Go in His Way

Women stop me in shul and ask how I’m spending my retirement.

“I’m finally getting around to taking care of my house,” I answer, “it’s been neglected for thirty years; that’s still work; I just don’t get paid for it.”

I’ve disappointed them. They were hoping I would say something inspiring or enlightening and move on to the next person. 

Truth be told, I’m working harder now than when I counseled patients four days a week, but I’m enjoying it more, now that I work from the hushed quiet of my dining room table.

My most recent project was painting the guest bathroom. I envisioned the walls painted in warm, delicate hues reminiscent of our spectacular sunsets. I told Pinky I wanted to accompany him to the home improvement center to pick out the colors.

“I’m going alone,” he answered. “I want to be in-and-out.”

“No problem.”

Pinky’s a great guy, but he’s also a Kohen and has his mishigas. For instance, if he’s washing dishes, he’ll leave some dirty ones in the sink. When he cooks, he doesn’t bother wiping down the counter once he’s through. 

“Why do you leave the last dish in the sink, Pinky?”

“Because of the destruction of the Bais Hamikdash.”

“What!?”

“Yes, you always leave something unfinished. That’s why when you remodel your home, you leave a corner untouched, it’s all to commemorate the Destruction. Everybody knows that.”

“—But the dishes, Pinky, have you ever asked a rabbi about this?”

“I don’t have to. That’s the rule.”

Whatever.  I didn’t want to make a fuss. Instead, I went to the gym where I cycled off calories, rowed my heart rate to dizzying heights, lifted weights, and lowered my cholesterol.

When I returned home, I found to my horror that Pinky hadn’t painted the bath in the shimmering orange and soothing blue I’d imagined, but rather in the bright and vivid orange and blue of the New York Mets!

“Wait until it dries,” he pleaded, “the colors will soften.”

The paint dried, but the colors remained the same.

“I’ll fix it,” he assured me, and he went back to the store, returning with white paint.

“It’s going to be orange with white trim, the same colors as Home Depot, and I’m going to hang my grandfather's tools on the wall. It’ll be like an old hardware store. You’re gonna love it.”

Oy!

Now I’m redoing the kitchen. They knocked out the cabinets, and the room is gigantic. Pinky said, “Forget about redoing the kitchen, this room is huge; let’s put a ping pong table in here! We can eat at the table, the men on one side of the net and the women on the other—very tznius, and play ping-pong after bentching.”

“But where will we cook?”

“In the guest bathroom, we’ll convert it.”

I said a silent prayer, beseeching Hashem to bring us the Mashiach and send Pinky to the Bais HaMikdash, where he would keep busy offering sacrifices and cleaning up the blood. Then I counted to ten and asked, “Don’t we need that bathroom?”

“Who needs two bathrooms? Entire families used to live in one room. Trust me, it will be fine.”

     Now, we cook in the old bathroom, and eat, and play ping pong in the old kitchen. (I still work at the dining room table.) My next project is replacing the windows and doors. I feel vulnerable living in a place with openings as old as me—HA!

I showed Pinky the different style doors and asked him what he liked, and he said they would all make our house look like an office, not a home. I wanted to tell him our house looks like a cross between a hardware store and a recreation center, but I held my tongue.

We Jews have an old saying about making plans and G-d laughing. Since Hashem finds humor in almost everything we do, we should strive to emulate Him and view ourselves with a smile. After all, we’re made in His image.

You want enlightenment? I’ll give you some enlightenment. Try your best, apply yourself wholeheartedly, and do your due diligence. Yeah, sure, things don’t always go as planned, but you can still dream. So dream big. Dream in big bright bouquets of vivid technicolor or shimmering, soothing colors—but dream, Dream, DREAM! and enjoy everything!

Shira Shirim resides in Arizona with her husband, two golden retrievers named Fauna and Flora, and a cockatiel. She enjoys competitive dog grooming, soap carving, and creative writing in her spare time. You can contact Shira at shirashirim408@gmail.com