That’s what he called them. \u00a0“The happiest couple in America.” \u00a0And as soon as the words were out of his mouth, the spell was broken and she was gone.<\/p>\n
I mean, where do you go from there?<\/p>\n
Repeat cycle<\/em>? \u00a0Which would mean more of the same. \u00a0And if there was more of the same, would that still be happiest-couple-in-America or would that be just plain being stuck again?<\/p>\n Renewal<\/em>? \u00a0This would be constantly reinventing. \u00a0Possibly looking for bigger and better ways of being. \u00a0Thrill junkies, maybe. \u00a0Working<\/em> at it \u2014 and that didn’t sound like fun.<\/p>\n She’d been happy with the struggle. \u00a0The process. \u00a0Discovery. \u00a0Working towards.<\/p>\n But happiest-couple-in-America wasn’t what she’d had in mind. \u00a0It felt so static. Besides, what did he know about it? \u00a0He wasn’t even an American.<\/p>\n This is the downside of paradise. \u00a0It’s what everybody wants, apparently, but me. What I want is the struggling-towards. \u00a0I like the work. \u00a0Finished products are just a bit of a bore…<\/p>\n Poseidon was his name. \u00a0And this is not a kaddish for him, but for them. For the happiest-couple-in-America. \u00a0The door had opened. \u00a0And with those words, the door slammed shut. \u00a0Damn near broke everything else beside it too. \u00a0I’m afraid it pissed him off, her letting it go that way, but what else could she do?<\/p>\n Acceptance<\/em>? \u00a0Yes. \u00a0Gloating. That’s what he was doing. Hubris. \u00a0It made her ill. Should you\u00a0not<\/em> work on it because it’s perfect and everybody knows it. \u00a0Now that way lies the road to chaos, that’s for sure. \u00a0But there it is, we’re-so-well-suited. \u00a0We-match. \u00a0Taking it for granted. \u00a0No, no, no, no. That’s not the answer.<\/p>\n If I can write a kaddish for Eichmann, and one for Osama bin Laden too, then why not a kaddish for the happiest couple in America? \u00a0Don’t they deserve a kaddish too?<\/p>\n They were in bed when he said it. \u00a0It was pouring outside, and the forest smelled heavenly. \u00a0They’d brought every possible distraction to keep her from running. \u00a0Games. Drugs. Toys. Books. And they weren’t even camped out this time. \u00a0No, it was a cabin overlooking the river. \u00a0They’d come really really prepared this time. \u00a0Because stranding him at Big Sur in the middle of the night was just a little too much to put up with. \u00a0They were going to try it just one more time. \u00a0And it worked.<\/p>\n One of those perfect moments when she actually got just exactly what she wanted. \u00a0And he had to label it. Happiest-couple-in-America. And where do you go from there?<\/p>\n And she was trapped. \u00a0She was ready to run.<\/p>\n It’s not like they did anything important together. \u00a0It’s not like their kids belonged to each other, although sometimes it felt that way. \u00a0His daughters had taught her daughter to swim like a mermaid. \u00a0Another precious moment.<\/p>\n They did push-hands together up in the meadow. \u00a0Chi-gung and swordwork at the other end of the lake. \u00a0They moved energy together. They dreamed together.<\/p>\n It wasn’t enough for her.<\/p>\n Such a materialist! \u00a0She wanted a product I guess.<\/p>\n She wanted not to be betrayed, actually, that’s not so much to ask.<\/p>\n But call it, just call it happiest-couple-in-America, and you take it for granted you can do anything. \u00a0You play with the rules. You bend them till they break. \u00a0And then laugh and say but I love you, so it shouldn’t matter.<\/p>\n She fired him.<\/p>\n But it took her years to do it. \u00a0She fired him when at last she’d gotten tired of all the indiscretions. \u00a0Poseidon’s a god, after all. He doesn’t really do accountability too well.<\/p>\n The last straw was exactly that. \u00a0One last straw. \u00a0The yawning. \u00a0Every time she spoke, pretty much. \u00a0Any time anyone<\/em> spoke but him. \u00a0Very disrespectful. Not listening. \u00a0Not paying attention. The gods, they do that. And with a different excuse every single time. \u00a0For a therapist, you’d think he could see the pattern.