Whenever my father related an adventurous tale from his East European childhood, I sat rapt while my ears drew in every animated word that flew so readily from Dad's memory, through his mind and out of his mouth. Upon reflection, I was hungry to know my family's history on both sides.
My Dad's parents lived in a shtetl so small that everyone knew everyone else's business, or at least everyone believed self conceived assumptions to be facts, just as is true, from that day to this, of people the world over.
Though my grandparents were devoted to each other, to hear my father tell it, no one could have loved anyone more completely than Bailey adored Yacob. So just as I'd seen Dad's spirit beam as bright as a sparkler whenever my mother walked into a room, my dad declared that his mother's spirit had electrified when in the presence of his dad. And as memories emerge of my Grandma Bailey's sparkling, blue eyes radiating pure joy each time she and I enjoyed a sleepover, I've no doubt that what Dad had said about my dearly loved Grandma was true.
As mentioned in an early post, hero worship proved to be a popular family trait. And having experienced the expansive nature of intuitive adoration, myself, I have sound reason to believe the human heart has no boundary tall enough or thick enough to stop Cupid's arrow from striking home when certain people, whose presence electrify my spirit, walk into a room ... I mean, when you stop to think about it, Cupid's arrow is not limited to striking a heart only once in a lifetime. Personally, I've felt struck with love upon laying eyes on three new born babes ... know what I mean?
As the story goes, my grandpa, supposedly a brilliant, young scholar, was being groomed to become the shtetl's next rebbe (rabbi) when fate threw him a curve in that he was conscripted into the Polish Army ... during peacetime. (I can recall my mother suggesting, under her breath, that her father-in-law grew ever more brilliant and scholarly with each telling of this story.). Though we may have considered the world at peace when Grandpa was conscripted, in truth, there's never been a time when every tribe, city-state or nation in the world has ceased marching toward gaining control over more territory on planet Earth, and that statement proves especially true of Polish history, suggestive of their army, fighting against one invasion after another, so often, that Poland's boundaries seemed to change more quickly than new maps could roll off the printing press.
Since anti-semitism ran rampant throughout Eastern Europe at that time, it was common for Jews, conscripted into the Polish army, to disappear without a trace, so my grandpa and grandma put their heads together and came up with this plan of action: Yacob would steal away in the dark of night, and after making his way to America, where religious freedom reigned supreme and streets were paved with gold, he'd work to save passage for Bailey to join him, and all their dreams would come true. (Though I've heard tell that Grandpa Yacob was a dreamer, after listening to multiple versions of that which had compelled Bailey's sweetheart to cross the ocean several times, I've come to see my hard working grandpa as a die-hard idealist ... yet another familial trait passed down from Dad's side to someone you've come to know ... And thank goodness for that, because in lieu of idealistic fires re-igniting intuitively within leadership's hearts, the human spirit would experience burn out, suggestive of the downtrodden masses having no light to guide them toward thinking so insightfully as to lay down weapons of mass destruction, climb out of foxholes, and place their trust in the human desire for peace amongst all people on planet Earth, if not today then when the sun comes out, tomorrow! Whew!
After Jacob stole away, leaving everything he knew of life and everyone he'd loved behind, rumors of having been abandoned by her bridegroom burned painfully into young Bailey's heart, thus increasing my grandmother's emotional distress immeasurably, because she'd desperately missed her beloved husband, day after day. However, as Bailey had no way of knowing whether her sweetheart had safely stolen himself out of Poland, this courageous, young woman held her tongue as she walked about town with her head held high while negatively focused whispers of tsk tsk branded her unworthy of Yacob's love, and whenever she was questioned over many months, my precious grandma lowered her eyes, stared at the ground, and stout heartedly offered family, friends and busybodies no explanation for Yacob's sudden disappearance until the blessed day when her beloved's first letter from the new world had been received, thus freeing Bailey's voice to rejoice, aloud, and as the truth, concerning the sacred place she'd held in her husband's heart became public knowledge, my grandma's soiled reputation was washed spotless for all to see, at long last.
