February 10 （Amit）
I just wanted a quiet Shabbat meal. My mother had been insisting I go with her to shabbat meals with her – I mean our – relatives, who I didn’t know very well.
They were very nice, but there were way too many children.
This week Mom suggested we go to shabbat dinner at Chabad.
She meant well. She thought it would do me good to meet more people from the neighborhood.
Like sending a kid to summer camp and hoping he’ll make new friends.
I don’t blame her for not anticipating that the evening would end the way it did.
Before we left I wondered whether to wear a kippa out of respect.
But I decided against it. There was no point going back in the closet and faking who I was so that others would feel comfortable.
My mother didn’t say anything about it, and I assumed that she respected my right to choose.
It was a short walk to a brick building where a small group had gathered.
My mother greeted some people and introduced me as her son who was back from Thailand.
She had told some of them about me before and they said they were pleased to meet me.
I don’t know if they were sincere, but I felt embarrassed.
I didn’t think I could make small talk about my life.
Daniel was good at that – the small talk on our first date at Starbucks had been so good that I didn’t recognize it for what it was.
Maybe I should tell the old woman chatting with my mother about the transparent jellyfish in Thailand.
I concealed my laugh with a cough. Memories of Daniel usually brought tears to my eyes.
That was the first time I had managed to laugh.
The old woman walked off and my mother took my hand and whispered: “You see that couple that just came in? Those are Daniel’s parents.”
My heart thumped painfully in my chest. I’d prepared myself for this, or at least I’d thought I had.
I knew that I might see them here, just as my mother had not too long ago, but that wasn’t what stressed me out.
Daniel had posted that he was headed for the Final Stop – Home.
I took that to mean that he was going to make up with his parents and live with them, or at least join them for shabbat meals.
They wouldn’t leave him home alone, would they?
But here they were – without him. Daniel’s dad was tall and had the same luminous light blue eyes.
But his mother’s face was so like his that my heart skipped a beat.
It was almost like seeing Daniel in drag.
They noticed me looking at them and I turned away.
But it didn’t help and my prayers to become invisible were not answered.
“Shabbat shalom,” my mother greeted them.
“Shabbat shalom. You must be Amit,” Daniel’s mother looked at me sharply.
It caught me off guard. “Umm, yes. I’m Amit. Nice to meet you,” I tried to be pleasant, but she kept eyeballing me that way.
“Do you know where Daniel is?”
I was confused. Daniel had an Instagram page that he updated with his location every few hours. Why would his mother ask his ex where he was?
“I don’t know where he is,” I said after staring at her for a second or so.
“It’s not right to lie on Shabbat, Amit. I know you are good friends.” Daniel’s father spoke for the first time, and I wondered whether he meant to say boyfriends.
“Please watch what you say. Amit isn’t lying. He and Daniel broke up in Thailand,” my mother defended me, her motherly instinct kicking in. But I didn’t need her protection anymore.
“Daniel came over two days ago. He lost his temper and got very angry, but most of all, he seemed lost. We’ve never seen him like this.
We’re very worried and we don’t know where he is.
He hasn’t posted anything on Instagram and he’s not taking our calls or replying to our messages.
I don’t know what else to do. Amit, why did you do this to yourselves? ”
She cried and her husband comforted her.
I should have felt sorry for her, but I remembered what Daniel had told me – how alone he had felt with them.
Anger bubbled inside me as I understood that she was blaming our relationship for Daniel’s behavior.
I’d once asked Daniel that same question and he’d said that we were both fighters who would persevere to get what we want.
He was right. That’s what connected us to each other against all odds.
But he wasn’t here to tell his parents that.
I had so many questions: why had Daniel gone to see his parents and then stormed out?
Why was he angry? Did they talk about his coming out, his alienation from religion, or his globetrotting?
But I didn’t ask any of them. I had more important things to say to them.
“Daniel made me feel alive,” I said, and his mother looked at me again.
I returned her gaze and saw Daniel in her face.
“He gave me a reason to get up in the morning. I was floating on air when we were together. Before he arrived, I felt like there had been a power outage and I was surviving on generator power. But, when I saw him, the electricity flowed through me again and I lit up like I was charged with magical energy. Call it love or whatever you like, but it was the best feeling in the world. Breaking up with him was accepting that the puzzle of my life would always be missing a piece. Mr. and Mrs. Cohen, if God was not present in the love we felt for each other, then I don’t know where God is.
But I would bet my life that He would not be pleased that you refuse to acknowledge your son’s true and beautiful nature.
We were all created in His image. Please don’t forget that.
We all deserve unconditional love from our parents. Daniel too.”
They looked like they wanted to respond, but eventually just turned and walked away.
I didn’t see them again all evening. I’d held a grudge against Daniel for so long that it was strange to defend him or talk about how good we were together.
And still, I was worried that he hadn’t posted anything on Instagram. Where was he?
My mother gave me a strange look. “What happened to you over there in Thailand? The Amit I knew would never have spoken to a grown-up like that!”
I wasn’t sure if I was being reprimanded, because a few curious looks were coming our way, and I guess I had spoken loudly in the heat of the moment. But no. I did not regret it.
“I used to think that if I made myself small and ignored what I really want, everything would be alright. Everyone would be happy, and so would I. But, as you know, it didn’t happen like that, and I had to survive on my own.
Then I found amazing people who wanted, unconditionally, for me to be happy and I learned that the rebellious streak in me wasn’t so terrible.
That the sky wouldn’t fall if I dared to express it.
Daniel even loved that part of me. You know what?
I’ve met your American family; I want to introduce you to my Thai-Israeli family. ”
My mother smiled, but I knew she felt guilt about the past. I wasn’t angry with her, and I wanted her to know that, so I hugged her tight right there in the yard. I know God was in that hug.