It was him, it was her, it was her parents, it was his parents, it’s the Bais Yaakov system, it’s the yeshivah system, etc.
P
erhaps it’s all in my mind, but I feel as if every person I pass on the street is staring at me. It seems that even silence means whispers behind my back. Speculating about the reasons and juicy details of the demise of my over-20-year-marriage. I’m up to Chapter 26 of my book on stupid things people say.
I was recently at the wedding of my dear friend’s daughter, when a guest came over to me and, in front of everyone, asked me if I got my get yet. It was then that I considered placing an announcement in the newspaper, right next to the engagements, or perhaps on the front page with the kol koreihs from the gedolim, or maybe, more appropriately, next to the obituaries. The explanation would be brief:
“Dovid, son of Shmuel, of Brooklyn, New York divorced Raizel, daughter of Meir, of Monsey, New York. Dovid stopped taking his medication and cooperating with his therapist (with whom he never really cooperated with in the first place, and no, Raizy didn’t know he had this condition before they married, and yes, they did consult with gedolei Yisrael and yes, they did try everything they could). Dovid’s parents are sitting shivah at their home, Dovid is nowhere to be seen, Raizel’s parents can’t even utter the word divorce, so don’t bring up the subject with them.
“Raizel looks like the glowing kallah she never was and is thrilled that Hashem redeemed her from Egypt. She looks forward to the sea splitting once again. The kids are FINE. Yes, you read that correctly. The kids are fine. They are very relieved they no longer need to parent their father on a daily basis and only need to put up with him on Yamim Tovim and occasional supervised visits.
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