It is a terrible thing for a survivor family of three persons that in fact we have no relatives,
• no aunts and uncles;
• no grandparents or great grandparents
• no cousins.
All of them, with no exception, were killed. In our family, we hardly talked about it; we were not allowed to discuss it. It is surprising for me how my mother, in the face of that tragedy, managed to cope in life and to give us, her two daughters, almost a normal childhood and youth. In the photo (no. 5) you can see that Nora and I were two apparently normally developing children.
Our mother was a very resourceful and entrepreneurial person with a great willpower. She managed to catch up the secondary school final exams, then became a teacher, working willingly in this profession in a Jewish commune. Perhaps sometimes she lacked the desired strength, but, as a teacher she held onto an “apparently normal life”. This provided her with a structure helping her to survive in spite of her physical and mental wounds.
Together with my sister, we managed to understand this only after Mum retired. When the number of duties and also her internal stamina and resilience decreased, she bent under the pressure of depressive thoughts. It was very hard for us, her daughters, to cope with the despair and depressive moods of our mother. The violence she had suffered and the gloom of her past, took control over her spirit.
When we were still children we did not dare to ask her openly about the past of her family members. We did not want to see her distressed or sad. We do not know where she managed to hide her entire terror, great fear and profound sadness caused by the loss.
In the photo, you can see my mother in a 1992, when we celebrated my fiftieth birthday (photo no. 6).
Her last stage of life was very difficult for her, but also for Nora and for me. It was obvious for us that her depression was the outcome of her experience of
• humiliation
• dehumanization,
• risk of death
• loss of the beloved persons
• excessive challenges in the post-war times.
We tried hard, but still we were not able to heal the wounds in our mother’s soul. Perhaps we were too close to her and we were also burdened with this emotional load. We had to watch her gradual disintegration. My mother died in 1995 as a result of the delayed effects of Auschwitz.
Auschwitz is the subject which is so much moving and so much distressful, the atrocity of which cannot be comprehended – either rationally or emotionally.
The fact that I confront with “Auschwitz inside me” and “Auschwitz in a German society “, is understandable. For me, Auschwitz is a traumatizing element of my own biography, my emotional heritage. And:
• this emotional heritage will not end with me;
• it will be transferred from one generation to another.
• I must ensure that this heritage should not be transferred onto my sons, my granddaughters or people around me.
I am lucky that I survived, but this is, by all means, ambivalent: there is no answer to the question, why it was me that survived. Similarly, there is no answer to the question why other members of my family were murdered.
However, I am really grateful that I am alive, but still I suffer from the most profound human loss and I sometimes feel guilty that I survived.
This attitude led me to a decision that the fact that I survived
• should be looked at
• felt directly
• spoken out loud
• shared with others in my own family and also in open groups.
And thus, I should go through the process of internal development, even though it is painful.
I would like to stress that we are fortunate that my sons and my granddaughters confront with our family past. That is why, I am especially glad that my granddaughter, Naomi came from the United States to take part in this anniversary. Her sister, Nadja, would come also, if it was not for her scholarship obligations in Kenya.
This is how my biographical publication should be understood. The pain repressed for so long caused by the inhumane crimes and violence towards my (large) family and towards other people, revived now in the memories, is immense and for me difficult to bear.
Without Auschwitz my biography would be completely different, but Auschwitz cannot be treated like it never happened.
Without Auschwitz my own family, my three sons and my two granddaughters would have a different emotional heritage and different life.
My engagement for a peaceful future full of human respect is necessary for me. Auschwitz cannot be repeated.
Yet, proclaiming only “Never again” is not enough!
The solidified division between:
• those who push atrocities away from them, and
• those who confront with atrocities,
must be worked through together. I am one of the persons concerned, so I want to bring my own contribution.
I know that hatred and exclusion of individuals or groups will always lead to aggression and war. We know that a bridge is needed between various groups or ideologies to close the gap within the empathy between the differences most. Remedial process is thus necessary on both sides,
• both in the case of the persecuted victims and their descendants, and
• the members and descendants of the society of the perpetrators.
And in my opinion, coping with this is not a task to be performed only in isolation. These socially destructive processes, such as National Socialism (Nazism) cannot be resolved individually, but only collectively. This can be done only
• by those who want understanding
• with being together.
I know that this message will not come true just upon request. It can only develop through an example in life:
If you, an engaged and remembering audience give an example of peaceful being together, there are great chances for a collective and just development of our society.
Thank you very much for your attention and openness to my difficult reflections.
Your mindful presence encourages me to continue my selected path towards agreement.
Photo 2 112