I had some food pantry items for donation and just couldn’t bear going to one of the many church-based pantries around here. I really, really hate the hard-sell proselytizing attempts by so many of them, and I still have a really bad taste in my mouth about the time I went to such a pantry for help and was subjected to a 40 minute harangue about how evil I was and how I needed church and Jesus alternating with pressure to admit to a drug or gambling problem. Um… no, I need a job, lack of employment being my main problem at that point. Anyhow…
Someone (one of the customers at work, actually), told me that the local Jewish Federation had a pantry and would be happy to take my food donations along with things like personal hygiene items and clothing. So I boxed up the stuff and went there.
Silly me - couldn’t initially figure out why the doors were locked and a doorbell and video camera were installed. Not so much white privilege but gentile privilege. Anyhow, I must have looked harmless (I usually do) so I was buzzed in.
The people I met were very warm and welcoming and took the time to speak to me. Also invited me to come hang out with them and partake of the social activities. No conversion required. Just hey, you’re half Jewish, howdy cousin, come and be with us, you don’t have to change to be here.
A bit of contrast to my father’s family, who sat shiva on him when he married a gentile. Although even there the shunning was not universal. Still, they made it very clear we weren’t welcome. In sharp contrast to almost every other Jew I’ve encountered.
Anyhow, the notion of hanging out with these folks is very attractive, not in the least because I need a social life right now, spending too much time alone is very bad for me and while I do know people at work it’s not the same as an outside-of-work friendship. My work schedule does interfere somewhat, but it’s not insurmountable. I still have this nagging feeling of being there under false pretenses - which I assume is some leftover crap from my father’s family. I did tell them, after all, I was ethnically and not religiously Jewish.
Not entirely sure why I’m talking about this. Not entirely sure why I feel so divided about this. Part, I’m sure, is the fear of moving on after my husband’s death. Getting on with the rest of my life feels daunting at times. I know it’s impossible but I still keep wanting to turn back time to when I had my spouse beside me, moving on is yet again acknowledging he’s gone for good.