I’m so in love with my husband. What a magical, mystical journey it was to find each other. We each wandered through our metaphorical desert for more than 40 years, finally meeting a decade ago. Now, we’re about to celebrate our third wedding anniversary.
My husband, Gerard, is from Jewish, French immigrant, Holocaust survivor parents. His father and mother, Joseph and Lydia, arrived in the United States after World War II. Gerard was born in Los Angeles and grew up in the ’60s in the Fairfax District among the Orthodox rabbis at Poinsettia Park, where he worked out as a gymnast.
Gerard remembers how the rabbis would lift him to reach the high bar. One day, a rabbi showed up at Gerard’s house with a radio, which the rabbi had promised him if he mastered a trick. “This is for Gerard,” he said. It became a big part of his Jewish education, learning that the rabbis cared about him.
I grew up in the San Fernando Valley in an American-Jewish family. My parents, Richard and Lee, were born here. My Russian-Polish grandparents came to the U.S. before the Holocaust. My mother emphasized Jewish philosophy more than ritual, although lighting Shabbat candles and singing the blessing remains a favorite childhood memory.
Like Gerard’s, my formal Jewish education was spotty. We weren’t regular temple-goers, but Judaism was a defining part of my parents’ values. I have a vivid memory of my mother teaching me all the Yiddish words to “Tumbalalaika.” My father, a professional musician, gave me piano lessons.
As I grew, I yearned for the perfect someone to share my love of Judaism and a full life of Jewish celebration. After years alone, in walked Gerard. The magnetism between us was overwhelming.
We met, at John Pisano’s Guitar Night in Sherman Oaks, brought together by a friend, Larry Stensvold, and music. He heard the vibration between Gerard and me, but it was the Jewish connection that was deeper than the musical one. Meeting Gerard was like coming home to my ancient soul mate.
Early in our relationship, Gerard began asking me questions about Judaism. As an adult, I studied and learned more about Torah, Jewish practices and synagogue music. One day, Gerard asked me, “I remember there was one holiday when my Grandpa Jacques took me to shul and the Jews were dancing around with an apple on a stick. What holiday is that?”
It must have been Simchat Torah.
Gerard learned about God from his Grandpa Jacques, who told him the story of his “God of Abraham.” The Nazis were going door to door in the building where the family lived in Paris, looking for Jews. Grandpa stood in front of his family’s front door, spread his arms wide and prayed: “God of my father, God of Abraham, they won’t come in.” The Gestapo skipped their door.
With all that Gerard’s family endured in escaping the Nazis — Gerard’s mother hid in a Catholic camp; Gerard’s father, in a forest — in the U.S. they weren’t eager to focus on their Jewishness. They were struggling to raise a family in a foreign land and learn English. There were Passover seders and Chanukah candles but not a formal education or regular shul attendance.
Despite our music connection — Gerard and I both play guitar, and we teach music and play and sing together on the first Saturday of each month at sing-along night at Henri’s in Canoga Park — Gerard wanted to connect more with his Judaism. My way of relating to the traditions fit for him. I continue to teach him about home rituals. We don’t do all the prayers, but we tie a little bow around each week together with Friday night Shabbat candles, “A Woman of Valor” and the Kiddush.
When we were visiting his mother’s grave early last year, I read “A Woman of Valor.” Then, I told him that traditional Jewish husbands recite it for their wives every Friday night. “Why don’t you let me read it to you?” he asked, and he’s read it to me every week since then.
He makes me feel so loved. My girlfriends are jealous. I’ve given their husbands copies of this poem from Proverbs and suggested they honor their wives with it.
Traditions keep our Jewish marriage strong. We passed the ultimate test last year when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Gerard embraced me through treatment. He helped me become stronger and healthier than ever.
I am blessed with the most devoted, caring, loving husband. Our sharing of prayers and stories in the Torah every week connects us closer each day. My heart is bursting with the peace and joy of a Jewish woman, completely fulfilled and in love.
