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Today is the Holocaust day.
Apr. 19th, 2012 04:31 pmToday is the Holocaust day.
This day was always quite personal for me. Both my grandparents (from my mother's side) were Survivors. Each lost an entire family, each lost six children. My aunts and uncles, who I will never know.
And so, my mother lived a restrected and unstable childhood. She had to take care of her mom, who woke up screaming from nightmare about her lost children every night. Her whole life were shaped under the shadow of the Holocaust.
And on a lesser scale, so were mine. Since everything that was wrong and harmful in my childhood is the result of my mother's trauma. My mother's chocking hold of me. Her " You are such an ungratful daughter, you care nothig if I live or die. You are killing me." Her numerous and often unrational fears. Most of this can be explain by her being very much a "second generation" child.
It makes her often crul behavior understandable. It does not make it excuseable. Or less hurting.
Every year on this day, my mother almost obsessivly digs into this wound, tells and retells the stories about what They did to her parents and how hard was her childhood. Every year. I have come to dread talking with her.
And every year, it does not get easier.
This day was always quite personal for me. Both my grandparents (from my mother's side) were Survivors. Each lost an entire family, each lost six children. My aunts and uncles, who I will never know.
And so, my mother lived a restrected and unstable childhood. She had to take care of her mom, who woke up screaming from nightmare about her lost children every night. Her whole life were shaped under the shadow of the Holocaust.
And on a lesser scale, so were mine. Since everything that was wrong and harmful in my childhood is the result of my mother's trauma. My mother's chocking hold of me. Her " You are such an ungratful daughter, you care nothig if I live or die. You are killing me." Her numerous and often unrational fears. Most of this can be explain by her being very much a "second generation" child.
It makes her often crul behavior understandable. It does not make it excuseable. Or less hurting.
Every year on this day, my mother almost obsessivly digs into this wound, tells and retells the stories about what They did to her parents and how hard was her childhood. Every year. I have come to dread talking with her.
And every year, it does not get easier.
