it’s nice to be kind

How is it possible to long to return to a place you’ve never been? To feel at home the first time you’re there? How can I walk the stone corridors of Jerusalem’s Old City as if I’ve lived there all my life? Know where I’m going like….I’ve been there before?

All I knew for most of my life was that my mom is Jewish and so that makes me Jewish. No one told me what that meant or how to Be. I had to figure that out on my own. But to fall in love with the holiest of men in the holiest of places is….unreal. Over the last 7 months it hits like tidal waves every now and then that I am getting married. Then even harder to know that I am getting married there.

Going from nothing to taking my first religious rite of passage in the only place on earth that feels like home is overwhelming. To have approval from the rabbinical court, though demeaning at times and not at all easy, is to validate that my return was not in vain. My ancestors survived for a reason.

Is it fate?

Until a bouquet arrived the other day from the one that lives 7 time zones away