Question:

I got a call from my sister-in-law, who had a wonderful idea for my son. She works with the girl at Bais Yaakov and has gotten to know her well. I did some research on the girl and am very impressed by what I hear. I called our shadchan to ask her opinion about the girl’s qualities and whether she thinks the shidduch is appropriate. The shadchan enthusiastically replied that she thinks it is a fantastic idea and she'd be happy to redt it!

Now I am in a pickle. On one hand, my sister-in-law knows both the girl and my son very well, so it may be more beneficial for her to handle the shidduch. The girl will trust her, and so we will get more honest feedback after dates. My son will also feel comfortable talking openly to his aunt.

On the other hand, we have been dealing with this shadchan for a long time. She made the shidduch for one of our children and has helped us with our other children. I value my relationship with her. She also has years of experience while my sister-in-law has never redt a shidduch. Of course, my relationship with my sister-in-law is very important as well. Do I owe it to her to let her handle the shidduch because it was originally her idea? How do I handle this delicate situation?

 Principal:

(Walks to the front. Smiles briefly. Speaks firmly.)

Good morning, everyone. Welcome all - veteran staff and new teachers. Before we begin – yes, I really mean this – I’ll be walking around to collect your cell phones. 

(Walks around holding a basket and waits for each teacher to drop in their cell phone.)

Please hold them up now. Thank you. Drop them right here in this basket. It’s not that I don’t trust you – it’s just that it can be so tempting to check your phone or send a quick text, and for the next little while, I need your full attention.

Thank you. Now, instead of the usual welcoming, we’re going to do a little role playing. Just relax. The stage will be all too familiar very quickly. You are seated in the classroom – but not in the front row. You are looking at your new teacher. For the past months, you were in camp or at the beach. You stayed up late and got up late, hung out with friends, and never opened a book. Now, you are gazing, a bit bleary eyed, at the teacher and wondering what this class will be like.

We’ve all heard about the recent initiative from our rabbanim aimed at addressing the imbalance in the number of boys and girls seeking shidduchim. The suggestion is for boys to begin dating earlier, while girls would wait until a year after returning from seminary to start dating.

As with many things, Baltimore may be a bit “late to the party” – or perhaps we’re simply not looking for an invitation at all. For now, no such initiative has been enacted by our local rabbanim. Still, if it eventually becomes a psak or if enough people adopt it, it will certainly affect our children in Baltimore.

With that in mind, we reached out to a cross-section of our community – shadchanim, parents who have been through the process, parents just starting out, and singles themselves. We asked them:

Dear Readers,

A heartfelt thank you to all who sent in your thoughtful, creative, and sometimes surprising suggestions for navigating retirement – or, as I like to call it, “The Big What’s-Next.” Your ideas have been inspiring and insightful.

That said, I have to confess I was a tiny bit disappointed that I only heard from those whom I can only describe as “retirement overachievers.” You know who you are. You’ve mastered the art of meaningful days and purposeful living, and while I’m genuinely happy for you, it’s made this column a bit one-sided. Where are my fellow worriers? The ones who wonder if spending money instead of making it counts as a hobby? (Full disclosure: My husband wonders this, too, every summer!)

For now, I’m still working – at least as long as my bosses keep saying yes. I’m filing away your wisdom for future reference (with the same efficiency I use for lesson plans and recipes). And to be brutally honest, even summer vacation (yes, I’m a teacher) sometimes feels a little too long and aimless. That’s really the heart of my retirement hesitation: What will I do with all that time?

Before I officially wrap up this series, I’m sharing the last two letters I received – each one offering a fresh and meaningful take on retirement. One even made me think, “Hmm, maybe I’ll sign up… right after I finish writing this!”

Dear Rochelle,

I am disturbed by the rites of the engagement period which include more and more expensive presents to the chassan and the kallah. This puts a lot of pressure on the families who do not have the money and do not want to go into debt but do not want their chassan or kallah to get less than everyone else. I think our community should encourage the chassanim and kallos themselves to protest this trend and tell their families that they do not need so many expensive presents. They are the only ones who can do this honestly. 

Of course, this will not solve everyone’s problem, but it will solve the problem of each family that participates in such an initiative. And once it becomes more common, we can start a revolution and take the pressure off the families of newly engaged couples. What do you think? 

Contemplating a Chasana

More Readers Respond

So, dear readers, let me set the record straight – right here and now: Yes, I am thinking about retiring. But not tomorrow. Not next week. Not even next month. Just… eventually. Someday. In the distant land of “the Future.”

You’d be surprised at how many people have asked me if I’m retiring since I first wrote an article in the Where What When two months ago. They ask at weddings, in 7-Mile Market, even in the school hallway – always with the same wide-eyed question: “Are you really retiring?”

Well, of course I am. Eventually. I mean, doesn’t everyone retire at some point? That brings me to the purpose of this column: to explore what you all think about retirement. I’m especially interested in hearing from those still in the “thinking about it,” “wondering if I should,” or “silently panicking” phase.

Just this past Shabbos, I was sitting outside with my beloved Shabbos Afternoon Shmooze Group, where we sit and try to solve the world’s problems between Mincha and shalosh seudos. And the topic came up. All four of us still work. All four of us still claim to “like” our jobs. And – most importantly – none of us has been gently nudged toward the exit.

There’s an eight-year age gap among us, yet we share a deep sense of friendship, commonality, and all feel pretty vital and purposeful in our professions. Are we slightly delusional? Maybe. But you’d have to ask our coworkers – assuming they’re not secretly pondering the same questions!

My friend Judy put it best: “I’m working till I drop!” We all just nodded in silent agreement, checking our watches to see if it was time to head home and set up shalosh seudos.

So, in the spirit of research (and procrastination), I continue with this column. I have three interesting letters to share with you, again, from people who are happily retired.