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Grandparents: Known and unknown

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Everyone has four grandparents. Some known and some not known. I knew only one. My mother’s father and mother died in the same year, six months apart from one another when she was only ten years old. She, her sister and two brothers were raised by their aunt, their mother’s sister.

Her mother’s father was a chief rabbi in Nemirov, in the district of Lwow (Lemberg) in Galicia (Austrian Poland) and her father’s father was a rabbi in the Lithuanian city of Kupiskis (Kupishok). My mother was raised in orthodoxy. And I was deprived of two grandparents who died decades before I was born.

My father’s mother died on the second day of Pesach in 1921 in Dereczyn in the Russian province of Grodno. He used to tell me that on the evening of the Pesach seder as his mother lay dying on her death bed she cried out to her family at the seder table “zing haicher; es vet zein meine letzte Pesach”…. Sing louder; this will be my last Pesach”. And she died the next day.

The only grandparent I was blessed to know and to love was my father’s father. Not my “saba’ but my “zaideh”. He read his........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)

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