Prayer Shawl Is A Fond Reminder of Wedding and Family
Over the centuries, a custom evolved in the Jewish Community to use a prayer shawl (Talis) as a wedding canopy (Chupa). It is frequently a gift from the bride to the groom. When he wears it, the Tzitzis (representing Taryag Mitzvos) remind him that he is bound to his bride, to the exclusion of all other women. Similarly, the bride’s ring symbolizes that she is bound to her husband, to the exclusion of all other men. I attached my Shabbos Talis to the ceiling of our Chupa, knowing that the Sabbath would provide an opportune time for connection with family and tradition, just like our wedding did. During our 34 years of marriage, I noticed my Talis became bit tattered and yellowed. In today’s consumer culture I would likely I go out and purchase the latest model and discard the old one. But that won’t happen because I like the warmth of the real article.
The daily blessing on the Talis refers to protection and elevation. Until our wedding, it was my parents who were responsible to protect and elevate me; after that it would be my wife. My Talis surrounds me with plentifulmemories. It reminds me of who stood under our canopy and witnessed the commitment that we both undertook, especially my parents (of blessed memory) and the decades of watching their marriage.
My parents weren’t keen on saying I love you in public to each other. But I remember them demonstrating it in numerous simple ways. The daily hello/goodbye kiss was important, as was the good-morningand good-night kiss.
Dad checked mom’s car daily: tires, oil, and wiper fluid; everything had to be safe. Mom would buy Dad albums of opera and symphonies and tape it so he could listen to them in his car. I marveled at how, despite their different upbringings, they enjoyed so many activities together. Dadwas a mechanical engineerand he loved skiing, boating, and raising orchids. Mom, a teacher and pianist, was raised in the Midwest surrounded by social activism and fine arts. Opera night in South Florida was sacred time that my parents enjoyed together in their front row seats.
Mom was more emotional; Dad was physical. She loved to read; he loved to build and fix. Only after I was married, did I realize that their marriage didn’t last despite their differences; rather it thrived because of them.
Concerning parenting skills, they were of one mind. And that consistency has been a model for how my wife and I raise our 4 children. When I broke a rule and needed to be disciplined, I would receive a deep-voiced reprimand from my father, “Your mother and I do not approve of your behavior.”
As a child, I was sad when my close friend and his mother left their beautiful house on my block and moved into the tall apartment building on Parkview Point. That’s when I first heard the “D” word. It was the mid sixties and the divorce rates in the United States began to soar. I wondered how a family problem or argument could be so relentless that parents would actuallydivorce. Then came“the night of the flying dishes”.
My father decided to help his close friend Milton, in his run for Councilman of Miami Beach. For three weeks, he never came home until after midnight when everyone was asleep. Our family dinners continued, but it was only Mom and her boys; we hardly eversaw Dad. It’s interesting that my parents knew the importance of the family dinner ritual way back then. But, my mother was fed up. She could not endure raising three sons by herself and so things got nasty.
One night we boys awoke to the sound of Mom smashing dishes and screaming at Dad. My father convinced her to stop her tantrum and promised to hastily resign from Milton’s political campaign. Our house was quiet again, although in a state of disarray.
I couldn’t sleep that night because I assumed the “D” word was next and we would be moving to Parkview Point. But the next morning, Dad brought Mom coffee and checked the fluids in her car. He took his morning bike ride with his best friend Milton and resigned from his campaign. He apologized to Mom, kissed her goodbye, and went to work. That’s the day I learned what forgiveness means in a marriage.
These are the warm memories that envelop me as I wear the Talis that was also our Chupa. Five years ago, one of the fringes of my Talis tore off by mistake, which rendered it unsuitable for use during prayer. I could have disposed of it in the proper fashion but I came to realize that when something precious breaks you don’t toss it, you fix it. That’s another lesson my Talis taught me about marriage.
Dr. AlanSinger is the author of Creating Your Perfect Family Size: How to Make an Informed Decision About Having a Baby, a Marriage and Family Therapist in Highland Park, N.J.and aparenting columnist forMyCentralJersey.com. Contact him via his website www.FamilyThinking.com