As that's my Dad's version of his parent's separation, please tune in tomorrow when I'll reveal details, deviating from Dad's rendition, which Dad's sister, my Aunt Risa, believes to be the true tale of her parents' lengthy separation ...
My Dad's parents lived in a shtetl so small that everyone knew everyone else's business, or at least everyone believed self conceived assumptions to be facts, just as is true, from that day to this, of people the world over.
Though my grandparents were devoted to each other, to hear my father tell it, no one could have loved anyone more completely than Bailey adored Yacob. So just as I'd seen Dad's spirit beam as bright as a sparkler whenever my mother walked into a room, my dad declared that his mother's spirit had electrified when in the presence of his dad. And as memories emerge of my Grandma Bailey's sparkling, blue eyes radiating pure joy each time she and I enjoyed a sleepover, I've no doubt that what Dad had said about my dearly loved Grandma was true.
As mentioned in an early post, hero worship proved to be a popular family trait. And having experienced the expansive nature of intuitive adoration, myself, I have sound reason to believe the human heart has no boundary tall enough or thick enough to stop Cupid's arrow from striking home when certain people, whose presence electrify my spirit, walk into a room ... I mean, when you stop to think about it, Cupid's arrow is not limited to striking a heart only once in a lifetime. Personally, I've felt struck with love upon laying eyes on three new born babes ... know what I mean?
As the story goes, my grandpa, supposedly a brilliant, young scholar, was being groomed to become the shtetl's next rebbe (rabbi) when fate threw him a curve in that he was conscripted into the Polish Army ... during peacetime. (I can recall my mother suggesting, under her breath, that her father-in-law grew ever more brilliant and scholarly with each telling of this story.). Though we may have considered the world at peace when Grandpa was conscripted, in truth, there's never been a time when every tribe, city-state or nation in the world has ceased marching toward gaining control over more territory on planet Earth, and that statement proves especially true of Polish history, suggestive of their army, fighting against one invasion after another, so often, that Poland's boundaries seemed to change more quickly than new maps could roll off the printing press.
Since anti-semitism ran rampant throughout Eastern Europe at that time, it was common for Jews, conscripted into the Polish army, to disappear without a trace, so my grandpa and grandma put their heads together and came up with this plan of action: Yacob would steal away in the dark of night, and after making his way to America, where religious freedom reigned supreme and streets were paved with gold, he'd work to save passage for Bailey to join him, and all their dreams would come true. (Though I've heard tell that Grandpa Yacob was a dreamer, after listening to multiple versions of that which had compelled Bailey's sweetheart to cross the ocean several times, I've come to see my hard working grandpa as a die-hard idealist ... yet another familial trait passed down from Dad's side to someone you've come to know ... And thank goodness for that, because in lieu of idealistic fires re-igniting intuitively within leadership's hearts, the human spirit would experience burn out, suggestive of the downtrodden masses having no light to guide them toward thinking so insightfully as to lay down weapons of mass destruction, climb out of foxholes, and place their trust in the human desire for peace amongst all people on planet Earth, if not today then when the sun comes out, tomorrow! Whew!
After Jacob stole away, leaving everything he knew of life and everyone he'd loved behind, rumors of having been abandoned by her bridegroom burned painfully into young Bailey's heart, thus increasing my grandmother's emotional distress immeasurably, because she'd desperately missed her beloved husband, day after day. However, as Bailey had no way of knowing whether her sweetheart had safely stolen himself out of Poland, this courageous, young woman held her tongue as she walked about town with her head held high while negatively focused whispers of tsk tsk branded her unworthy of Yacob's love, and whenever she was questioned over many months, my precious grandma lowered her eyes, stared at the ground, and stout heartedly offered family, friends and busybodies no explanation for Yacob's sudden disappearance until the blessed day when her beloved's first letter from the new world had been received, thus freeing Bailey's voice to rejoice, aloud, and as the truth, concerning the sacred place she'd held in her husband's heart became public knowledge, my grandma's soiled reputation was washed spotless for all to see, at long last.
As that's my Dad's version of his parent's separation, please tune in tomorrow when I'll reveal details, deviating from Dad's rendition, which Dad's sister, my Aunt Risa, believes to be the true tale of her parents' lengthy separation ...
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