I woke up remembering my mother today — not just because it’s Mother’s Day, but because of the everlasting, indelible impression she left behind.
Henny Gurko was amazing — with a wicked sense of humor that inspired my edge. Her only downside? The delicious home-cooked meals that rendered me rotund as a child. Thank God for the drug-fueled 1970s that helped get my body in check.
So many people I know have unresolved issues with their parents: guilt, anger, resentment. I mean — grow up, move on, and get over it. Yes, parents can be annoying. But so are their kids. So it’s a wash.
My mother was a concentration camp survivor.
That she managed to retain her sense of humor through that unimaginable nightmare is a testament to the resilience of her spirit.
Who knows — maybe it was her humor that saved her.
They say, “That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
So… does that which makes you stronger also make you funny?
(Discuss amongst yourselves.)
And my father was no slouch either — sent to a Siberian labor camp, then escaped to join the underground smuggling women and children through the Alps to freedom. I can’t and won’t ever fathom what they endured for all those years, but I’m honored to carry their DNA.
I pity those who moan and groan about their parents.
I have very little patience for anyone’s — especially my own — daily whining.
Even less for people who have the power to make different choices but don’t.
No matter how shitty things get, I always say:
“Well… at least I’m not coatless and shoeless in the dead of winter in the Rhineland.”
Now there’s a cheery thought.
Happy Mother’s Day.
Love…ABE
PS…My parents are the inspiration of my book —
“Won’t Be Silent - Don’t Stop ‘til It Matters.
Great story. Thank you for being you.
great post!!