My Son’s Other Parents

Last Shabbos, my son Ari went to see his other parents, Mark and Ellen Newman. After a two-hour trek by subway and train, he arrived at their Great Neck home well before sundown.  Meanwhile, the rest of the extended family, eleven in all, spent Shabbos with our niece in West Hempstead.

I first met Ellen Newman when picking up my son at her apartment after a playdate—well, not really a playdate, as Ariel and Ari were already in high school. But still. My husband waited outside in the car while I ran up to fetch him. Half an hour later, Alan called to find out what had happened to us. “Mommy just met her new best friend,” I heard Ari reply.

Indeed, I had trouble tearing myself away from Ellen’s ebullient personality and beautiful home. She is an interior decorator and had put her considerable skills to work in her own apartment. Or as Mark put it, “My wife loves color.”

That was ten years ago.

Back then, Mark Newman, his Bucharian yarmulke expressing his own love of color, regularly presided over Dungeons and Dragons sessions for their son and his buddies. My Ari was an avid participant. At 5-foot-4, Ari was one of the shorter boys in the high school class. I love the photo of him and Ariel in their shiny, blue graduation gowns—Ariel, a hulking 5-foot-10 reaching down to encircle Ari in a brotherly embrace.

Three months later, tragedy struck. Ariel died of heat stroke while hiking with his yeshiva in Israel. The Newmans lost their only child at age 18, and my son lost a dear friend.

Gradually, all the other boys in the Dungeons and Dragons circle dropped out. Ari alone remained. Although both he and Mark lead busy lives, they still manage to find time to learn Torah together. (“Ari is on fire,” Mark once reported.)

That first year after Ariel’s death, Mark and Ellen sponsored a monthly scholar-in-residence program at their shul in his memory. When it was Rabbi Jonathan Sacks’ turn, we invited ourselves and stayed at the Newmans’ wonderful “inn.” Ari was still in yeshiva in Israel.

Anticipating many future Dungeons and Dragons sessions, the Newmans had enlarged their apartment during Ariel’s senior year in high school. These days, the added space has come in handy, with Mark working from home since COVID.

Alan and I have visited the Newmans on several occasions, as when Ellen threw a Chanukah party some years ago. Nonetheless, she has made clear to us that it’s Ari she’s interested in.

“Thank you for lending us your wonderful son,” she once remarked. In other words, you’re OK, but it’s Ari we love.

Do I feel envious that our only child sometimes chooses his other parents over us? No way! I’m proud of my boy. My nephew Eli, noting Ari’s absence from our Shabbos gathering, remarked, “He’s the best thing that ever happened to them,” as if Ari were doing Mark and Ellen a favor.

But that’s not the case at all. As in any parent-child relationship, it cuts both ways. These past six months, Ari has been teaching history at Magen Avraham Yeshiva High School, a job he alternately tolerates and hates. Monday mornings are especially hard.

“I have to stay at this job for three more months,” he moaned as I drove him to work. The question, of course, is what will he do afterward?

But after Shabbos with the Newmans, he announced that he is applying for a new position, at a non-profit that advocates for Israel. He submitted his cover letter and curriculum vitae through Mark’s influential friend, but only after first sending it to Mark’s niece, a human resources manager, for polishing. Ah, the joys of having a second set of parents!

No, indeed, this is not a one-way street. Ari is not doing the Newmans a favor with his continued friendship. As in any healthy, parent-child relationship, the love and respect are mutual.

Marjorie Ordene, MD is an integrative physician and nutritionist. Her essays, short stories and poetry have been published in various magazines and anthologies including Tablet, Aish.com, The Sun, Lilith, Ami Magazine and Mishpacha Magazine.