Friday, February 03, 2006

Holocaust survivors, second generation (13)

My cousin called.

He found out about my accident and wanted to know how I am doing.

We lost contact shortly after an unpleasant phone call I had with his mother. He told me that she had broken her hip (or something) some time ago and that she was recovering well. He kept on speaking about her as if he wanted to pull out from me expressions of sadness about her situation. I noticed by myself how little I cared.

Finally as a sort of exchange to do him a favour (because he showed interest in my situation) I asked how she was doing and wished him the best for his mother (I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to wish her my best). We finished our conversation and he told me that he would call me again soon, and I knew he wouldn’t.

It seems we both inherited our mothers’ talent to communicate and converse in silence.

To the next post in the "second generation" sequence.

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