Everyday at 1:00 pm Poland time, I wait for my phone to ring. It’s 7:00 am at home. I wait for their names to pop up on my phone. I can’t wait to hear their voices. I am a teacher, but first, I am a mother.
The moments that caught me off guard every time were those of a mother- the moments where I saw my children reflected in the lives of the children who lived and died during the Holocaust.
It was the videos of prewar Jewish life. It was the young girls picking tulips in the field with giant smiles lighting their eyes. The same type of tulips I picked with my 17 year old daughter this spring. It was the families ice-skating in the winter, laughing and holding hands. It was the people riding their bicycles down the street, enjoying the sunshine and the fresh air. The same activities I enjoy with my 15 year old son.
It was the scribbles of the children on the walls. It was the child’s drawing of flowers with the caption “POUR MAMAN.” It was the same as the many hundreds of pictures that have hung on my refrigerator, my desk. They have been scribbled on napkins at restaurants or casually discarded on paper menus after dinner. Sometimes they were even scribbled on the walls.
It was the texts, the phone calls, the FaceTime requests from my children that seemed to come at the most poignant moments. On the pathway to the crematorium at Majdanek, my phone rang five times. I silenced it and sent a quick text to my son, “I can’t talk right now.” His response, “I just want to see your face. I miss you a lot.”
How many children never again had the chance to see their mother’s face? To feel her touch or hear her voice? How many mothers never again had the chance to kiss their children goodnight or goodbye? How many had to make a difficult choice to save only one- or to take a life- or to intentionally say goodbye?
We say memory is an act of resistance. Love too can be an act of resistance, as well as kindness.
So love your family. Kiss your children. Hug your friends. Be kind to your neighbors. Cherish the scribbles “pour maman.”
