Chelsea Beach 1946, by Renee Fisher
I am huge. My face is round and puffy. My ankles are swollen. My breasts, generous under normal circumstances, are almost comical in their inflated condition. My belly, while large, is of lesser protrusion than my breasts. This gives me a look, not so much of pregnancy, as of advancing years. I am twenty-four years old and I appear matronly. I look in the mirror and shut my eyes in disbelief. I have become my own mother and grandmother. I am three generations in one flowered smock, a two-legged family tree.
I was married a mere 14 months ago, in a size four gown of heavy white parachute silk. The fabric created to bring soldiers safely to the ground, now brought me toward Harry, the man I married. Newly returned from the war, handsome in a khaki uniform. For the last three years, Harry existed only of letters that described unfamiliar and exotic places, letters written at one moment in time and arriving long after. They took on a slow-motion quality. They verged on being worthy of my mistrust.
While I reread the letters from Harry, my father reread letters from his brother in Pinsk, letters that had stopped abruptly in 1941. My uncle’s last communication with my father consisted of a letter and a photo. The letter is written in Yiddish, a language I can follow when spoken but cannot read. My father translated for me. It is filled with the thoughts of people who do not consider death a possibility in their lives.
The photo is 5X7, sepia in color, printed on heavy, stiff paper. The three of them. My uncle and aunt, the small boy standing in between. My uncle, dark, small-boned and narrow-shouldered like all the men in our family. My aunt, plump, in a way that I normally would have dismissed. Now I look more closely, note the puffiness in her face and in the hand that rests on the boy’s shoulder. In other photos of her, she is delicate. I now must consider this new possibility: an unborn child?
And last, the boy. Small and dark. Features so delicate as to be feminine. He stares at the camera in a solemn, respectful manner. He reveals nothing. Each time I look at the photo, I silently warn him to flee, to hide, to avoid his fate. But he is braver than I am. He remains where he is and stares impassively back at me. Escape for him means getting out of his stiff woolen suit and dress shoes.
So my Harry returned from the war and the dead stayed behind. I needed to get pregnant immediately. I know that I cannot give birth to six million, yet I sometimes succumb to an urgency I cannot explain. Several months after discovering I was pregnant, Harry suggested that we go away, a welcome home gift for him and a last vacation we would have before the baby would be born. I have chosen a place that feels larger than me, Atlantic City. I feel reduced to a more normal size, seated on this huge beach and standing at the edge of the ocean.
Here, in the sun, I arrange my considerable bulk in a striped wooden beach chair. Harry is in the ocean. The photo of my uncle and his family is in my beach bag. I have taken to carrying it around with me. I cannot say why. I pull the photo out and hold it on my lap. I do not even glance at it. Do I believe I can give these people in death what they could not have in life, this glorious sun and sand and feeling of total freedom? Of course not. Do I believe I will produce a child who will compensate for the loss of the small boy who looks at me with such intensity out of his sepia eyes? No. He is a product of his parents, just as my child will be a product of Harry and me.
Then why do I carry the photo? Simply because I am selfish for my child. The deaths of my uncle and his family have deprived me of giving to my child all that should have been mine to give. The loss is as simple as the absence of a casual remark on a summer day, “Look, he (or she) has cousin Nathan’s smile (or walk or dimple or sense of humor).
Harry is coming out of the ocean. I watch him approach, wet, dark and broad-shouldered. I know that he will put his arms around me and ask “How are my girls doing?” He believes the baby will be a girl. He considers no other possibility. I will pretend to be outraged and will push him away. He will laugh and kiss the top of my head.
Before Harry reaches my chair, I gently put the photo away, out of danger from errant beads of water sliding off young, muscular arms. I watch the photo as it disappears, my young cousin’s eyes forever open and expectant as he slides back into the darkness of my beach bag.
lifefromthestep
April 18, 2012
Reblogged this on lifefromthestep and commented:
What an amazing post. I just had to share.
Walker
April 18, 2012
What a touching tribute to family and love and loss.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
Thanks, Walker.
