The “GET”.
I got it.
Get it?
The Jewish GET!!
For those of you who are non-tribesmen (from the Cohen, Levy or Israelites tribes),it's a Jewish divorce. It's a process whereby a lovely lady, once known as a THE BRIDE, needs to request her DISMISSAL papers, in hope of finding something better out there.
The document specifies, in Hebrew, that the man, aka THE HUSBAND, will "now release, discharge and divorce the bride (on her own) so that she is PERMITTED and has authority over herself to go and marry any man she desires. ( Any man,with the exception of a Cohen gentleman…apparently I am too tarnished for a fine Cohen man. Makes me think, what should my JDATE profile state, NO COHENS allowed?)
It goes on to say that “No person may object against the NOW DIVORCED BRIDE from this day onward and she is PERMITTED (my favorite wording, if you have not already guessed) to every man." The kicker is the last line spoken by the now X-Husband stating "this shall be for YOU from me a BILL OF DISMISSAL, a letter of RELEASE and a document of ABSOLUTION, in accordance with the law of Moses and Israel."
...Moment of silence, please.
I mean, let's face there is so much to digest in this HERE document.
Where does one begin?
I am a Jewess.
That is obvious.
I am part feminist.
Conundrum indeed!
You see religion and women are a funny combo. When the woman stands on the right side of the equation, she is viewed as God’s reflection to her beloved. My face mirrors my husband’s being. Once I cross over to the DARK side, I become “the invisible woman”.
As a woman, I enter a boardroom with six religious figures, Mad Hatters I like to name them, and my x-husband. Well technically, he is not an X yet. He becomes an X when I leave the premises. How amusing. In any event,they assign me to a seat at the tail end of a U shaped boardroom table. They assume, my X and I need a chair in between us. Clearly, they have never met THE outspoken Caspian Princess. I quickly inform them that I would feel more comfortable nestled next to him then tossed by the way side, near the exit. One witness smirks. Funny thing is they still insisted that WE not approach the Mad Hatters. Should there have been acrimony, the X was privy to sitting more closely to the religious beings.
They spend the better part of the next 35 minutes, directing conversation to my X, asking his name, his Hebrew name and his nicknames. I find myself, quietly, watching the exchanges between the Mad Hatters, as they try to figure out the nuances in the letter “A” of my X-Husband. I keep thinking what is this world coming to, for six, mature, religious beings to spend an insane amount of time trying to philosophize if the letter “A” in his name is a short vowel or a long vowel.
The six religious men, then proceed to ask me my name and its spelling. Never mind, that they stumbled on my father’s name. Two Rabbis duel over the meaning of the name. One Rabbi finally states “you know like the King of Persia, Esther and Mordechai, the tombs in Iran…etc, etc. Ya, I think that's Judaism 101, where the holiday Purim began. But I digress.
My thoughts, once again, “OY”.
We are gently asked to step outside, while the scribe writes out our dismissal contracts. After an hour, we are called back inside, where I stand before my two witnesses and the Rabbi and my soon to be X-Husband. I am asked to pull up my sleeves, cup my hands, not to shake or move, while my soon to be X-Hubby sings his praises to me.
Well, praises is an understatement!! The words are VILE. The words are hurtful. The words have a way to DISMISS a 14 year commitment. The words make you wonder how these same religious beings feel that I AM CAPABLE of raising my two sons. The words HURT. Have you heard of The Gazette's new marketing stance "Words FUCKING MATTER?"
The Rabbi then instructs me to raise the contract in the air, stick it under my armpit, walk out of the room, pass a door or two in the hallway, then re-enter the boardroom as a DIVORCED woman. Sweet.
Congratulate me, I am now divorced. A relative blackberry messengered me soon after, saying “is it wrong to wish you a Mazal Tov?”
I don’t know, what do you think?
I dedicate this song to a great X-Husband. We share two beautiful kids. We care about each other's well being. Imagine that?
