When my children were of school-age, my oldest had a good friend who was being raised Jewish by his mother’s family. He and my son must have had several discussions about this and what it meant because one day, my son–who was being raised in the Lutheran church–expressed disappointment that he wasn’t Jewish. “The Jewish people have a culture, Mom,” he lamented, insinuating that our church and people did not. I understood that. Religions like Judaism, with its long history, rituals, stories, and language create much more of a feeling of culture, deeply ingrained in whole nations of people for generations. I have often deplored how impotent the English language can be compared to Jewish/Yiddish when it comes to words to truly express feeling. Where is the English version of “mazel tov”? “Congratulations“? “Best of luck“? These sterile words don’t carry the emotional substance of mazel tov! They certainly don’t roll off the tongue in such a fluid, heartfelt motion. Mazel tov sounds like words of the people, between friends or family members or people you have some feeling for. Congratulations is something spoken between strangers, business partners, or acquaintances.

I have recently been introduced to a new favorite Jewish/Yiddish word: “b’shert.” If you look it up you will see it spelled multiple ways–bashert, b’sheret, etc. It is pronounced in multiple ways too–buh-SHEHRT, buh-SHARE-it, buh-SAIR-it, bĭ-SHEHRT–and strictly speaking, (as strictly as Yiddish can get) it means “a person’s soulmate, considered as predestined or ideal, any good or fortuitous match.” (https://www.beliefnet.com) But like all good Yiddish words, it really can defy a rigid interpretation. It is often extended outside the realm of matchmaking to the broader context of fate. According to Rabbi Brian, “The Yiddish word “b’shert” means something is or was meant to be.” (https://rotb.org/2014/12/01/the-bad-and-ugly-side-of-bshert/) But, really, “meant to be” in a good way. B’shert should not, from my limited experience and research, be used to explain bad karma. (another good word that we English people borrowed but not as good as b’shert and my apologies to Rabbi Brian who uses it to describe good and bad karma).

Other Wordly defines b’shert thus: n. lit. “destiny”; referring to the seeking of a person who will complement you and whom you will complement perfectly.” Still too narrow for my propensities, but easily expandable to include a subject other than a person. I might be prejudiced though. I learned the word from a new friend who happens to be Jewish. And she used it in the context of her husband’s and her purchase of our home. B’shert. It was meant to be.

We sold our home recently. It wasn’t just any home; we’ve had those. They are called “houses.” This home was/is special. It has a pedigree. It was/is the manifestation of dreams-come-true, the last home we thought we would ever live in, everything we wanted in a home. And it has become more than a home; it has it’s own personality. It is as close to a person as any home could ever get. In many ways it did not belong to us; we belonged to it. Which might be why I am experiencing an odd sense of peace in selling it. I can think of no other explanation than b’shert. It was meant to be. We were its people for 12 years. We brought it into being, creating and nurturing it through infancy and adolescence. It is time for it–and us–to graduate. B’shert. It is time for another family to love–and be loved–by this home, this little bit of paradise. It seems so very natural–meant to be–finding people “who will complement” this home and who “will complement” it.

Make no mistake. We have loved–and still love–this home and we will miss it! It will always remain a part of us unlike any other home in which we’ve lived. It will always be a testament to what we cherish, value and believe in. We have thoroughly lived in this space. We have used every square inch for living in so many ways with so many people. We have grown here. We have evolved here. We have learned here. Our spirits–and those of the ones we know and love–will linger in its corners and likewise its spirit will linger in ours. We will always be a part of this home as it will remain a part of us. B’shert. Of course. And now, we will be able to share it deeply, soulfully with another family who will think they own it when it will come to own them. B’shert.