My husband and I are just back from a week in Newfoundland. No writing, but my mother’s story kept asserting itself.

We left very early so I was dozing on the flight to Halifax when I felt the plane turning. when I saw land features re-appear, the pilot confirmed we were circling. “We can’t land in Halifax because of fog. We are waiting to see if it clears.”

I took out a December 2016 Reader’s Digest and, scanning the index, I decided on a memoir, The Chosen Path by Allison Pick. The author recalled hearing a conversation. “My Auntie Sheila was speaking to my mother about a couple they both knew, the husband Jewish, the wife gentile. . . .  So their daughter isn’t Jewish. Because Judaism always comes from the mother.”

It caught my interest—my grandfather, my mother’s father, was Jewish and my grandmother was not. For Allison Pick it was a lightbulb moment that  made her aware of the family secret and lead her on a journey to reclaim her heritage. It wasn’t the same for me—I can’t remember a time when I did not know my mother’s father was Jewish. I also knew that my mother was not Jewish because her mother was not. Family is family; I had no idea of the implications.  Was it a family secret? I didn’t think so, but now I am looking closer.  Continue reading →