OY, Vay! If Momma only knew what was happening! Although I believe she does know and she is high above us in the heavens and is causing a lot of Dorothy “DVasha” Moss havoc. I’m sure by now she has expressed her dislike to the Big Guy (not my dad,) but G-D, that she is not pleased with how things are going here on earth, specifically here in the United States.
My Zayde, momma’s father, Louise “Label” Freedman, migrated to the United States escaping the pogroms of Russia. The Cossacks ransacked the village he and his family lived. The first time, Label Freedman emigrated to the U.S. he traveled alone by steerage across the Great Atlantic Ocean and came through the ports in Boston as he had cousins in Boston waiting to welcome him and offer him housing. Along with housing came the opportunity to look for work and find a brotherhood in the Jewish communities formed in the United States where it was safe to be a Jew whereas it was no longer safe to be a Jew in Russia. When my Zayde, grandfather, left Russia he left behind my Baube (his wife along with their first born daughter, Jean.)
It was never explained to me how my Zayde got from Boston to Detroit or what the deciding factor was, but not long after spending time in Boston, he soon left for Michigan and settled in Detroit. He settled there and began his tailoring trade. He saved up money, planned for the future and traveled back to Russia to his little town to bring back his wife and daughter Jean, only to find his town destroyed and his wife and child were gone. As he searched for them he was lead to another small town and reunited with his Ida and daughter Jean and a little bundle of joy who was a surprise to him, little did he know he had left a pregnant wife behind on his last trip.
This family of four packed up some of their possessions, the Sabbath abracadabra from my Baube’s mother and a few family moments. They hugged their loved ones good-bye for the last time and traveled to America via steerage, the only affordable route.
My mother’s parents were never wealthy in dollars bur were ‘rich’ in love and family and passion for life. My Zayde like many immigrants in the early 1900’s took a risk not once but numerous times to make a better life, not just for himself but his family. Once he was here in America he provided money to help others migrate here as well, without some of that financial support and the open arms of strangers (relatives) he would have been all alone.
My Baube was a young woman left alone in a country that was full of hate and death, but she shared life and love with her daughter and nurtured the life growing inside of her. She believed and did not give up in the IMPOSSIBLE, and it’s as if she knew she was the I’M POSSIBLE.
My mother learned from these two. She was the youngest of seven, five that survived. My mom had a beautiful, loving relationship with her Ma and Pa, these two old fashion type people.(That’s what I use to call them.) They both had Yiddish ancients and spoke English mixed with Yiddish words. My Baube spoke more English than my Zayde, bur he was stubborn, just like my mom.
Speaking of stubborn, I think that stubborn streak will come out if it hasn’t yet and my mother will approach G-D before Friday, January 20th, and before ACA is destroyed. My mom will be the first to admit ACA may not be perfect, but what is? But, it’s the first step to creating something more perfect. Let’s not destroy what can be made better and have nothing in place. Before deciding it’s BAD, who is it BAD for and how can it be made better. The answer all is about money! However, Money has been the root of all EVIL and who has the Money, often the DEVIL himself!
If I were to describe G-D, I don’t see G-D as having money. I see this Higher Power as having understanding, compassion, and the guidance to entrust in us to make things right. It’s not about money; it’s about understanding the needs and requirements of those around us. My grandparents needed to get out of Russia to survive, to bring children into a safe world and provide a better life.
My mother and father did just that, and I am grateful, and now it’s my turn to pay them back and help others as well. It’s about believing that we are all possible and we can live in peace, and we deserve to reach for what is fair!
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