Secrets of a Jewish Mother: Real Advice, Real Family, Real Love (5 page)

There are some friends you choose and some that are chosen for you. Mommy always wanted me to be friendly with a particular girl named Sarah who was the daughter of her close friend. But every conversation with this girl was an effort. I tried to be kind, but the friendship, from my point of view, was more of a mitzvah than anything else. When college began, we saw each other once or twice, then lost touch completely. It was nobody’s fault; neither one of us had called the other.

When I was twenty-nine, my mother called to tell me that Sarah had a brain tumor and was in the hospital. Coincidentally, I had a friend who was working at that hospital, and I asked her to check up on Sarah. My friend reported back to me that she seemed to be doing fine. After I heard that Sarah was doing fine, I did nothing. I made no visit to the hospital, no phone call, nothing. I put Sarah out of my mind, assuming she would heal.

Aunt Cooky got the phone call that Sarah had died. I knew I needed to go to the funeral. Even though I hadn’t seen the family in years, wanted to pay my respects.

Imagine the scene: the funeral chapel, filled to capacity. The funeral ends and the family is ushered into a room where they stand in a receiving line, greeting all the guests. I get in line. Aunt Cooky is right behind me. I make eye contact with Sarah’s mother, a woman whom I had known since I was ten years old. I even called her “Aunt Rita.” She sees me and starts shouting at me, in front of the whole group of people. “How dare you show up today? Sarah loved you like a sister! What kind of friend were you? You knew she was sick and you never even called ... ,” and on and on. I felt sick. My heart was pumping out of my chest. Aunt Cooky grabbed my wrist like a vise and pulled me outside. Talk about guilt. I was a mess. What could I do to make it up to this mother? How could I make the guilt go away? Sarah was already gone. I did the only thing I could think of—I wrote a beautiful, heartfelt note of apology. I hoped to hear from her, but I never did. After Sarah’s funeral, I made a promise to myself to be there for my friends and their families. Since then, I have never ignored a phone call telling me someone I know is in the hospital. ■

1.
To whom do you need to apologize? Fess up.

2.
How much does it bother you that you are not on good terms with this person?

3.
How difficult is it for you to apologize in general? If it is difficult for you, ask yourself why. Are you afraid you won’t be forgiven?

4.
Did someone apologize to you in a way that you felt was insincere? How did you handle it?

One day a few years ago, I looked up and realized an entire circle of my friends in Florida was no longer returning my phone calls or inviting me out. It was like I had been cut out of their lives entirely. These were people whom I had known for years and whom I had utterly respected for what they had accomplished in their lives. Months went by, and finally a mutual friend told me that I had been excommunicated because I had not attended a luncheon given by one of the women and had not called to say why. I was shocked to hear this from my friend. Obviously I had completely forgotten. These women knew me for years and knew that I would never intentionally forget their party. If they cared about me at all, they would have phoned me to find out why I wasn’t there, and I could have jumped in the car to join them. Instead, they acted as if I had committed an unforgivable sin and needed to be punished. I learned that day that these friends were not my friends. Real friends would have forgiven and let it go. ■

Who would have thought a few words in New York magazine would be the opening scene of season two? After season one the show was deemed a big success, and many media outlets approached all of us for interviews. In the New York magazine summer issue for 2008, this quote appeared in an article about Simon and Alex McCord, two costars of the show:

“I’ve always loved to study people. I mean, for example, Jill’s from Long Island, and boy that shows.”

I read that quote, which was from Simon, and I didn’t like it. It hurt my feelings; I wasn’t sure what he meant by that remark. But if you hurt me, I will react. So after I read this article, I gave an interview to Cindy Adams in the New York Post in June 2008:

“I do not speak to those two. First of all, he drinks too much. And is very insulting. She and I will keep doing the show, of course, but I will have nothing to do with her otherwise.”

Uh-oh; I had overreacted. I had started a war. Cindy Adams is a famous New York gossip columnist. Everybody reads her. Bobby was not happy with what I said about Simon and thought I overreacted. Bobby is always right. This incident, the tit for tat in the press, became content for the first episode of season two. Eventually, the Jewish mother wisdom that I got from Mommy kicked in, and I knew I needed to apologize. I still think Simon was wrong and should have apologized. He never did. But I can only control my own behavior. So I did. On camera, I called Simon to apologize. ■

Some people love their grudges. They love holding on to them. They nourish them with bitter commentary, and they nurse their grievances like they would feed a bottle to a starving infant. We all know people like that. Eventually, those people end up with lives that are like very small rooms. There is no space for anyone else to fit in.

1.
How good are you at forgiving your friends?

2.
Do you have “rules” and stick to them, or are you flexible?

3.
Who have you not forgiven? Why not?

4.
Admit it: What grudges are you still holding? Don’t you know it’s not healthy for you?

5.
When was the last time you apologized for your behavior? Was it sincere?

6.
What was the reaction to your apology?

7.
Are there times when you know you should apologize and you don’t? Why not?

8.
Do you recall an incident in which you sincerely apologized but you were not forgiven? How did you feel?