In this episode, we feature another first-time storyteller — Dorothy Matlis. We met Dorothy through our ten year relationship with Sixth & I. Sixth & I is a historic synagogue in Washington DC that hosts author talks, concerts, and community events. In this story, Dorothy shares an experience she had a part of Sixth & I's conversion program.
In this episode, we feature another first-time storyteller — Dorothy Matlis. We met Dorothy through our ten year relationship with Sixth & I. Sixth & I is a historic synagogue in Washington DC that hosts author talks, concerts, and community events. In this story, Dorothy shares an experience she had a part of Sixth & I's conversion program.
Story District's podcast brings you hilarious, heartfelt, and thought-provoking true stories told live on the Story District stage. Host Amy Saidman goes behind the scenes with the storytellers to hear more about what it takes to tell a great story.
In the third season, we bring you "I Did It for the Story". All new episodes will feature true stories told live on the Story District stage and insights about storytelling from Host and Story District founding director, Amy Saidman.
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Amy: Welcome to I did it for the story. I'm Amy Saidman and our mission at Story District is to help people like you become great storytellers. In this podcast, you'll hear some of our favorites, true stories told live from the Story District stage.
In this episode, we feature another first time storyteller, Dorothy Matlis. We met Dorothy through our 10 year relationship with Sixth and I, and Sixth and I is a historic synagogue in Washington, D. C. that hosts author talks, concerts, and community events. In this story, Dorothy shares an experience she had as a part of Sixth and I's conversion program.
Let's get to our featured storyteller. Dorothy Matlis.
Dorothy: So I grew up in a really small, rural community. Um, that was all Baptist. I didn't know anyone who wasn't Baptist, except for my dad, who was Catholic, and that was a total scandal. Then in college, I started working at an accounting firm, a public accounting firm in Rockville, and that's where I met for the first time in my life.
Jews. Lots of Jews. So during those years, I had the opportunity to get to experience a lot more cultural diversity than I was used to. I went to some weddings, some funerals, bar and bat mitzvahs. All kinds of different things that just really broadened my perspective.
Where was I?
So fast forward to my early thirties and along comes this nice Jewish boy. And on our second date, I very, very firmly committed, if this goes somewhere, I'll convert. It was about as decided as you might be with a new rug or registering to vote, but like I was doing it, it was really committed, um, if this goes somewhere.
So it happened to, and so over the course of time, we started attending programs at our local synagogue, which is six and I, as Amy mentioned, and we went to Shabbat services and different like. And I was just kind of going with it, like this is what I committed to do. And then one day a rabbi gave a talk about holiness and for whatever reason, everything changed.
It was real, it was serious, I was committed to it in a different way than I had planned on initially. Together with my boyfriend at the time, Naftali, uh, we signed up for a class with about 30 other people who were pursuing conversion at the synagogue. There were some couples, some singles, and on the first night of the program, this rabbi comes in and says, Hey, you guys are gonna be best friends by the end of this.
And I'm thinking, Lady! I'm 32. I have all the friends that I'm going to need.
Not looking for new ones, right? Totally nuts. So we go through this year long period of really intense, deep growth and work. So, we talked a lot about what we wrestled with in terms of spirituality, customs, belief systems, how we were raised.
You know, and at the same time, I'm sitting there with my soon to be fiancé and husband as our relationship is growing. You know, in tandem with this class and we're exploring our spirituality. So that, um, that year comes to a close. We got engaged, we got married. I converted.
So nine months later, we were in full on wedded bliss, the happiest I had ever been in my life. You know, everything was just golden. Everything was exactly how I wanted it to be finally.
Right. And I was also six months pregnant. So. My husband and I were so excited. We took a day off of work coming up in April and we were going to go off to do our baby moon. So, um, we had a meeting with a financial planner set for the morning because we needed to buy life insurance and then we were going to go buy a couch and off we go, right?
So leading up to this big baby moon weekend. He started to not feel so well. So, he went through some random tests that were not conclusive. One doctor said he was anemic, which didn't make sense. But we get to a gastroenterologist who said, Hey, come into the hospital on Friday, and I'll do an endoscopy, colonoscopy, and we'll see if there's anything there.
So, Here I am, 6 months pregnant, I walk into his room, he's coming out of anesthesia, and you know, if you've never seen someone do that, he was giddy, like laughing uncontrollably, just totally happy. Eventually, the doctor comes back in and says, hey, I think I found the culprit of why you're not feeling well.
