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Like hands for Mr. lizhurley

Like hands for Mr. lizhurley.


As the weekend approaches, I’m fondly remembering a post during June where Rita, our friend and colleague, posted some pictures that dealt with one of the sweet gift routines, and one of those special things that people do in relationships, that she started with her husband that has since evolved into a collection, and how her friends have come to associate these gifts (hands) with her husband. Visit her story at the link at he bottom of the page.


When my wife and I were dating, it was not an experience without obstacles. She was raised in a household that kept Kosher; I was raised in a household that kept religion at bay. I had grown children, she had young ones. We both had ex’s that, shall I say, did not have our best interests at heart. In fact, there were active attempts at sabotage and other nastiness that people involved in similar circumstances are probably now giving us silent head nods of agreement, and that “I feel your pain” look. And then of course, there was money, or the lack there of. The dynamics of dividing up households does not bode well for one’s self-concept (even when you’re the petitioner) or being able to revel in personal wealth. Packages of Ramen noodles once again reared their ugly heads as a dinner staple.


Even though the physical, emotional and intellectual attraction was fierce, the relationship had peaks and valleys that made us question the advisability of maintaining it. During once such conversation, I brought her a small gift that was attached to a ceramic flying pig.

“We’ll be together,” I said, “ When Hell freezes over, when the cows come home (I hope Mashuga is grinning here) and, when pigs fly.” As I handed her the flying pig, I told her,

“Our pigs are flying.”

It was a small gesture, and really corny, but it had an incredible impact. You can tell people things, but showing sends a different message. Our relationship rallied, and we’ve now been married 6 incredible years. In Hebrew, we are B’sherte, soul mates.

The picture at the top of the page is the flying pigs that stood in front of our wedding cake, and they now watch over us from the china cabinet in the dining room, where they are the ancestors of a rapidly growing colllection.


In your relationships with that special someone, I hope that you have special routines like hands for Mr. lizhurley, flying pigs, and B’sherte.


Love to all, “live long and prosper” and Shalom.

Have a wonderful weekend!



Visit Rita’s wonderful work here:


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Uploaded on August 26, 2005