<\/p>\n He wrote a crappy book. \u00a0She couldn’t forgive that. \u00a0He cut corners on everything. \u00a0Just wanted to make his fortune. \u00a0Be on Oprah. \u00a0He thought any horseshit he put out there would be a best seller. \u00a0He went from scheme to scheme looking for his ticket to riches and retirement. \u00a0Funny, for a man who didn’t work. She had lots of complaints about stuff like this. \u00a0But most of all, she hated the yawning. Someone tells him a dream in dream group. \u00a0And he yawns.<\/em> It’s unprofessional.<\/p>\n She encoupled elsewhere, and there it was again: \u00a0Happiest-couple-in-America. \u00a0Just like that. \u00a0But this time she was ready. This one had an expiration date right from the beginning. So, okay, no problem, right? \u00a0Poseidon, god that he was, just couldn’t stand it. \u00a0He had to take it down. If he couldn’t have that happiness, well no one else could either.<\/p>\n She decided that happiest-couple-in-America was surely the worst curse ever to be put on a relationship. \u00a0Beware labeling those ecstatic moments \u2014 or take them for what they really are, just fleeting glimpses of a paradise that does not linger.<\/p>\n Never give your heart away. \u00a0You may never get it back again. \u00a0And then where are you? Either that, or give your heart away repeatedly. Expect nothing more than those lovely moments. \u00a0Allow yourself to be surprised by whatever comes.<\/p>\n She made rules. \u00a0She put up magical protection against such gods as these. \u00a0But forces of nature are a little tough to control, don’t you think? \u00a0Poseidon laughs. \u00a0He shrugs away her protests. \u00a0He doesn’t take no for an answer. \u00a0He thinks the door is always open. \u00a0Gods are like that. \u00a0He threatens tidal waves … \u00a0He makes a fuss. \u00a0He wants his happiest-couple-in-America. He has a tantrum. \u00a0Tsunamis! He’s Poseidon.<\/p>\n Fleeting moments. \u00a0She’s okay with that. \u00a0Hard work, that works too. \u00a0Having a good day. \u00a0Or maybe just an hour. She thinks it rude to ask for more than that. Sun going down red and yellow on the horizon, and the tide is out. \u00a0Dayenu<\/em>. Climbing the cliffs, walking a beach that doesn’t claim to be spectacular. \u00a0Keep it modest. \u00a0This is not paradise. This is a small fragment of a moment. Just don’t let those terrible words ever ever ever cross your prefrontal cortex. They’ll disable your hard drive, wreak havoc with your executive functions, and poof, your moment’s gone.<\/p>\n Happiest-couple-in-America is a misnomer. \u00a0Stick to wondrous fleeting moments. \u00a0They lead to deep appreciation of what we’ve got right now. \u00a0No attachment, no grasping, no desire for something more or better. \u00a0The door’s wide open \u2014 neither looking back nor forward toward anything at all. \u00a0Here we are \u2014 on the threshold \u2014 just being. \u00a0Just doing. \u00a0This very moment.<\/p>\n Or maybe there is no door.<\/p>\n Maybe happiest-couple-in-America is just plain too daunting for Malkah. \u00a0She’s was raised for simpler stuff. \u00a0Just that sunset. Just the gurgling of the river. Walking the path, hand in hand, one foot in front of the other. Dogs leaping for joy. \u00a0Surely, that’s enough. It’s just got to be enough.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" That’s what he called them. \u00a0“The happiest couple in America.” \u00a0And as soon as the words were out of his mouth, the spell was broken and she was gone. I mean, where do you go from there? Repeat cycle? \u00a0Which would mean more of the same. \u00a0And if there was more of the same, would…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[250,216],"tags":[52,57,334],"class_list":["post-3107","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-essays","category-kaddish-in-two-part-harmony","tag-death-and-dying","tag-grief","tag-malkah"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3107","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3107"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3107\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3110,"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3107\/revisions\/3110"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3107"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3107"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/beitmalkhut.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3107"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}