Family stories

This evening I’ve been listening to family stories.

There was the story of the boy born after his own father’s death, caught in the whirlwind of the Bolshevik revolution, traveling from Azerbaijan to Palestine.

Then there was the story of the other boy, caught between ethnic communities in Baghdad, beaten by strangers for being Jewish, then beaten again by his own family for not being Jewish enough.

There was the story of the girl, his daughter, who ran like a cat along the top of a brick wall, one brick wide, and never fell.

Generations dancing between impossible extremes.

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7 Responses to Family stories

  1. Tyson Perna says:

    You could record these stories! And I love the metaphor of that last image.

  2. anon says:

    The brick one sums up all the rest. You have to write about that girl!
    By the way, congrats, girl, for making it to the shortlist!!!!! That’s quite a wall you’ve managed to run along yourself!

  3. anon says:

    Could be justified hubris, lingering jet-lag, or the consequences of proximity to family: take your pick.

  4. Helen Lowe says:

    Mary, all those stories sound fascinating—maybe they need to be told? I for one would like to hear more.

    And congratulations for making the finals of the Morningstar/Gemmell Award; I was so thrilled for you when I read the news this morning.

    • MaryV says:

      Thank you dear Helen! Those stories certainly do deserve to be told. My mother has collected a few of them but I’d like to see them in print – perhaps transformed into a slightly different tale.

      And thanks re the Morningstar, too! I’m pretty bowled over – will write a post about it soon. 😉

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