Soup pots, suburbs, perspective.

Two years ago tonight – first night of Chanukah – we got engaged over a soup pot, and two years later – today – we signed a contract to move out to the suburbs.

The Tzur Hadassah deal is done: we are moving to a new apartment in February, way out there past the city of Jerusalem. Moving to morning commutes, quiet roads and conversations outside a trailor-shul at Shabbat morning kiddushes.

It’s nearly three years since I arrived and two years+ since my relationship with my now-husband began and the big thorn in the aliyah side is the lack of community in these here parts. It’s probably city life everywhere, but for us it’s enough. I’m looking forward to being a part of something bigger.

They say that first there is your self, then your mate and then the people all around you. I don’t think you pass from one level to the next, graduating and never looking back, but it does take experience to reach new levels. I think we’re there.

Of course, moving to the suburbs holds certain connotations: bigger homes, maturity, kids. And, of course, I couldn’t give a crap what people think or guess. For now, I’m looking forward to a 2-floor apartment, living next to a forest and the chance at a car.

Three years isn’t a long time and I’ve got a lot more to explore.





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