She really is, you can "Rabbi Tales" here and some excerpt below. Cool? Totally.
"He’s married, of course. A single rabbi makes the congregation nervous, like here’s someone who can’t commit, can’t get anyone to trust him, to stay through thick and thin, to love him forever. That’s never been my issue.
"I tell my therapist. My therapist is my mother. Have you met someone? She asks. As a matter of fact, I say. Thank God. She fans herself, farklempt. I knew you’d find love. Love, I echo, though it sounds more like a question. Don’t go jinxing it, she waves me off like a mosquito. Say no more.
"At night, he’s in my dreams. Down dirt roads, possessed of blind faith and the soft scuffle of shoes. We’re on the lookout for bears skunks raccoons rabbits! – as we run and pant and listen to our jagged breath, as we follow the cut curves of the earth, step from the shadows into bright prairie light.
"Where did you meet him?
"Shul, I say.
"She claps. What I tell you?"