When Bish and I got married (back in the year dot) we weren’t very happy about the idea of playing into the hands of the ultra-orthodox by being married by the Rabbinate. We played with the idea of going to Cyprus or Britain for a civil wedding. In the end we went ahead with the whole orthodox shaboom, so as not to do our parents out of the pleasure of a wedding celebration with all their friends and family. Furthermore, a civil marriage would have somewhat complicated the issue of taking out the (very small but still necessary) state-sponsored mortgage we were entitled to (not a lot - we would have got it, it would just have taken longer to organize and we didn’t have time, for various technical reasons). The fact that we really couldn’t afford any trips abroad also helped the decision. I’m glad we did go ahead with an orthodox Jewish wedding, although I still don’t appreciate not having had a choice.
In those days, people were starting to be aware of the idea of a monetary relations agreement between couples (whether married or in a long term relationship). I’m not sure if I’ve translated the term correctly. In Hebrew it’s Heskem Yahasei Mamon. Bish and I had read about this a few months before the wedding and decided it would be a good idea. Of course, being us, we forgot about it and remembered three days before the night (Weddings in Israel are usually at night, preferably on a Tuesday which is deemed a lucky day because during the seven days of creation God looked at his work every day and saw it was good. On Tuesday this happened not once but twice). So we spent the three days running up to the wedding sitting with our lawyer planning our divorce. Down to the tiniest of details. This was not very pleasant (What am I talking about? It was pure hell.), but at least we knew where we stood.
Last night I packed evacuation bags for us all, according to the Home Front Command booklet (Do I really have to link to this again?). It felt very much the same as planning our divorce all those years ago. Trying to visualize the worst so as to be prepared, hoping the preparations would not have to be utilized.
My mother’s illness and death have taught me you can’t ever really prepare for the worst.
I spent most of the evening searching, unsuccessfully, for Bish’s inoculation booklet. Do you think I’m being a bit obsessive?
Bish prepared the "security room" with plastic sheeting for sealing (It's quite an old building by Israeli standards - today built-in sealing is part of the requirements).
Monday, March 17, 2003