The stories I've compiled in my head about my family are epic and I recently decided to create a series of vignettes about them to give as a gift for my dear Mom on Christmas. I was born in the US but spent a fair amount of time between Augsburg Germany and the suburbs of Philadelphia. Any storyteller worth a dime loves to hear a good story themselves and I am no different. To this day (I'm 41) I will call my Mom and simply start the phone conversation, "Tell me a story.". She remembers the bombings, air sirens, the lack of food, her dead Father, the precious eggs Anna worked so hard to earn, the church in the center of town, the fortresses and castles, and so much more. I eat these stories up like the sag paneer I'm shoving in my mouth as I write this blog. Sag Paneer-what a far cry from the Bavarian food I grew up loving; liverwurst on pretzels, red cabbage soft as butter, and so much pork it would make my Jewish friends cringe. I wanted to bring my great grandmother to life; her name was Anna. She has always loomed so strongly in my mind as though she were my best friend yet she died when I was three. My Mother's stories have kept this stout woman alive. Once I get past Joseph's vignette, things will go a bit quicker, but my Grandfather's death on the Russian front is painful. It's painful because there is so much misunderstanding in the world about the German soldiers that fought during WWII. He was not a Nazi (nor was any member of my family) yet because of the harsh realities of conscription, he was yanked from his house and was shipped off to the Russian front, one of the harshest places to be sent. This man was a violinist and violin maker and his lovely wife was 7 months pregnant with my Mom. He never made it home to meet my saint of a Mother.
This project is exciting for me because it is fueling my creativity and is unfolding into something quite special. I am mostly excited, however, as I imagine my Mom's face when she opens her Christmas present this year.
