Secrets of a Jewish Mother: Real Advice, Real Family, Real Love (10 page)

I systematically ran through what I thought were the eligible Jewish men at Johns Hopkins during my freshman year of college by dating a new one almost every Saturday night. By dating, I mean dinner or a movie. In those days of yesteryear, men and women actually accompanied each other socially without expecting any sexual favors. Shocking, right? Anyway, none of those guys made a real impression on me. Right before sophomore year, I got a new haircut. Plus I had bought some snazzy Calvin Klein jeans and an electric-blue shiny shirt with a gold shiny vest to wear on the disco floor. It was 1979—what can I say? The Bee Gees’ “Night Fever” was practically our “Star-Spangled Banner.” Bill Wexler, Andover prep-pie, the sole Republican Jew on campus, must have been struck by lightning caused by the electric blue of my shiny shirt. He took one look at my new haircut and decided we were meant for each other.

I had known Bill only slightly, having dated both of his freshman roommates the prior year (only one of whom was Jewish, but that’s another story... ). When my Grandma Syl first laid eyes on Bill as he was standing across the quad, she literally said, “What a hunk.” I’ll never forget that. Picture a woman who never had a good word to say about anybody for most of her life and you can see just how funny that was. But it was true. Bill was six feet four inches tall, Rock Hudson in person, complete with that gorgeous black curly hair. I fell for his pink monogrammed shirt. Two weeks after our first date, Bill wrote a letter to his parents saying he had found the girl he was going to marry, but there was one problem: She was Orthodox Jewish. (Bill was wrong, but compared to his Bostonian Jewish upbringing, he might have had a point.) Every day I still wear the first gift Bill gave me, for our first Hanukkah together, a necklace that says YMETM (You Mean Everything to Me). I ran down the list of essentials Mommy had given me, and Bill passed every single one. He was funny, generous and kind. He was Jewish and smart. And he was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. Chemistry was not an issue. But what did know? Was there any guarantee it would last? Of course not. If you ask me now, I think the whole thing is a bit of a crapshoot. You increase your odds if you follow Mommy’s must-have and must-avoid rules, but you cannot know ahead of time what life is going to throw at you. You just have to pray you get your share of good luck. ■

My love life has always been a bit more complicated. Before Bobby, there was Steven, my first husband. I was in my twenties and living in Boston. I had decided that I had dated enough and was ready to get married. I always set goals for myself, and I had no doubt I would get what I wanted. But looking back, I attribute that to hard work and a little luck. wanted to go to college, open my own business and become a buyer for a clothing store, and I did all of those things. Now I wanted to get married. So I literally told everyone knew that I was looking for a husband. I left no stone unturned; every person was a potential connection to my unknown groom. Soon after, I was having dinner with my dear friends Jill and Robert and their friend Sue. I got right to it. I told Sue my life story and asked her if she knew any “nice Jewish boys” for me. She said she did know someone, and the description sounded pretty good. I gave her my number and asked her to make the match. Then I never heard from her. Like any well-trained salesperson, I let no lead go cold. After not hearing from this guy, I called Sue myself. A day or two later Steven Shapiro called me. I was so excited. We talked for about an hour, and he asked me if I was coming to New York City anytime soon. Actually I wasn’t, but I didn’t tell him that.

After our first “blind” date, when I flew to New York and met him in person, we fell in what I thought was love. It was a whirlwind courtship. Steven proposed just eight weeks after we met. I had just been promoted, but I didn’t feel guilty resigning that Monday morning. I was too excited about my own future. Looking back, at twenty-three years old, did I really even know what love was supposed to be? We seemed compatible. We had the same goals and values. Some said we even looked like brother and sister. Unfortunately, my marriage with Steven did not last. We were married ten years when I realized Steven was not the love of my life. Steven was my best friend, but it wasn’t enough. I was torn because of my daughter, Ally, and the effect the divorce would have on her, but I believed that separating before her teenage years would be better in the long run. I was also thinking of myself. I thought I had a better chance of finding what I was missing while I was still in my early thirties, with a very young and well-behaved child.