Lisa Wields Words
April 18, 2012
This is just beautiful. You have given them the gift of living on in story, as a reminder that we must learn from the tragedy and loss. Wonderful tribute.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
Thank you, Lisa.
pegoleg
April 18, 2012
Thank you for this lovely, moving moment of reflection. We must never forget.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
Thanks, Peg.
Kathryn McCullough
April 18, 2012
God, Renee, this writing is stunning–the voice so, so strong–yet quiet. This is understated brilliance at its best!
Hugs,
Kathy
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
Thanks, Kathy. Yes, I felt like I wanted a quiet statement for actions that scream of horror.
K.L.Richardson
April 18, 2012
You have a voice that is equality brilliant in seriousness as in comedy. Thank you for sharing your gift.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
You are welcome. I do love to write satire, but this goes deep.
mimijk
April 18, 2012
Ironically, I was going to blog about this today in honor of my mother who was a Holocaust survivor, her family members that were killed and the small remainder that dispersed around the world. Your words do this day justice – kaddish.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
Oh Mimi, I hope you do write about your mom. We get to give all of these people voices.
mimijk
April 18, 2012
I did – with credit to your eloquence which far exceeds my own. I just couldn’t let this day go by without saying something..limited in ability though I may be.
Sylvia Morice
April 18, 2012
Your post moved me, Renee. Your words are evocative without being flowery, crisp like pieces of apple bitten into on a fall day. Thank you for sharing this story with us.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
And thank you for such a beautiful comment, Sylvia.
Paprika Furstenburg
April 18, 2012
A beautifully written and moving post, Renee.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
Thanks, Paprika.
Gayane Palian
April 18, 2012
Very beautiful and touching Renee, I hear the ocean, but most of all I hear the silence.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
Wow, Gayane, your comment is poetry.
georgettesullins
April 18, 2012
The fifth paragraph about “the boy” will stay with me for a while. Excellent.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
Thanks, Georgette.
Betty Londergan
April 18, 2012
I had to read this terribly slowly and carefully because every word was lacerating and precious. I’m so used to you making me laugh, it was devastating and profound to have you take me in such a different direction. I love the way you write.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
Thank you, Betty.
gojulesgo
April 18, 2012
Thank you for sharing this beautiful post! As someone else said here, you are just as brilliant writing somber posts as humorous ones. I especially loved the line, “Escape for him means getting out of his stiff woolen suit and dress shoes.”
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
Thanks, Jules.
Audubon Ron
April 18, 2012
Yom Hashoah. I knew a woman with numbers tattooed on her arm. Every time I saw them a chill would overcome me. We all know history shows those numbers were not there to identify the person while alive. They were put there to identify them after all their clothing was removed and after their execution.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
I didn’t know that, Ron. I had family members who perished, but none who were in the camps (or, none that I know of). That is even more chilling than I had thought.
morristownmemos by Ronnie Hammer
April 18, 2012
New Jersey passed an act requiring that the Holocaust be taught in schools. The programs are moving and frightening.
Your post is beautiful in its telling the story of this small family. Thank you for writing it.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
Thanks, Ronnie. And I love that New Jersey is doing this. I believe so deeply that when children are taught how a government could take away the dignity, then the lives of one group of people, it creates an awareness in them of injustices that have happened and are happening now across the planet.
speaker7
April 18, 2012
This post is amazing. The loss was so overwhelming, and you were able to convey that overwhelming feeling just focusing on one family.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
Thanks, 7. It’s impossible for me to comprehend the scale of the atrocities. I have to focus on one family or one person. There is an amazing book “The Lost: A Search for Six of Six Million.” It is one man’s search for the ultimate fate of six members of his family. The title haunts me, because six million is too large a number to be grasped. But six (mother, father, four children) breaks my heart. And that is what the Holocaust was, one person, one family at a time.
k8edid
April 18, 2012
This was both haunting and beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing – and reminding us. You are are as brilliant in humor mode as you are in humble truth mode.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
Thanks, Katy. I don’t know about brilliant, but I accept your generous comments.
