I love Elisheva because besides for the obvious fact that she does her job as my therapist so supremely well, she also teaches me cool things I’d never heard of before.
A great example was when she introduced the term “dialectical thinking” to me. The word “dialectical” describes the notion that two opposing ideas can be true at the same time. Dialectics allows for a balance between acceptance and change.
My dialectical thinking came about as a result of Alana and Meir’s upcoming engagement and how that induced tremendous stress and worry to me. It was an emotion that was upsetting to me, because I love Alana. I want her to be happy, and she’s finally found someone that does that for her.
But I couldn’t help but think about what losing her in our family would mean to our future going forward after she marries. She’s played such an important part in helping us heal after Moshe’s untimely exit from this world. I wonder if she even knows the gift of just being her (and helping us in ways she maybe doesn’t know) gave us.
Well, obviously now she does.
Alana didn’t spend a lot of time single in this house. She met Meir shortly after moving in. But I could see a few things immediately: She was a naturally maternal person who took her role in my house as helping me day to day seriously. She wouldn’t oversleep or miss a bedtime and quickly enforced fun nightly routines to win Gavi and Rosie over. Although I was grappling with a lot of things in the beginning, I noticed and appreciated her dedication to my kids in big and small ways.
There were pockets of the day that she took on happily and excitedly and she gave me room to go to my room and sit or cry or write or talk. She gifted me with time to be with myself, which is a tremendous thing when faced with single parenthood of five young kids.
It amazed me how someone could seem almost excited to change someone else’s kid’s diapers or help with bath time — not exactly the Pinterest-worthy highlights of family life.
She’d sometimes want to visit friends in different states and casually offer to take Rosie for the day with her, as if it was like mailing a letter on her way out. The first time, my jaw nearly hit the floor. What single, carefree young woman volunteers to install a car seat and take a three-hour road trip with a two-year-old that isn’t hers? The answer is Alana Ruth White.
Alana is a naturally curious person and wanted to learn the things that I did in this house. She wanted to learn how to make sourdough, she assisted me in the cookie cake making, and wanted to try her hand at different things to expand her repertoire. It never seemed forced or annoying to her when I’d ask for help.
Before coming down in the morning, I’d hear her get Rosie and Rosie’s Pavlovian response to observing Alana’s early morning omelet tradition was “Lana, I want eggs … ” On some mornings, the Alexa would turn on in the kitchen and I’d come downstairs to see the kids eating breakfast while Alana and Rosie would be dancing to “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” by Whitney Houston.
There would be trampoline jumping at dusk and a true genuine excitement on her part when I’d give her a choice of different dinner options. She’d choose one and come in the house at the end of the day and say, “Oh man, it smells good in here … ” It’s those things that turned the happy back on in this house.
There were times when I was dealing with my internal struggles and just having a bad day and she’d look at me knowingly and say, “I got this. Go upstairs.”
When she went out with Meir in the beginning, she’d come home and act neutral but I could tell something was up. We met him as a family pretty early on in their relationship and because of the threat he posed as swooping in to take Alana as his, I convinced myself that I wouldn’t like him at all. I tried to disqualify him, I really did, but he ended up winning us all over in the first 30 seconds of him opening his mouth.
He slid right into our family rhythm; he sang Rosie a lullaby and put her to sleep. He sang zemiros at our table, and was an all-around perfect guest. “Ugh,” I thought, “He’s nice. This is bad.”
But I was also thrilled for them both, because I know firsthand what the struggle is like out there for singles in the frum world. I know what it’s like getting dressed, having high hopes, and getting into the car, then looking to your left, only to hope that he’d drive around the corner and drop you right back off instead of spending several hours in a hotel lobby.
I know what that disappointment feels like when you’re not given a chance, and feel like you have to fight to show how awesome you truly are to people who are undeserving of your efforts.
I was there. I felt it, I tasted it, and I experienced it. To be on the other side of that misery, and finally meet the person worthy of your love, someone you feel fortunate to have met, is a really big deal.
I don’t know why this last leg of her single journey had to take place on Barnard Avenue with us. Maybe it was her own painful knowledge of what it’s like to be raised by a single mother that prompted her to take a chance and move in with us.
The one thing I’m so thankful about the courtship that took place between Meir and Alana was the gift of time. It was the exact opposite kind of “loss” from being grocery shopping one minute and being a widow the next.
I never had time to ease into the terrifying possibility that it could happen. It just did, so suddenly, and I had to fight to not sink to the bottom of the ocean of grief surrounding us.
It feels bizarre to compare a tragedy with a simcha. But in both cases, from my perspective, I had to contend with the loss of a partner. Alana was sensitive and took things slow. She eased everyone into the idea that she’d be marrying Meir. Although we might initially feel like we’re losing her, maybe in reality we’ll just be gaining another awesome person in our lives who sings really nicely and compliments me on my food.
Love is a funny thing. Because oftentimes you think you’re the one benefiting but the person you’re loving feels the same way. It’s give and take in the most selfless way.
Alana didn’t know us but she took a chance and ended up becoming close to us to the point where she considered us more than just a temporary post. More than just a place to live before marrying the man she loves.
Love and loss are inherently dialectic. To love is to give a part of your heart to another person. It’s exhilarating and terrifying and so, so vulnerable. We loved Moshe and we always will. We’ve grown to love Alana and that won’t change either.
Dialectics replace “but” with “and”:
I’m so sad that Alana’s leaving AND so happy about why she’s leaving. She loves us and is a part of our family AND she is ready and excited to start her own family.
I loved Moshe and miss him and I always will AND I hope to find new love again.
The past and the future can create complexity, a paradoxical dialectic that allows us to hold space for multiple and diverse feelings and experiences.
Malkie’s husband, Moshe, a’h, passed away at the age of 40. She has been sharing her thoughts and emotions with readers on her Instagram page @Kissthekoshercook. We are privileged to share her writings and reflections with our readership. May Moshe’s memory be a blessing for Malkie and her beautiful family.
