Michael and I got all dressed up (ok, he was in his funeral suit pants and a white shirt and tie, I was in my funeral dress & shoes) and went to shul this morning for a bar mitzvah. We had to duck out early because he had to be at work (something I felt crappy about because it's Shabbat and it's a frum-orthodox congregation).

The Rabbi shook his hand once he went inside (men & women are separated) and gave him a tallis (they keep a stack in the back for those who didn't bring their own/don't have them) a siddur and found another member to help him along the service.

Michael said he had to admit, he felt good in there.

I said we weren't doing it every weekend. I just can't. He said no, he didn't want to, he had no clue what was going on, it was just nice.

I agreed. The service is very different from the Saturday morning services I grew up with. I am totally lost in there myself, with the exception of the "group" prayers.

So I am going to buy him his own tallis so he isn't wearing one a zillion other men have worn, because we'll be there often enough to merit it (we will have a ton of brit milah and b'nai mitzvot and the like to attend... we have another next weekend).

I had a half dozen people tell me I reminded them of mom. One told me how strong she was. I was talking to Erin (Dorian's friends mom) the other week and explained... I don't go to shul because it's a family thing for me, and I don't have any family left to go with (my dad adamantly does not go of his own accord... he will go if invited by friends and he knows he is expected to show, you know?) so I just don't. I am not an avid Jew. I don't like standing around, separated from my husband, from 9 to 1 praying. Not my thing.

But it was nice walking in with Michael today.

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