WEDNESDAY OCTOBER 19, 2011
I never knew my Grandmom. She died before I was born. But I spent years looking for her. I thought of her a lot over the past month during the HOLY DAYS. Grandma Sheina never taught me about it in person...but since I found her I have asked her more in the Spirit to show me what it meant to her.
Slowly a picture has emerged. An uncle whom I bugged for 14 years since 1978 just to get her name called me in 1992 when his oldest daughter died. He said he wanted to make sure the information didn't die with him. Her name was Harriet he said and she had a sister named Catherine whom my Mom was named for. He also told me my grandpops name, that he was from Oklahoma and that he was Cherokee. And yet when I found that out in 1992 I ran into more problems. Why couldn't I find more...where was she buried. My uncle closed down. All he could talk about was how he had wanted to care for his baby sister and baby brother when his mom died and he wasn't allowed to do so. His wife wouldn't speak and they both died within the next few years.
In 1996 another break. While searching for my biological grandfather I happened upon a lady in California who was also searching for him. Turns out he had one family in Oklahoma he separated from in the 1920's and then a second family in Maryland. The California geneaologist offered to help me find grandma's information also. In 1996 I received a call from another family historian. When I gave her my grandma and her sister's names she told me bluntly "those girls died when they were 4 and 5 years old...but, I asked, how do you explain Hattie and Kitty?
A moment of silence and then..."well I guess they were the Jewish girls then..."
A story emerged of Quaker and Mennonite families working in tandem to provide passports for Jewish children fleeing Nazi atrocities.
Finally in the 21st century I tracked down another relative, my blood uncle's wife who was in her 80's and still living. The blood relative I found in 2002 had the gift of gab...finally someone who knew what I needed and why. She told me grandma and her sister had come from "the new Germany". Her sisters name was Catherine, just like my mom. Mom had been named for her Aunt. But how would I find out Grandma's birth name.
Finally when my Dad died in 2004 (on my birthday nonetheless...go figure) he left me a box, including a notebook and a paper written in Russian script...and a translation with a note attached, "Kitty's Mom". Turns out Grandma was born near the turn of the 20th century in the Ukraine. She made her way into Europe with assistance only to meet further persecution. She eventually made it to the U.S. where she gave birth to 8 children, 7 boys and a girl before dying at age 36 of cancer. A short journey in some ways and a VERY LONG JOURNEY in other ways.
I could see her menorah of children...all lighting up the world...yesterday, today and tomorrow. I can still hear my Aunt Lizzie's voice telling me how she and my Uncle raised a total of 22 children and put them through school--several of their own and many a foster child.
COULD IT BE that the real beauty of SUKKOT has been, over the years, to be devoted to thanksgiving for the abundance of life...LIFE is, in fact, the greatest treasure we will ever receive. TODAY I sat for a while with the last card I received from my son BEN before he was killed in the Spring of 2010 by a drunk driver just before he turned 26. I did not raise Ben. I placed him for adoption at birth. I was young. His father was not there. I wanted him to have a father in his life ... whether that decision was right or wrong I wasn't sure...but now I have no doubt... as I look at the card he sent me with 12 red roses...I read over and over the simple sentence, " THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME LIFE..."
HAPPY SUKKOT TO ALL...BE THANKFUL...no matter how much or how little you THINK you have...there is always abundance...you just have to look for it.
Shalom,
MOM NANHI
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