When Judge Judy Sheindlin divorced her husband, she was going through a very tough time. But their separation didn’t last long, and later she shared why she chose to marry him again.
Judge Judy Sheindlin is famous for being a TV judge and has a background as a prosecutor and family court judge. She is married to Jerry Sheindlin, who is also a lawyer and a former judge.
Judy and her husband have always supported each other in their legal jobs. When Jerry, who was a judge in New York, got an offer to join “The People’s Court,” he asked Judy for advice.
In an interview, Jerry said, “She is the one who told me I should do it.” He added that he wouldn’t have accepted the role if Judy had doubts about it.
Even with Judy’s big success on TV, Jerry wasn’t worried about competition. He said, “I think that behind every great woman, there is a man. […] But I also heard that behind every great man, there is a woman.”
Jerry started leaving his job as a Supreme Court judge when he began filming for “The People’s Court.” This new job, where he handled about 10 cases a day for two days a week, was much easier than the 150 cases he used to manage.
Judy and Jerry’s relationship has always been tied to their shared legal careers. They first met in a bar after Jerry had just defended a murder case.
While talking to a reporter, Judy walked in, pointed at him, and asked, “And who is this?” Jerry replied, “Lady, get your finger out of my face.” Since then, they have been together.
While Jerry enjoyed watching Judy’s success on TV, he joked, “If my show takes off and I beat her, I am contacting Hollywood to remake ‘Sleeping With the Enemy.’”
Their relationship grew with their boldness and humor. After a year together, Judy hinted at marriage, but Jerry had some doubts.
He said, “Why does the government have to dictate our relationship? It’s just a piece of paper. We’re already committed to each other.” Instead of pushing him, Judy suggested that if Jerry wanted them to live together, he should ask her dad for permission. Not wanting to face her father, Jerry chose to set a wedding date, and they married in 1977.
Though they were very committed to each other, their relationship hit a rough patch in 1990 when they divorced. The strain came after Judy’s father passed away, which put her under a lot of emotional stress. However, they remarried just a year later.
Jerry shared his feelings about that tough time, saying, “I missed her presence the very first week we were separated. It was strange not seeing her every day.”
Meanwhile, Judy admitted she enjoyed being married and missed Jerry when they were apart. She believed there was something special about sharing life as a couple.
After they got back together, Judy talked about their brief split in an interview. When asked why she decided to reunite with Jerry in 1991, she said, “That’s a long story, but the end is: I found that most men were alike.”
Judy shared her views on the differences between men and women. She said men have different basic needs. They like being cared for, receiving affection, and having their personal space. If they are fed, shown love, and given room to do their own thing, they are usually happy.
She has always been open about the dynamics of her long marriage with Jerry. In a January 2024 interview, she talked about how they have kept their relationship strong for nearly 50 years.
“You don’t spend 24 hours together because that’s deadly,” she explained, stressing the importance of personal space. Judy added, “Jerry just celebrated his 90th birthday, and I still like looking at him when he walks in the room—that’s a key.”
Judy, who will turn 82 on October 21, 2024, has always talked about how important it is to look good as you age. However, when it comes to Jerry, she doesn’t need to remind him—he already knows how to stay healthy.
“He loves himself dearly. Jerry is almost ten years older than I am, but I think his goal is to outlive me. He takes very good care of himself,” said the TV star, who once had a mini-stroke while filming a show.
Judy and Jerry’s lasting bond continues to win over fans, both on and off the screen. In a heartfelt Facebook post, she shared a picture of them together, which received a lot of love from followers.
One person commented, “You and your husband look so good together. Love your smiles,” while another said, “You look amazing. Love your common sense judgments.”
Judy Sheindlin and Jerry Sheindlin’s long-lasting relationship shows the power of love, respect, and shared laughter. After nearly five decades together, their bond remains strong, proving that true companionship can last through all of life’s challenges.
MY MOTHER-IN-LAW GOT A KITTEN AT 77 — AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO THINKS THIS IS A TERRIBLE IDEA?
The soft mewling sound echoed through the phone, a high-pitched, insistent cry that sent a fresh wave of frustration through me. “Isn’t she just the sweetest thing, darling?” my mother-in-law, Eleanor, cooed, her voice bubbling with an almost childlike delight.
I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my voice even. “She sounds… energetic,” I managed, picturing the tiny ball of fur wreaking havoc on Eleanor’s pristine living room.
Eleanor, at 77, had decided to adopt a kitten. A tiny, ginger terror named Clementine. And I, frankly, thought it was a terrible idea.
It wasn’t that I didn’t like cats. I did. But Eleanor was living alone, her health was… delicate, and the thought of her chasing after a hyperactive kitten filled me with dread.
“She’ll keep me active!” Eleanor had declared when she’d announced her new companion. “And I’ve been so lonely since Arthur passed.”
I’d tried to be diplomatic. “That’s wonderful, Eleanor,” I’d said, “but maybe a fish would be a better choice? Something a little less… demanding?”
She’d waved my suggestion away with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “Nonsense! Clementine is perfect. She’s my little companion.”
“Companion” was one word for it. “Chaos” was another.
Kittens were a whirlwind of claws and teeth, demanding constant attention, requiring frequent vet visits, and possessing an uncanny ability to find trouble. I could already envision Eleanor, her frail frame struggling to keep up with the kitten’s boundless energy, the inevitable accidents, the scratched furniture, the sleepless nights.
And then, there was the inevitable. What would happen when Eleanor’s health deteriorated? What would happen when she could no longer care for Clementine?
I knew the answer. I’d be the one left to pick up the pieces, to find a new home for the kitten, to deal with Eleanor’s heartbreak.
My husband, Michael, was no help. “She’s happy,” he’d said, shrugging. “Let her have her fun.”
“Fun?” I’d retorted. “She’s going to break a hip chasing that thing!”
But I was the only one who seemed to see the impending disaster. My friends, my family, even Eleanor’s bridge club, all thought it was a wonderful idea. “It’s keeping her young!” they’d chirp. “It’s giving her a purpose!”
I felt like I was living in a bizarre alternate reality, where everyone had lost their minds.
Weeks turned into months. Clementine grew into a mischievous young cat, a ginger blur that terrorized Eleanor’s houseplants and shredded her curtains. Eleanor, surprisingly, seemed to be thriving. She’d developed a newfound energy, a spring in her step that I hadn’t seen in years.
She’d joined an online cat forum, sharing photos and videos of Clementine’s antics. She’d even started taking her to a local cat café, where she’d made new friends.
One afternoon, I visited Eleanor, expecting to find chaos. Instead, I found her sitting on the sofa, Clementine curled up in her lap, purring contentedly. Eleanor looked radiant, her eyes sparkling with happiness.
“She’s been so good today,” she said, stroking Clementine’s soft fur. “We’ve been having a lovely afternoon.”
I watched them, a strange mix of emotions swirling within me. I’d been so convinced that this was a terrible idea, a recipe for disaster. But I’d been wrong.
Eleanor wasn’t just keeping Clementine; Clementine was keeping Eleanor. She was giving her a reason to get out of bed in the morning, a source of companionship, a spark of joy in her life.
I realized then that my concern, while well-intentioned, had been misplaced. I’d been so focused on the potential problems that I’d overlooked the simple truth: Eleanor was happy. And that, in the end, was all that mattered.
As I left her house, I smiled. Maybe, just maybe, I’d been the one who needed to learn a lesson. Sometimes, the best things in life are the ones we least expect.
Leave a Reply