Sunday, January 30, 2005

ARTIFACTS FROM ANOTHER TIME

i had a dream last night in which i was back at my grandmother's apartment shortly after she died. as members of our family gathered all her things to be redistributed amongst kin, i went into the room that was once my grandfather's study. sitting there on the couch was her violin, her beautful 200 year old gem that she had played since she was a child, that she somehow managed to retrieve after she returned from the camps in '45. before i could touch it, it started playing on its own, although not visibly. the strings weren't vibrating and the bow was still in the case, but through the f-holes a bright, sunny piece played, no doubt by the ghost of my grandmother who gave me one last song.

i was so displeased that i had to wake up from such a beautiful dream. but my dad has kept the violin for me to learn one day, so in the end, i have the satisfaction of knowing this.

also in that room was my grandfather's med school diploma. when he returned home after the war, he went to his home only to find it in ruins. he went through the rubble and one of the few things he could retrieve was this diploma, which had only a small rip in it and was slightly browned over in one spot. he was so happy to find his diploma because it was one of his first victories as a young hungarian jew in a class of rumanians who resented his not only his superior intelligence and humble grace, but who he was. it was also the first step in a decade's worth of oppression that he had to endure.

the things they left behind in their apartment were plenty, and as a result i was able to put most of my room together when i moved from my temporary home on the upper floor to my new place on the lower floor of the madison house, just one week after my grandmother died. my father saw that i had taken a candlestick vase, an earthy green on that took the shape of an old lady's bust portrait. one of the few times in my life i saw my father cry when he said to me "please take good care of this because i remember this from my old house back home. i used to play with it when i was a kid."

here we are in the 21st century and our long and complex family history is contained within these few artifacts.

1 comment:

Guy Stevos said...

i hope my fingers won't cave from excessive string bending and jazz formations.