Family history
Today was a difficult and emotional day for many reasons. As I said before, today is the 50th anniversary of our escape from Hungary, the day our rickety boat froze in the icy waters of the shallow lake – Lake Fertő – that separates northwestern Hungary from Austria. Today the area is a holiday resort, but back then it was the gateway from Communist Hungary to the West.
Aside from this emotional baggage, I had an early morning meeting with a cancer counsellor at the hospital, regarding my concerns about the breast reduction surgery. Angela turned out to be a very, very great addition to my team. She is caring, astute and really good at her job. Just in the first hour I had a couple of insights as to why this breast reduction business is so traumatic for me.
Naturally, baggage from the past came up as well, and perhaps one should not be surprised that when my brother called later in the day and started screaming down the line at me, I just told him to call me back when he has calmed down. It felt good. But it was also bad, because we have not had a cross word in a number of years and it came as a total shock to me.
Tonight, my cousins in Melbourne had a celebration to reenact, with their children, our journey across the lake a half century ago. I am sure they had a good time, but for me it seemed a little overboard and I am not really sorry that I could not go.
Nevertheless, the day was spent in reflection, realising that 50 years is a very long time and I've come a very long way from the brooding 12 year old girl in the refugee camp you see in this picture. The girl with me in the skirt is Ilona, who was a German refugee in the camp opposite ours, whose family befriended me after all my cousins had scattered across the globe. They taught me all the German I know to this day.
Aside from this emotional baggage, I had an early morning meeting with a cancer counsellor at the hospital, regarding my concerns about the breast reduction surgery. Angela turned out to be a very, very great addition to my team. She is caring, astute and really good at her job. Just in the first hour I had a couple of insights as to why this breast reduction business is so traumatic for me.
Naturally, baggage from the past came up as well, and perhaps one should not be surprised that when my brother called later in the day and started screaming down the line at me, I just told him to call me back when he has calmed down. It felt good. But it was also bad, because we have not had a cross word in a number of years and it came as a total shock to me.
Tonight, my cousins in Melbourne had a celebration to reenact, with their children, our journey across the lake a half century ago. I am sure they had a good time, but for me it seemed a little overboard and I am not really sorry that I could not go.
Nevertheless, the day was spent in reflection, realising that 50 years is a very long time and I've come a very long way from the brooding 12 year old girl in the refugee camp you see in this picture. The girl with me in the skirt is Ilona, who was a German refugee in the camp opposite ours, whose family befriended me after all my cousins had scattered across the globe. They taught me all the German I know to this day.
posted by Unknown at 9:57 PM
1 Comments:
I was thinking of you today as I was subbing away. This morning,on breakfast radio, there was an interview with a photographer who took all the great sport shots at the 1956 Melbourne Olympics. Big story back then for little Australia. Hungary's revolution came to the sports meet in the swimming & the water polo. There was very nearly blood in the water when a Hungarian water polo player attacked a Russian player during a match & they were fighting in the pool.
You have come a long way, Liz - geographically, emotionally & spiritually in the last 50 years!
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