Northwest Jewish Seniors

The Jewish capacity for love

By Erin Pike, Special to the Jewish Sound

Note: This story complements Anne Boher’s story Our bridge across the generations.

Love has been on my mind.

Exactly one year ago I was in Israel, falling in love with its natural beauty and powerful spiritual energy. It was no accident that I left the States single, and returned ready for love. I knew after that trip (my first time, on Birthright) that my heart had grown. I could feel it stretch throughout the 10-day journey, expanding uncomfortably, growing pains in the slow heat of a desert. The trip, though brief, had challenged me. It forced me to truly understand how there are parts of people, parts of a place, that are flawed and imperfect and yet I could still experience love within the crevices of those imperfections.

Ahava
The Ahava sculpture in Israel — “love” in Hebrew.

Of course, I knew that concept already. I just had not lived it yet. So I stepped off the plane at Sea-Tac and into my first serious relationship. He was the only partner I had been with where our friendship felt as promising as our mutual attraction for one another. I understood that to be the best kind of love possible: Two pals with an inside joke, sharing grins across the table.

“I love you,” I said one day.

Then another day not long after that, there was a knock on my front door. “I’m moving on,” he said.

After he walked away, I felt vacant, I felt nothing. I wanted to weep but found it difficult. I was frozen in a state of confusion and shock. But as summer approached, my heart began to thaw, and I could finally feel and love again.

I had an incredible summer, full of healing. So when I heard that Jconnect was hosting a Tu B’Av event, where young couples would join older couples at The Summit on First Hill to discuss love, I couldn’t wait to partake.

As I sipped a glass of wine in the library of the Summit, I found myself oddly nervous. There were couples in the room that had been together 23 years, 45 years, even 65 years. It was like being in a room full of great works of art, and feeling worried that I wouldn’t have time to take them all in. A microphone was passed around the circle of individuals, many Summit residents touted half-joking advice like the importance of “Yes, dear!” and “never buy anything on credit!”

But as young couples began to mingle and converse one-on-one with the older couples, serious conversations emerged about the nature of togetherness (“Kids don’t give it enough time… you gotta work at it”) and the critical sense of community (“What a comfortable feeling to be with your own people [at the Summit] in this stage of life”). Soon, many of the topics had progressed from relationships and marriage to broader themes of Jewish identity and culture. One resident spoke to members of Jconnect about living in Israel, and his frustration regarding the conflicts between denominations within Judaism.

A few couples also shared stories of serious world events affecting their lives: Major earthquakes, evacuations, war, traveling by boat and the luck of being in the right one. With their clarity and perspective, I had to wonder — how much is our ability to love strengthened by hardship? Is it possible that many of my Jewish peers and I have encountered difficulty in love because there is a lack of cultural urgency in our generation?

I am reminded of a friend’s observation from a Shabbat service. It was her first time in a synagogue and she remarked on how interesting it was that we took time in an otherwise joyous celebration to honor relatives and community members who were no longer with us. The tradition — celebrating life while also acknowledging death — resonated with her. It was the sense that our lives do not exist forever, but while we’re alive we must live fully.

Living life fully includes expressing and receiving love fully. As the residents of The Summit shared their insights on Tu B’Av, love for your partner, love for your people, and love for your community are all integral to sustaining a healthy heart well into your golden years.