Steven and I had a most civilized divorce, although I hate that word, “divorce.” Divorce sounds final, and when you have a child together, there is nothing final about it. We are still raising a child together. We speak often about Allyson and attend important occasions together on her behalf. Early on, we agreed that all decisions would be based on what is best for Ally, and I am happy to say that eleven years later, we are both sticking to it. ■

Bobby is the great love of my life. Some people may call it lucky, but I believe that meeting Bobby was
b’shert
—in Yiddish, “meant to be.” I have these little miracles and coincidences that happen in my life all the time. In my mind, God clearly wanted us to be together. I first met Bobby in his fabric store shopping with my in-laws, Steven’s parents. They took me there to buy vertical blinds (very popular in the eighties) for our newly built weekend house in Pennsylvania. A few years later, my cousin Sharon’s son Michael was a counselor at Camp Nashopa, also in Pennsylvania. Sharon asked me to go to see Michael on “visiting day” at camp since she lived in Florida and wasn’t able to come. I went. Guess who Michael’s bunkmate was? Bobby’s son, Jonathan. I met Bobby again at camp that day.

During that same summer, I invited Michael to my house and he brought Jonathan along. At dinner that night, I told Michael that I was getting divorced from Steven. Michael was extremely upset, but Jonathan consoled him by sharing that his parents were getting divorced too. A few weeks later, I was bowling with Ally at Chelsea Piers, and Bobby was there with Jonathan. We literally ran into each other walking on the docks outside. Jonathan suggested we all have lunch together. Soon after, we were madly in love.

Of course, I ran down all of Mom’s criteria, and Bobby passed with flying colors. Plus Bobby was very successful, which was a big bonus for me. I have to admit that. I really admired the way he earned his own money and thought about business and investments. I learned a lot from him about business and still do. This aspect of his personality was a big attraction for me. One of Mommy’s critical rules is to marry smart!

When people ask me about me ex-husband, Steven, I always say he reminded me of my father. So does Bobby. My philosophy on this issue is you should marry someone from whom you would want to be divorced. I did not go into either marriage planning to get divorced, but I can say I married two wonderful men. Steven, Allyson’s dad, was my best friend, and I still know if I needed him now, he would be there for me. Bobby... well... we all know my Bobby. He never has a bad word to say about anyone and wishes I didn’t either. ■

Some women feel they must drop everything and change their whole life for the man they love. The Jewish mother says: “Wait just a second. I didn’t pay for you to go to four years of college just to watch you move to rural Montana, wait tables and see if your relationship will ‘work out.’ He wants you, he knows where you are. He comes to you. You don’t go anywhere until you have that ring on your finger. Then, and only then, you decide what is best for both of you.” A woman should never play second fiddle; she should always think of herself as first string.

1.
Take a look at Gloria’s checklist and be honest. Does your guy fall short? If so, move on. The right guy is out there.

2.
Not dating anyone yet? Why not? Have you asked everyone you know to set you up with someone? Have you gone online? What are you waiting for?

3.
Are you settling? Don’t give up the important things. If you want kids and he doesn’t, don’t assume that will change once you get married. If he isn’t working now, what makes you think he’ll be able to support you later? Better you should be alone than end up with someone who makes you miserable.

4.
Are you in a terrible relationship, married or otherwise? Life is too short to stay sad forever. Gatheryour courage, cry on your best friend’s shoulder and get a divorce. Marriage is not supposed to be a jail sentence.

Breaking up may be hard to do, but it is much worse being the one dumped than the one dumping. Much as it may pain you to do the rejecting, inside yourself you know you get to walk away. The only thing we can advise? Be kind. “Kind” does not translate into “doormat.” “Kind” does not mean stay with him becauseyou are afraid you will not find anyone else. “Kind” does not mean stay with him because he guilts you into it. “Kind” means deciding what is right for you and letting him know.