to talk to him about it. He doesn’t know why he behaved the way he did, he simply said, “I am sorry.” For that I am glad and especially that I can forgive. Now I only wish the best for him.
Why is this important in my story? It was so long ago but it still feels like yesterday. I guess because it caused me to search for love in all the wrong places until one day, I did meet the man who would have been the perfect person for me…but even that was not meant to be. Life has a strange way of testing us.
Back to that pain in my gut…still searching for the incessant pain, I came across a book by Adele Davis, the vitamin guru of her day, called “Get Well and Eat Right to Keep Fit”. I tried to follow it as best as I could and if I remember, she ate liver for breakfast and took a truckload of vitamins. I learned a lot from Ms. Davis which still holds me in good stead today, but when I read that Ms. Davis died of Multiple Myeloma in 1974, I thought, “all right, there’s some truth here but obviously there’s more to health than simply what we eat”.
Then I found tennis. It gave me an outlet for my bottled-up sadness and loneliness and allowed me to meet people. I went to two tennis camps and tried to be good at it but was never good enough. It didn’t matter what I did, I never felt that it was good enough…not a good enough wife, not a good enough mother, definitely not a good enough tennis player. There were times I couldn’t breathe. Suddenly I was pregnant with number three child. How could I have another baby when I didn’t have enough emotional energy to give to first my two baby girls? I asked my mother-in law what to do. Her advice was to spend 48 hours thinking that I would have it and see how I felt and then spend the next 48 hours thinking that I would not have it and see how that felt. What odd advice knowing what I know now! Sadly, I chose to abort. I was told that the 10-week-old “fetus” was just tissue. It wasn’t yet a baby. I can’t remember asking my husband. I think I just told him. I had sat on a pro-choice committee, where I was interviewed on the radio and at the time thought that it was a good choice. How could I know that this little person was a fully formed embryo with tiny feet, hands, lungs, heart, and soul. God forgive me as I write this through tears and pain that will be wiped away only with my last breath of life. Today I am a staunch pro-lifer knowing that God said, You shall not commit premeditated murder. I am so glad that he is a God who forgives. I certainly suffered the consequences in later years of taking the life of this innocent soul. I named him David and am looking forward to meeting him one day in the olam habah.
Yom Atzmaut Sameach 5775
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