I didn’t grow up religious, but I’ve been living the life (as it were) for half my life. I often forget that people who met me ten or five or two years ago don’t know about my backstory. Not that it comes up that often, because there are usually more interesting things to talk about. Like the weather. Trust me, every single degree of change in a cooler direction is worth discussing. (Hi! Desert living! Love it! In…the winter.)
But there are a few topics that always make me feel unable to pass.
Always-religious people: Yuck! I can’t even imagine!
Me: WANT. Can’t have. In my next life I’m inventing kosher shellfish.
Always-religious people: Rosh Hashana
Me: Dec. 31-Jan 1.
Reaction to bad news (specifically, hearing that someone has died)
Always-religious people: ברוך דיין אמת (Blessed is the true judge, i.e., God.)
Me: Oh no! That’s terrible!
Last week I felt this divide again, when friends of ours (Taxman brought them to the marriage) lost their father, who was also a friend of Taxman’s.
I am going to skip right to the takeaway:
You never know whose life you’ll touch.
Were it not for the kindness, openness, generosity, and intellectual honesty of this man, his wife and his kids (and other families like theirs), Taxman and I probably would not have had a good shot at getting married.
We’re forever in debt; trying to pay it back (forward, really) one day at a time.