A mother raises you; a grandmother praises you (my mother does both). I am fortunate enough to have alive, two grandmothers - may they live to 120 and beyond. One lives in Sydney, the other in Melbourne. I recently took a trip south, to Melbourne to visit my Grandmother, Malka. Of course, it also gave me the chance to catch up with some friends, and a barbeque was the best way to achieve that. Meat, beer and laughs.
Malka survived the calamitous and destructive years of 1939-1945. At the tender age of 18, she was orphaned. Post war, she met my grandfather of blessed memory, they relocated to Australia to start anew. My father was born to my grandparents and they gave him the best possible upbringing and childhood that they could afford. They instilled in him the notion of respect, education and a love of Jewish life.
During my visit, many stories, anecdotes and lessons in life were recounted. She spoke in her mother tongue – Yiddish. I asked a few questions, and I received many responses. Her memory is astounding. She spoke of the old times in Poland, of the beautiful summer weather, the breezy winds and luscious fruits. She spoke about the good times before the war, memories, encounters and day-to-day life.
I observed her room and it contains pictures of our family, Yiddish literature and Shabat candles. She is currently reading the family Carnovsky, by Israel Joshua Singer, brother of the famous Isaac Bashevis Singer. The pictures reminded me of joyous moments, memorable occasions and family gatherings. She spoke of her daily routine where she prays for the health, prosperity and longevity of her family – her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.
My grandmother reminisced of the time when leading author and Jewish figure Elie Weisel toured and visited Australian shores. He spoke with eloquence and clarity. He was animated and vivacious in delivery. One of his talks was at Sydney Town Hall and Weisel in his inimitable manner was able to transfix his audience.
My grandmother also spoke of tragedy. She retold the incidents surrounding the destruction of European Jewry. She mentioned that whilst in the camps during the midst of the war, her and fellow friends would comment, ‘they cannot and will not destroy us’. The Germans would scream ‘You people have no land’. They would quietly respond amongst themselves, ‘we do, we have Israel’. Such was the attitude. Stories of the local tailor, lawyer and shoemaker in her town were told. The careers that were ruined the young lives that were crushed.
I reminded my grandmother of the fruit trees that grow in her backyard at her house in Sydney. She recalled how she remembers when they were in their first stages of growth, newly planted and needing affection and care. With persistence and continuous nurturing and watering they blossomed. The Mulberry tree was wild, the lemon tree the tamer of the two. This is exactly how life is, seeds are planted, and if proper attention, love and care is imparted to the ‘seeds’ then beautiful objects are able to blossom and bloom.
Special times.
Posts