Carrie
April 18, 2012
Thank you for not allowing the day to slip by, filled with the mundane…less we forget
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
It’s too important, not only for Jews but for any people whose rights have been have been taken away and whose lives have been devalued. When one person is denied the dignity they deserve, we all suffer.
theattitudequeen
April 18, 2012
I didn’t realise 19 April was Holocaust Rememberance Day. Thank you.
My family were not part of the 6 million but my mother’s family are Hungarian and she was out one day with her mother and her mother’s parents on 15 April 1941. My mother’s grandparents were gunned down that day: fortunately my mother and grandmother were able to get away. My great-grandmother’s name was Emilia and last year early on 16 April 2011 (Australian time but 15 April in European time) my younger daughter gave birth to a girl and named her Emily (a derivative) without knowing the significance of that date nor her great, great grandmother’s name.
I often wonder about these sort of things and if there is any truth to memories of ancestors floating about or whether my mother had told my daughter, Rebecca, the story of her grand-parents when she was very young; maybe she had it stored away deep inside her memory.
Who knows.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 18, 2012
From tragedy, this amazing and life-affirming event has occured. Thank you so much for sharing this. The connection is too strong to be anything other than a gift your great-grandmother gave to you and to your daughter.
Dawne at D Magazine
April 18, 2012
A very beautifully written post. Thank you for posting this.
In 2005 we took our son with us on our trip to Europe. On our way through Germany to see friends in Saltzburg, we made a stop at Dachau. It wasn’t a planned stop. I asked Tim to stop there and he said he didn’t want to. I insisted. I don’t know why.
When we got there, I didn’t quite know what to expect, so I just walked around silently. There’s no way I could even imagine what they went through. I suppose I just wanted to pay my respects (for lack of a better word).
Regards, Dawne
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 19, 2012
I applaud you for doing this, Dawne. And describing it as paying your respects is perfect.
Dawne at D Magazine
April 19, 2012
Thank you. I just felt I should.
benzeknees
April 19, 2012
This was so beautifully written Renee. I was also not aware this was Holocaust Remembrance Day, but I am glad there is a day dedicated to remembering those poor souls who suffered so abominably. My husband’s family is German & do not like to talk about the Holocaust – I think they are ashamed of their heritage when it’s mentioned. Thank you for sharing this with us.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 19, 2012
I often wonder what I would do if my government embarked on a path that was so clearly against everything I believed in. What would I be willing to give up, to take a stand? My life? The lives of my children? And if I did nothing, how would that impact on the rest of my life? Even now, today in our country, I see people’s rights being violated, and I think: Is this how it starts? With the small events that have nothing to do with me? Of course, we aren’t Germany. And, unlike Germany in the 1920s, we aren’t suffering a profound post-war economic depression that created fertile territory for the rise of Hitler. But the real question is, at what point do people take a stand?
benzeknees
April 19, 2012
But don’t you think we are sort of living in similar circumstances to what the Germans did? We have economic depression world wide right now & a crop of politicians wanting to take over power in one of the leading governments of the world (USA) & who also want to make laws governing women’s bodies. Although the USA is not my home, it is the home of my daughter & I am outraged by what some of the up & coming politicians are saying.
*
The greatest menace to freedom is an inert people.
– Louis D. Brandeis
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 19, 2012
The economic situation we are in now isn’t nearly as devastating as Germany’s was. Our political system is more diverse and less vulnerable to the takeover of one extreme faction. We have a society that is racially and ethnically complex, rather than mostly homgeneous, as Germany was. All that said, yes, I am deeply disturbed by the hijacking of the Republican party by the religious right, the relentless assault on women’s freedom of choice and freedom with their bodies, and the decisions some school systems have made to give validity to the Creationism/Intelligent Design/Divine Design theories.
