My First Christmas Tree, Christians and Jews, A Pregnancy Scare, a Stalker, and a Partridge in a Pear Tree

This latest entry is in essence a sequel to the last one as it hits upon several points related in that blog. As the title indicates, it has been an eventful few weeks. As part of my self-directed therapy, I am putting my thoughts down in digital form for friends and strangers alike to read. Like what you are reading right now if you care to listen.

OK – the easy part first. Me and my two daughters have gotten our first Christmas tree! This has become a rite of passage among exJWs as the trees are looked upon as pagan and even demonized. This decision wasn’t as easy as it might have been for some as I am currently in an identity crisis as to who I really am. My mother comes from a Ukrainian Jewish family and my father comes from a Russian Orthodox family. Most of my father’s family lives in the US while most of my mother’s family emigrated (or made “aliyah”) to Israel.

And I get to be raised as a Jehovah’s Witness! My luck let me tell you!

My mother is a fine example of a woman with an identity crisis.  She is still a JW, but before studying had little experience or knowledge of Christianity. Her only connection to it is through the religion and my father, who was a JW longer than she was. She identifies though as ethnically Jewish, if not religiously.  I find this to be a huge part of why my mother is chronically depressed. She does have an identity and based upon her comments to me in private, strongly identifies with this. But since she is a JW, she stifles and cannot express this openly. She once made a comment at a JW meeting that alluded to Jesus celebrating Hanukkah. John 10:22 describes Jesus as being present for the “Festival of Dedication” and preaching at the temple. This festival is known as Hanukkah, though the account in John does not mention this word. The JW argument (and I assume other sects who want to disassociate Jesus with Judaism) is that nothing is made of him actually celebrating. I’m not here to argue this point either way.

The elder who took her aside to correct her made this point and her response was uncharacteristic of her personality due to her firmness in belief. If we can infer that birthdays are not to be celebrated due to two deaths, then we can likewise infer that Jesus was in Jerusalem to celebrate Hanukkah. It was an excellent point, but the elder talked right over her as she pleaded her case.

It was a silly argument. If he celebrated it, does it matter? He did in fact celebrate Passover, which JWs and other Christian sects do not. Also, I don’t see any admonition from Jesus to not celebrate Jewish holidays as he had ample opportunities to do so. But he did not. I digress.

Halachic law dictates that true Jewish lineage is from the maternal line. It’s one of the many reasons why converting to Judaism is so difficult. So, does that make me Jewish? If I wanted to profess faith, I would not have a problem in that regard. So, should I purchase myself a menorah? My background is Christian, or whatever version JWs qualify as. Living in a predominately Christian country in what some would term as the Bible Belt, this is what I know. Purchasing a menorah and professing a faith I know little about is a bit sketchy.

So, I decided to get a Christmas tree. We all know and are likely tired of the reasoning behind this. The trees have nothing to do with Christ but more to do with Nordic pagan traditions. But the meaning is no longer there. Just because someone puts a tree in their home and decorates it in the Christmas style, doesn’t mean they are worshipping a Nordic god.

The girls were a bit shocked despite my preparations in advance. It was an out of body experience for someone who has never decorated a Christmas tree before to field questions as to the why. The star at the top? The star of Bethlehem? But wasn’t that star Satan’s? It’s only a legend, sweetie. We don’t know whose star that was or the significance, but… doesn’t it look pretty? My youngest even made some ornaments in pre-school which were helpful. My older daughter who has had some exposure to the Caleb and Sophia cartoons was more circumspect. Work in progress, what can I say? This lousy tradition of no Christmas which was begun by a vile man himself (JF Rutherford) needs to end. So, it ended this year with mixed results.

Now the sons of Eli were worthless men. They did not know respect for boundaries. Nor did they have any desires other than what made themselves happy. I met one of the sons of Eli at the dealership I work at one Saturday. He came rolling in with a nice Cadillac to trade in for a 2024 Buick Enclave. He wore Ray Bans that fit his face just perfectly and was the right mix of Southern and metro sexual. He knew what he wanted and during his negotiations for the car he kept hitting me up for conversation. First, I was tasked with getting him water which he gladly accepted with a million-dollar smile. Playing the proper role, I did not blush, nor did I make too much eye contact.

