I’m reading the “Rashi’s Daughters” series right now and the daughter’s talk about finding their “bashert”. They’re from this really pious family and believe that they are destined to marry a particular man. This is the way it is defined by Judaism 101:
According to the Talmud, Rav Yehuda taught that 40 days before a male child is conceived, a voice from heaven announces whose daughter he is going to marry, literally a match made in heaven! In Yiddish, this perfect match is called “bashert,” a word meaning fate or destiny. The word “bashert” can be used to refer to any kind of fortuitous good match, such as finding the perfect job or the perfect house, but it is usually used to refer to one’s soul mate.
My daughter is 14. She asked me the other day if you know when a boy is the right boy. If there is a feeling that tells you.
This is what I think. It’s a lot like alzheimer’s. You won’t know for sure that you’ve met your bashert until it’s over. Until one or both of you are dead. Seriously. Sarah was clearly Abraham’s bashert. The story of Abraham and Sarah is the first real love story in the Torah I think. Adam and Eve may have been the first lovers, but Abraham and Sarah’s story is filled with true love and devotion over a lifetime. And it’s also filled with pain, like any real love story.
I don’t know if it’s normal, but I question regularly my choices, all of my choices. And find fault with most of them. But the choice I’ve made in a spouse, difficult as any marriage, is a choice that I fight for constantly. I fight for it with myself mostly, not with anyone else. It always seems like it could or should be easier, until I sit back and reflect on what a wonderful life we’ve built together.
Then I think about the time that I nearly lost my husband to a heart problem and what it felt like. All of the issues and problems that we deal with day in and day out disappeared and all I cared about was having a future with him. So, bashert or not, he has become my bashert just as Sarah and Abraham were bashert. And I’m guessing that at 14, at least in our modern times, meeting your bashert is certainly possible, but probably not likely. We won’t know for some time yet. But wouldn’t it be grand if sparks really flew and doves really soared?