theattitudequeen
April 20, 2012
benzeknees,
There is no world-wide economic depression. Some countries are doing quite well (for the time being). I agree with Renee that the situation is different from the 1920s and 30s. Countries tries such as the US, Canada, the UK and Australia have much more ethnically diverse populations than previously (Australia used to have a White Australia Policy until the mid century) and I trust what happened in Europe last century won’t happen again. However, we all need to be aware of the possibility and make sure it doesn’t.
benzeknees
April 20, 2012
And this is exactly the point I was making. Things may not be as bad now as they were for Germany in the 20’s & 30’s, but there is some economic problems. Big election coming up in the US & some of the politicians are using religious beliefs to shape their platforms. If they were to get elected it could women’s rights back more than 50 years. We don’t want to go backwards & women don’t want to be the oppressed. We need to wake up & smell the coffee (and we didn’t brew it)!!
She's a Maineiac
April 19, 2012
I have chills. And no words. Thank you, Renee, for sharing this with us.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 19, 2012
You are welcome. As I said to 7, I can’t comprehend the scale of the atrocity. But each person, each family, yes.
nrhatch
April 19, 2012
Beautiful post, Renee.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 19, 2012
Thanks, Nancy.
Deborah the Closet Monster
April 19, 2012
What could I possibly say to this, save thank you? Oh, oh, oh.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 19, 2012
You are welcome.
Laurie Mirkin
April 20, 2012
Renee, you always stun me with your writing. There’s such clarity and an amazing vision in what you write, and such heart. I can’t watch any more holocaust movies or read any more “Sophie’s Choice” type novels. A long time ago my heart was broken trying to understand how “man-KIND” could do those things to their fellow man. I was blessed by what you wrote. There was an element of HOPEFULNESS in your story. Thank you! This day should NEVER be forgotten.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 20, 2012
Thank you, my friend. As I’ve told others, I can’t comprehend the scale of the atrocity. But one person, one family, yes, this I can. Each person lost is a loss to all of us.
CMSmith
April 20, 2012
This is tremendously moving. When I took a college class that studied some material about the Holocaust, I got weighed down by the misery, the tragedy, the helpless and hopelessness of it. ” What can I do for these people?” I agonized. “You can read their stories,” came the answer, from written words of Elie Weisel, I believe.
By sharing their stories, you are doing something, my friend. You are.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 20, 2012
Thanks, Christine. Yes, Elie Weisel is wise, indeed. The stories are what we have with which to honor the people.
chlost
April 21, 2012
I also posted about the Holocaust Remembrance Day yesterday. But with nowhere near the poignancy as your post. Thank you. The photo is haunting, yet what a gift to have the photo to pass on to new generations. It concerns me greatly that the day went virtually unmentioned in the media (at least that I saw), when it is more important than ever to be sure that these next generations know about this. I also fear a repeat-whether here or in another country, as I believe has happened with genocide in Somalia, Sudan, Syria, and Bosnia Herzegovina. We must not forget. That is the best we can do for those like your uncle, aunt and their son.
Life in the Boomer Lane
April 21, 2012
I had hoped that WordPress would choose someone’s post about the day. I was actually surprised they didn’t. The media usually has something but it’s never a big story. I think many people simply don’t want to be reminded of what men are capable. Others will quickly say that genocide has occured in many places in many eras, so why do the Jews get special note? For those reasons, the annual commemoration has been played down. And, as you said, that is exactly why we must commemorate, so that genocide, wherever it occurs, is recognized.
Carol R Craley
April 21, 2012
What a stunningly beautiful tribute to this young family and a magnifying glass on what horrors man is unfortunately capable of manifesting. I once invited one of my students’ grandfathers to speak to the students about his military experiences during WW II. For the first time in his life (he was in his 8o’s) he told the story of being one of the liberators. I thank him and all of those who liberated the would be victims as I remember with reverence those who were not so fortunate. No matter the personal risk, we must all step forward and embrace the rights of those with whom we share this earth…
judithhb
April 22, 2012
What a great refection from this yong woman. How lucky you are that somebody kept it for you. And the gift that was in the photo will remain with you and your family for ever. Thank you for sharing this with us Renee.