First Mikvah Experience at Almost 60

I was born in New York to first-generation American parents. My maternal Bubby and Zaide were “Old Country” traditionally observant, shomer Shabbat, shomer kashrut, mitzvot, etc. My parents were secular and abandoned all observance except their version of Pesach (Passover). As a result, they had two daughters who were totally secularized and assimilated, not even going to “Sunday School”, except for one summer at a Jewish/Kosher “sleepaway” camp for three weeks at age seven. Then there were my Bubby’s constant rules about what we can and can’t do – without explanations, when we were at her house. We did not have any real understanding of what being truly Jewish meant. All we knew was that a lot of people hated us and were not afraid to be vocal about it.

So it sort of follows that when I married, we lived a similar lifestyle. In 2000, my husband and I began the teshuvah journey together. We moved to an orthodox community to learn whatever we could. We became immersed in a genuine religious life, observing (almost) all the mitzvot set before us. We did not, however, observe the laws of niddah because it was not necessary, or so we thought. I was post (surgically induced) menopause since age 33, almost 20 years prior. 

In 2002, both my husband and I lost our mothers within six hours of each other, buried them side by side, and sat shiva together at our daughter’s home. I think that during those seven excruciating days we were visited by almost everyone in the entire Jewish community, including all the rabbonim gadolim (great rabbis). Everyone was talking about the “bizarre” circumstances of their passing, offering condolences and giving blessings. As terrible as the situation was, there was comfort in these amazing visits and expressions of love. I have never felt anything like that in my life. It has left an indelible impression of Jewish love and unity.

It took a few years to adjust to a new norm and we made the decision to make aliyah. Our daughters were grown and married and had their own families, all four of our parents were gone, we were both approaching retirement years and so after hearing so much about planes that take 200 people on a one-way trip and landing in Israel, “The Promised Land” as official Israeli citizens, it was just too wonderful not to do it! And so we did. Three days after my 56th birthday, I finally came home.

I cannot describe the incredibly powerful feeling of holiness in the air! We were changed people. We made our first home in a lovely yishuv in the Binyamin area. We made friends quickly within the Anglo community whose outreach was beautiful. After several months, I started having a feeling that something was just not quite right – with me. I felt incomplete somehow in Hashem’s Holy Land.

I had very strong feelings that I needed to go to the mikvah, something I had never done before. Even though I was technically exempt, I felt that this was absolutely the most important thing to do to make my teshuva journey complete. So at age 57 I started taking private, tailor-made “kallah” classes with the most incredible young woman I have ever met! She was sensitive to my needs and respectful of my concerns. Whenever I had a question, she would immediately consult the Rabbi. Some restrictions were waived in my case, but others were fully enforced. 

Finally the big day arrived and I was treated with the utmost respect. The “Mikvah Lady” (balanit) indulged me with the bridal room. They took me on a little tour, explained how things worked and what I was supposed to do. I had a bubble bath and a short shower and did the required grooming. I was very nervous and I was very excited. I also felt a bit embarrassed exposing my body, being naked and being watched. At 57 I did not have the same figure of a 20year-old first timer. 

The balanit was so special. She had a calming warm smile, and was kind and respectful. She let me take my time. I was given a plush white robe to put on and she asked if I was ready. My hands were shaking but I was resolved to “toivel” (immerse). My balanit opened the door after I nodded that I was ready, and escorted me to the very special, private pool. 

I recited a few tehillim but my hands were still shaking. I was still not 100 percent comfortable at being seen naked. (I even ditched the girls showers after gym class). Nor did I relish the moment when water would enter my nostrils and ears. But I did it because it was so important to me. Not just for my husband (of many years) but for Hashem. It was as if I was cleaning away all my past and putting on new, holy clothing. 

The balanit was amazing. She guided me every step of the way, she told me how to stand when I removed my robe and how to immerse. She held a huge towel up in front of herself and did not look at my body as I went down the steps. I was surprised that the water was so warm and soothing as immediately a sense of extreme peace and calm came over me and I was no longer afraid of anything at that moment. Every concern was miles away. I said the blessing, and went down into the water as instructed and finally heard the balanit yell exuberantly “KO-SH-ERRR”!!!!! All the other attendants were applauding and cheering from the hallway! I came out and up the steps with the towel outstretched so my body was not seen by anyone. I was wrapped in a terry cloth hug that defies any description. I really felt like a bride. And every time I recall that moment the tears of joy overflow and I am imbued all over again with the feeling of Hashem’s holiness.