My mother and I are immigrants. At the time we immigrated, in the late 1960s, America imposed strict immigration laws and screened against any communist associations or sympathies. http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/stories-told-by-real-people/
After the war, my mother pondered deeply, however, admitting to herself that a system of convictions she held so dear turned out to be deceptions was intolerable.
Crossing Paths with Professor Elie Wiesel. Let us travel back in time, to where I lived, after the war. To the southwestern corner of dreary communist Poland where Polish Jewish citizens….. http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/crossing-paths-with-professor-elie-wiesel/
In the last decade, before her death, my mother became progressively distraught. It was the knowledge that she was running out of time of ever finding out the truth….
The Pessimists Fled and the Optimists Stayed Behind. This expression comes to mind when looking at my own parents and survivors like them who ended up among the living. http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/the-pessimists-fled-and-the-optimists-stayed-behind/
For our family there exists only one photograph from before WWII. That of my father and his cousin/fiancée, taken in their city of Lodz.
The French Philosopher Emmanuel Levinas and his notion of ethics and relation as determined by the encounter with the other comes to mind.
Out of Warsaw, with tradition and trauma. Deconstructive ‘faith’ argues that faith without critique amounts to unverified belief.
My mother’s family in Warsaw after WWI observed strict Sabbath and celebrated all the other Jewish holidays, yet they dressed in the Western-European fashion.
At the end of November of 1939, after traveling separately, my mother from Warsaw and my father from Lodz they had arrived in Bialystok.
What I remember most vividly from my childhood years after the war in Poland is how my mother always watched the door, always hopeful, never giving up that a loved one would enter, come back from the dead.
Thanks for sharing 🙂