This son of Eli had a knack for timing though. As I made my way to my hopelessly beat up car late that afternoon here pulls up the Enclave complete with the stickers still gracing it. Embarrassed I started up the car and tried to ignore the scene as it unfolded. As the belts screeched here was this stranger at my window making a polite knock to roll the window down. I took in a deep breath and complied. I wasn’t in the mood for bullshit, and he was well tuned into reading me. Rodion Romanovich Raskolnikov. That’s it, that’s what he said. I should hide my copy of Crime and Punishment in my drawer next time. Still, he reads Dostoyevsky?

Everything else was a blur from that point on, but I do remember waking up in the same bed as him. Wow. That was fast and quite whorish of you, Madison. I reckon that is fair, but I have another piece of information for you. That was the first man I was intimate with besides my still-JW husband. Making up for lost time? Not really, I still don’t even know what I was thinking. He smiled and reached for his vape, but my frown told him something that needn’t be said. My nerves were rattled, and I was shaking inside. What still remained of my JW buttons were going off like Chernobyl after the blast.

“Not great – not terrible” – Anatoly Dyatlov – station manager at Reactor 4 on the HBO series Chernobyl.

Did I say that out loud? Ugh well anyway. I declined his invite for “brunch” (who eats brunch?) and said I needed to get the girls. White lie – their father was dropping them off in several hours. Just needed him out so I could process all this. Call me later and all that – I don’t know why exactly I was repulsed by him. It wasn’t really regret, though I felt that I just laid my cards on the table for everyone to see. Single mother of two driving a beat-up Malibu, should be an easy one. First thing was to get into the shower and wash all this evidence off. My place got a good cleaning too not that it was that dirty. Almost like I was hiding any further evidence of the encounter. What am I doing?

Two days went by, and I’m guessing the son of Eli thought this was a suitable interim period. “Hey gorgeous been thinking of u”. He lost me at gorgeous. Eventually I stirred up the nerve to text back and he was pleasant enough. Didn’t immediately hit me up for a second round but was clear he’d like to see me again. To make a long story short, I did see him again at a proper date, but I made sure it was only dinner. His reaction to this should point me in the right direction as to where to go. And it did. He was pushy and I had to cut him short. I began to realize that he was the non-JW version of my ex-husband. Womanizer and charmer, always quick to talk his way in and out of something. Once I got that in my head, it was it.

How do you let a guy know a minor fling was over? There’s no rules, just a collection of experiences which I had none. Ignoring texts didn’t work in this case. His call to make sure I was “OK” was answered and I wasn’t feeling it or him. I felt that I had a “type” and I hated myself for it. So, I waited for the invite I could turn down and explain why. Of course, he took it in stride, like he had other prospects and possibilities. Alright, go seek them out then.

Having two children already gives a woman a blueprint to how her body feels when a particular process is unfolding. I started to feel those feelings weeks after the encounter. Fuck. This isn’t good. All sorts of flashes of what could, should or possibly happen erupt in waves of emotions. I was out of it and called off work for three days. It was canned food and Mac and Cheese time, and that’s coming from someone who knew how to cook.

“The other disciples therefore said unto him, We have seen the Lord! But he said to them, ‘Except I shall see in His hands the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into His side, I will not believe’”

The store-bought test(s) came back negative, but this Doubting Thomas wanted (demanded) further proof. Thus, a trip to the clinic was in order. In another town where I knew not a soul of course. Medical Science as we know it in 2023 delivered the final verdict. I shalt not bear the son of the son of Eli. There will be no further worthless men from a line of worthless men produced from this womb. What a scare and what an even better relief. Insh’allah.

Despite signals becoming firmer, the son of Eli pursued young Madison, the daughter of uhm, let’s say “Bob”. If I told you his name, you’d know who I really was. Sorry! After a particularly unpleasant and unwelcome exchange of texts, a shiny new Buick kept making appearances in our fair neighborhood. I was speaking to my co-worker friend outside a TJ Maxx and this time he pulled up and introduced himself as my “friend” and wanted to know all about mine. A few subtle girly signals were enough to get us both on our way with no further comment. Oy vey.

I was being stalked. At least I thought I was. The police department didn’t seem to think it was serious and insisted that if they were to pay him a visit, it may just escalate the situation. After being talked down by my friend, I was persuaded to believe in the kind officer’s advice. I would let this one slip and try to make myself scarce and he’d eventually give up the chase.

So, what did we learn in all this? I’m bringing out my notepad as we speak. Can’t say I really learned anything now that I think of it other than to be more careful about who I let into my life and to what level? I’m just an immature Jehovah’s Witness girl making her way outside the Kingdom Hall. Lots of lessons to be learned and I learned my first one.

Not great – not terrible.

Madison, signing off in 2023.  (maybe)