People tell us so many stories, yet sometimes the most significant are the ones they don’t tell. Thanks to BG for the comment about the set of silver. We used that set in my childhood. We used the elegant silver forks to pry open tuna fish cans and all the tines are bent at the tips. Yet my mother never said: Those forks have the family crest of my parents. We ate with them when I was growing up in Germany. Those were the silver my parents received when they got married.
I know all things now, after twenty years of research. I know what it meant for her to grow up eating with family silver, and to be eighteen and watch her whole way of life crumble. When you’re eighteen you sometimes are eager to get away from the past. I think my mother was. But what she lost caught up to her later.
These are the themes of my upcoming book, The Woman in the Photograph. I can’t wait to share it with you but it’s still on its journey.
What didn’t your mother tell you that you wonder about now. I had lunch with an old friend who just turned 80. She said her mother came from Russia. Now she would love to ask her what was it like to leave her country. What was it like to be on a boat in the ocean not knowing what you would find? When we’re 18, we aren’t interested. Ask now if you can! Tell us what you learned.