Ah thank you. To me they symbolize potential, be it latent or wasted or merely futile. And maybe there's the faintest echo of him in them too. Either way, I can't bring myself to let go.
Your poignantly written story gave me the shivers. I’d like to think that the brutality your father experienced as a Jewish child was of the past. Sadly past has become present once again.
Appreciate that so much. Years ago I read a touching New Yorker essay by a middle-aged man taking a cruise around the Aegean with his elderly father. He wrote something like: "Our parents are always unknowable to us in ways our children cannot be." Maybe I knew my father better than I thought....
Wow. We all have things we tell ourselves, and wounds that never heal. The most important thing is that it is our shared humanity, and that allows us to be transparent. Regardless, your dad showed his patriotism and that is courage and worthy of admiration. Yay him. Thanks for writing.
Ah thank you. I actually read last night at a kick-off for the publisher, Spiral Press Collective. Afterwards, a number of folks came up and told me--much to my surprise--that I'd nailed something essential about the Jewish immigrant / refugee experience. Turns out I'm not the only one; neither are you.
What an amazing piece of writing. So much in such a short space -- the piece evokes much more to think about. Where the boy in your father saw himself reflected in you must have led to defenses that were both psychologically serviceable and obstructive. This is true for so many parents who survived the Holocaust and anti-Semitism, in Europe and the U.S.. Good line: "But even if it wasn’t a service revolver, it was, I think, a revolver that performed a service." I will buy your book for sure!
Appreciate that so much, JR. It's taken me a lifetime to grasp what have been happening for him in those moments. No spoilers, but writing the book eventually led back to Hungary, where I learned so much more than I ever could have guessed about just how my family survived....
I have a friend who has also been working for years on a book about her father and his family in Hungary, during the war. It's taken her down many roads, some open, some blocked.
Thank you so much Camille. I have to say, I revisit that moment often these days, hoping against hope he could have opened that gate just once to me....
Great telling of a complex story. Keep writing.
Appreciate that so much, Mary! I intend to!
Wow, this was deeply moving and heartbreaking. As I’m sure it must’ve been for you. I can see why you hang onto the bullets. 💕
Ah thank you. To me they symbolize potential, be it latent or wasted or merely futile. And maybe there's the faintest echo of him in them too. Either way, I can't bring myself to let go.
Your poignantly written story gave me the shivers. I’d like to think that the brutality your father experienced as a Jewish child was of the past. Sadly past has become present once again.
Appreciate that so much. Years ago I read a touching New Yorker essay by a middle-aged man taking a cruise around the Aegean with his elderly father. He wrote something like: "Our parents are always unknowable to us in ways our children cannot be." Maybe I knew my father better than I thought....
Wow. We all have things we tell ourselves, and wounds that never heal. The most important thing is that it is our shared humanity, and that allows us to be transparent. Regardless, your dad showed his patriotism and that is courage and worthy of admiration. Yay him. Thanks for writing.
fantastic piece
Thanks Alex; appreciate that so much....
i need jewish writing that provokes. that isn't "the same." and this is really, really not the same.
super interested about your psychedelic post-holocaust thing...
-a
Ah thank you. I actually read last night at a kick-off for the publisher, Spiral Press Collective. Afterwards, a number of folks came up and told me--much to my surprise--that I'd nailed something essential about the Jewish immigrant / refugee experience. Turns out I'm not the only one; neither are you.
What an amazing piece of writing. So much in such a short space -- the piece evokes much more to think about. Where the boy in your father saw himself reflected in you must have led to defenses that were both psychologically serviceable and obstructive. This is true for so many parents who survived the Holocaust and anti-Semitism, in Europe and the U.S.. Good line: "But even if it wasn’t a service revolver, it was, I think, a revolver that performed a service." I will buy your book for sure!
Appreciate that so much, JR. It's taken me a lifetime to grasp what have been happening for him in those moments. No spoilers, but writing the book eventually led back to Hungary, where I learned so much more than I ever could have guessed about just how my family survived....
I have a friend who has also been working for years on a book about her father and his family in Hungary, during the war. It's taken her down many roads, some open, some blocked.
Keep me posted, please!
Seth, this is a stunning remembrance and you said so much in this brief story. I can only imagine how your father felt on the visit to that school.
Thank you so much Camille. I have to say, I revisit that moment often these days, hoping against hope he could have opened that gate just once to me....
The stories and emotions you've portrayed in such a limited space! May telling your story bring you peace, relief and healing.
Thanks for that, Sanobar! Looks like we're on parallel paths....