When we remember we connect

I am writing this post while away. I am on a trip with my family in Germany, where we came to see the birthplace of my dear mother-in-law, Ruth.

Having come here for the first time 6 years ago with my husband, we traveled back to show our sons and our small grandchildren the village where Ruth lived before the awful events of Kristallnacht in 1938.

Three months later, in February 1939, she was sent away on the Kindertransport. Her widowed mother sent her off, at age 13, to save her life.

Miraculously, Ruth made it to the US and was eventually able to locate her mother and 2 sisters, who had survived the war. (She lost two brothers, and countless other family members.)

Ruth rarely spoke about her childhood. Her mother and sisters, who Ruth and her husband eventually brought to the States, were also reluctant to talk about the past. As we stood on her street, and visited Ruth’s father’s gravestone (my husband’s grandfather’s resting place) in the tiny Jewish cemetery outside the village, we felt transported to a long-ago past.

The emotions of this trip are taking us all to deep places in our hearts.

We are so grateful for the opportunity to connect our children to a heritage that goes back 400 years here (which we now know about thanks to the incredible work of a local historian and archivist). While our grandchildren may not remember their visit, they will have photos to remind them of what they saw and felt here.

My wish for you is to feel the connection to all of the people you love — those who are alive, those you have loved and lost, and those who came before them.

We are each the living legacy of so many people who came before us.