| Año 3 • No. 119 • octubre 13 de 2003 | Xalapa • Veracruz • México |
Publicación
Semanal |
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Happy
Birthday Grandma:
On learning from our elders Jay Bildstein |
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can be no doubt that Ann Ader, as she turns 101 years of age, is an
extraordinary person who has lived through more than a century of
the greatest social upheaval and technological change that mankind
has ever confronted. Born Hankah Waldman in the town of Tarnobrzeg
near Krakow in Poland, in what was formerly known as the Austro-Hungarian
Empire, the young Hankah dealt with the hardships of life early; with
the loss of her mother to Meningitis as well as a multitude of barbarities
occasioned by World War I. Hankah emigrated from Poland to the United States of America before World War II, where she started her life afresh, as Ann (the English equivalent of her Polish name) … the new world a beacon of hope to those seeking refuge from the repression and desperation that Europe in that era represented to so many. She came to the new world, an erudite person with a classical education, possessing among her spoken languages; Polish, German, Yiddish, Hebrew and French. Upon landing on the American continent she went about the hard work of learning the language of the land, which was English. By the time I knew Ann Ader her English was not only excellent, but displayed just the slightest European accent, a fresh dignified flavor to the caustic manner in which that language is often spoken in her adopted New York. I came to know her as a person of bearing in both her physical posture as well as her talents, which included speaking kindly yet directly. Turning 101 years of age this October , Ms. Ader is no longer the seemingly ageless pillar of strength who once shoveled snow in front of her home while in her 80’s, dressed in nothing much warmer than a thin housecoat. The ravages of Parkinson’s disease have left her confined to a much reduced universe, while the cataracts that occlude her beautiful eyes prevent her from seeing even that small space. I have no doubt though, that the goodness of her heart and the powerful intellect of her brain continue on, although signs of such are now more fleeting than ever. The heroine of our story teaches us the value of valor, persistence and bravery. Uprooted from her native land she worked hard to school herself in the language and customs of her new country. That is a particularly salient lesson for me here in Mexico, as a foreigner who sees the necessity to absorb the linguistic and cultural bounty that this great nation has to offer. I often look to Ann for guidance, without picking up the phone to call and speak to her. Phone conversations have been impractical for some time, the vicissitudes of infirmity have seen to that , yet I dialogue with her mentally about the challenges we must surely have in common. In my pantheon of heroes she is not the only one, for there are Irma and George and Ludwig. Those three valiant souls also transcended the boundaries of nation-states and in so doing went about the hard work of studying, in some senses academically, in many ways through practical use, the language, manner and customs of their newly adopted homelands. Ann and George and Irma and Ludwig are my grandparents. The precious treasure of their collective knowledge now resides in my own memories as well as the memories of the rest of my family. Ann, the last living of those forebears, maintains her dignified posture now, not through her once upright bearing or her sweet direct speech, but by her sheer tenacity and manifest will to live. There is no need to be flowery. Simply put, she is an inspiration. The strong cultural ethos and respect that is given to families here in Mexico makes me confident that these words I write shall fall not on blind eyes nor deaf ears. Our families and our elders in them, are the truest measure of living knowledge; a feast that we can partake of to nourish ourselves in the face of inevitable periods of social famine and intellectual failing. Those who have gone before us have, in many respects, blazed for us a clean trail, themselves forced to do so by the circumstance of having to tread through the wilds, many times without a path. It is incumbent upon us then, to honor our elders by seeking the fountain that is their wisdom and imbibing from it. To ignore or forget what they have gone through and accomplished in their lives would be to waste a precious resource, an opportunity for us to learn through their necessitated intrepidness. Our families provide for us the trees which we may climb to gain a greater perspective on our world. The elders of our families provide for us the unshakeable roots which keep our feet on terra firma in times of existential doubt. For all that and more I thank my grandparents. Happy Birthday Grandma. By the way, have I ever told all of you about my parents ? |
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