The relationship between the two sisters was tensed for as long as I remember. They even didn’t talk for a while. The contact was renewed only shortly before my mother passed away.
I understood from my cousin that his mother wouldn’t mind telling me about what happened to them in the war, so I decided to call her.
I could almost touch the tension between the two sisters in the intonations of the few polite distant words she spoke. The silences in between were yelling at me; telling me even more. It was if like she was using me to communicate with my mother, as if I had inherited my mother’s role. Then she told me that if she had time she would call me back, and we hung up.
I felt dismissed, abandoned and I cried.
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