We were invited to a Bat Mitzvah of a friend, yet because of summertime and teenagers being away or very busy, we couldn’t find a babysitter.
My husband told me to contact his mom.
His mom, an incredibly generous and supportive person, has confided in me on many occasions, how exhausted she is from doing favors (watching her 13 grandchildren on a regular basis). Understanding her point, my husband and I have made intentional efforts not to request assistance from her. In the four years that we’ve lived close by to her, we’ve probably only asked for help three times, one of which was last night.
When we dropped off the kids, I told her that we wouldn’t be long, perhaps only a couple of hours.
The Bat Mitzvah (celebration only) started last night at 7:30 at a beautiful hotel in Haifa, beginning with a “welcoming” with hors d’oeuvres and drinks on the main porch. Then, we ascended to the roof for the main meal and celebration, which began with a table filled with 15 salads, breads, and more drinks. By 9:30, the table was already served hot noodles with chicken.
The D.J. announced, “Come to the dance floor everyone, to burn off some calories before the main meal!”
Main meal? I thought to myself. Is that what he said?
I asked my husband, and he concurred. Yes, there would be a meat meal coming out soon.
So, I thought to myself, do we really need to stay much longer? I personally had enough and wanted to return to his mother, who was undoubtedly waiting up for us to come back and retrieve the kids.
I asked my husband if he were ok to leave at the moment, he shrugged his shoulders (as if he didn’t care either way). I told him of my concern with his mom having to stay awake for us.
We didn’t dance. We stayed at the table and continued to talk to our new friends.
I asked again. Again, no firm answer either way. Again, I told him of my concern about his mother. He didn’t mention being hungry or wanting to stay to eat.
By 10:00, I asked my husband, Do we really need to stay just to eat meat??
So, he said ok, we said our goodbyes and headed out the door.
When we reached the elevator, he sighed, “I’m really hungry.”
Hungry? I thought. After all that food we just ate? And, why didn’t you say anything?
The story continues (I won’t fill you in with all the details, but the end of the story was, we returned back to the Bat Mitzvah so that he could eat his meat meal.)
Throughout this whole saga, I was proud that I wasn’t stuck on leaving (even though I felt it was the right thing to do), and was present to my husband’s needs, etc.
But, the point of this blog is to say that when we got back to his mom’s house, we found her sitting outside on the porch half awake and exhausted (at 11:00 pm).
My husband was surprised. Why are you awake, he asked.
Why? she replied. Because I had to wait up for you to get the kids.
I was so right.
No question about it.
And, when we got in the car on the ride home, I was stuck on being right. I was stuck on (desire) showing off to my husband that *I* was right.
But, the more I am practicing noticing how stuck I am, the quicker I can get off the branch.
I noticed I was stuck.
So, I just noticed being stuck. Noticed how it felt. Noticed were I felt it in my body (which was in my face). And, I noticed being stuck wasn’t necessarily going to make me happier. In fact, if anything, if I were to open my mouth about it, it probably would have caused a fight.
But, it came back again. I was stuck again.
And, I noticed. Again.
And, in the 15 minute care ride home, I probably got stuck 10 times, but I was able to notice it each time and just let it be. Each time.
Just noticing really led me to freedom and happiness in that moment.
What a feeling.