Every twenty- and thirtysomething who is single and has a Jewish mother is familiar with the following routine: You call your mother from time to time, for me it is usually on Friday afternoons (usually because you get made to feel a bit guilty if you don't).
During this phone call you know you are going to hear something like "You know, I have this friend Mrs. Goldenbloom who goes to the bungalow colony with Mrs. Schecter, and your father knows Mr. Goldenbloom from a deal they worked on together last year, and the year before, and I think they know each other from a shiur (lecture) they go to together. And I was talking to Mrs. Schecter and she wants to set you up with Mrs. Goldenbloom's daughter, Ruthie. She is really perfect. She is y'know, offbeat. . . like you. . . Should I try to set it up? She is really your type." (None of these are the real names.)
I get this often. My mother means well and unfortunately, has too many friends with single daughters. Every time it is a different name. Sometimes the names repeat once or twice.
I never really take it seriously, and I rarely let it actually get past the phone call. I assume my mother has no idea what I want in a woman.
Now, there was recently an event which Mr. Goldenbloom knew my father would atttend, because they had spoken earlier that day. Mr. Goldenbloom brought a book for my father to have. The book was a memorial book for his daughter, Ruthie, who was killed on September 11, in the World Trade Center.
I was looking through this book while I was staying at my parents' house for two days over the holiday. While reading it, I saw why people would have wanted to set us up. She really was a unique girl, and an interesting person. We certainly would not have been on the same wavelength about many things, and she was a bit older than me, but reading this I did feel like I missed out by not taking my mother seriously here.
Thursday, May 27, 2004
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