I'm like, okay, what is it? And it's a tumor. sitting at the junction of his esophagus and his stomach. We didn't know anything about esophageal cancer at the time, but what we learned is that he had about a 12 percent likelihood of living for 5 years. He was 39 years old at the time, and his oncologist joked a lot about how he was perfectly healthy.
Except for the cancer. So, of course we cancelled the babymoon. My husband spent a lot of time that weekend just saying how devastated he was that we would definitely not be able to buy life insurance. Um. It, you know, it's just so much easier to focus on that than, you know, everything else. So, over the weekend we just spent a lot of time reflecting, and then on Monday morning we each got in our cars and we headed to work.
And I called a number of my nearest and dearest, and one dear friend who I often refer to as my Jewish mom, I called her and she said, have you called the rabbi? Why would I do that? You know, I just spent all this time with this woman, but I hadn't thought maybe I should call the rabbi. At any rate, I did.
I called her and she basically mobilized this entire community of people to be there for us in a way that neither of us had expected, um, Over the next 13 months between his diagnosis and his eventual death, we, um, let's see, where were we? Between chemo and radiation and his esophagectomy, our son was born, and my husband continued getting treatment.
He decided he wanted to die fighting instead of fighting publicly. You know, giving up on anything. So this synagogue community, um, introduced us to the concept of the meal train, which I'm really convinced was invented for us. Um, these people signed up to come walk our dog, do our laundry, wash our dishes, drive my husband to medical appointments, um, sit with me while I was nursing or using that pump thing.
Uh, You name it. And then all the way up until the end of his journey when he was coming home in hospice, a group of people from our class came to our apartment and helped us move furniture around so that we could get the hospice furniture into our dining room. So all the way at the end, Um, and I'll tell you a little bit about how Jewish, uh, death and dying works, in case you're not already aware.
Um, after a Jewish person dies, they are watched over at all times before they're buried. It's called Shomer, to watch. And so our synagogue community Set up shop at the funeral home for every hour, day and night to ensure that my husband's body was never alone, which is particularly meaningful, right?
Cause that's something he can never repay to them. And at his funeral. Another Jewish custom is after the casket is lowered into the ground, it is, um, it's common. It's the expectation that kind of everyone who's present, who's comfortable, scoops up a little bit of dirt and throws it on the casket because you're helping to bury the person, right?
It's, it's the last thing we can do to take care of a person. And everyone, you know, at his funeral, everyone, you know, came around, took a shovel full of dirt and threw it on. But the men from our cohort, these people that we knew, I didn't think would be my best friends, stood next to his grave. And they made sure that not only was his casket covered, but they pulled the dirt all the way up to ground level before we left.
And it seems like it's just dirt, it's just this thing, right? But that was them showing us that they were taking care of him, and of me, and they still do. Thank you.
Amy: This story gets me every time. It's so sad and sweet at the same time. I feel devastated at the same time as I also feel uplifted. And that's really a sign of such a great story. And she tells it so beautifully. She just tells it so with so much heart and sincerity. And I just love this story.
This story is a good example of timing. So for some, if not most stories, we need some distance before we can tell them in front of an audience. In a story like this, you need enough time to have processed your emotions. You know, it's okay to get up on stage and have some feelings. We want that. We want you to be present and in the moment, but you have to decide if these emotions are too big or you haven't processed them enough and they're overwhelming, so you can't be processing your emotions on stage.
You can have emotions, but you can't be using the stage to process them. It can't be, it can be therapeutic and cathartic, but it cannot be therapy. And sometimes it's hard to explain, but you know it when you see it. So we want you to be honest. And authentic, but if your emotions take over, then you are not ready.
And we always suggest you take some time, come back to it later because you need perspective also. And there's just a line that's too far. And at some point the audience feels like, oh my gosh, should we be seeing this and it suddenly feels like something too private that we're watching and we, and we shouldn't be.
So keep that in mind when you're telling difficult stories, we don't want our audience to feel like they have to take care of us. You know, we're there to share in a way that, you know, people don't feel like the person on stage needs something from them. I wish I knew who to credit this line to, but storytellers often say it's best to tell stories from your scars, not your wounds. And I love that it says everything.
I hope this story and this podcast is getting you to think about your own stories. Story district is here to help. So to see a show, tell a story, take a class or bring us into your workplace. Visit story district. org subscribe, leave a review and tell a friend about this podcast.
And until next time I'm Amy Saidman, and this is, I Did It for the Story.