This fellow, to be dubbed Biggs Darklighter, quite obviously disliked me on sight. He managed to keep it together (admirably?), and we had passable conversation for a bare hour before he deposited me on my doorstep.
Hmmm, I thought, he would be great for Mrs. Dack Ralter's daughter. I didn't know Miss Ralter very well—it was our mothers who are friends—but her background was very similar to Biggs', and from what I had heard about her second-hand, I figured it was certainly worth a date.
As soon as I came home I told Ma so. She tried suggesting it, but for whatever reason the two never went out.
A few years passed.
Then one day, Ma informs me excitedly, "Miss Ralter is going out with Darklighter!"
"Darklighter? Who's Darklighter again? Darklighter, Darklighter, Darklighter . . ."
"Remember, you said you thought he would be good for her!"
It took a few more minutes for me to recall him. After comprehension dawned, I became giddy with anticipation. Whatever tidbits Mrs. Ralter would pass on to Ma I would eagerly consume. Despite being in the security of our own four walls, we would whisper conspiratorially.
Their engagement was soon announced.
Was my initial reaction, "If only they had gone out when I had suggested it"? In no way. The more I observe the dating scene (as frantic as I am to be done with it) the more I realize that timing is everything.
This happy occasion could not, should not, would not, have occurred at any other moment. It's not that if they had gone out earlier then all that aggravation of dating could have been avoided; that aggravation had a purpose, to make them into the people that could now meet and then commit.
And no, I did not attempt to claim retroactive shadchanus.
Being proved right is so much more satisfying.
This happy occasion could not, should not, would not, have occurred at any other moment. It's not that if they had gone out earlier then all that aggravation of dating could have been avoided; that aggravation had a purpose, to make them into the people that could now meet and then commit.
And no, I did not attempt to claim retroactive shadchanus.
Being proved right is so much more satisfying.
I once went on a date with a young lady that was going okay and then I realized she'd be perfect for a friend of mine so I subtly spent the rest of the date interviewing her for him.
ReplyDeleteThey hit it off immediately, spent oodles of time together and then her mother decided enough was enough, he wasn't a doctor after all so she ended it.
Weird.
I completely and totally agree with you. Timing is everything. They could not have gotten engaged a minute before they actually did.
ReplyDeleteMy grandmother always says (with the proper accent of course) "The right one, in the right place, in the right time"
ReplyDeleteAnd congrats on sorta being shadchan, even if you didn't do the dirty work, knowing that you came up with an idea that panned out is very cool!
MGI: You see, that's what every man should go to medical school, just in case. :P
ReplyDeleteMW: Timing IS everything. I have great faith in it.
SI: Hungaaaarrrian accent, by any chance? (That distinctly rolled "r".)
It is cool! I was demure and modest in the corner, allowing my brilliance to remain unhailed . . . ah, well. ;)
PL=I have a very similar story. I too, went out with a guy just once, but when the date was over I walked into my house and announced he's my cousin's bashert. I didn't suggest it as we didn't want to 'insult' family, as they would put it, 'I was suggesting my "leftovers" to my uncle/aunt's daughter!?!' They would never even HEAR of it. Lo and behold, years later, we had a call from my uncle letting us know that the l'chaim would take place-I KNEW it had to be this guy, and it was :) When something is meant to be-it's just meant to be :D I still consider it MY shidduch though...
ReplyDeleteWe all do, inside. "My shidduch, na na na na na." Hee hee.
ReplyDelete