She had a painting that I am reminded of , much like this.
She was living in the times when there were Cossacks and a new war every month .. raping and pillaging. She was the only daughter with 2 brothers . Her mother died when they were children, when they were old enough, their father put them on a ship - out of Russia.
One brother went to Israel.
One brother to Argentina and she was sent to cousins in the US .. NYC .
She never talked about any of it and at the time I wondered why ... but then one day I realized, as good as life turned out to be for her, the amount of loss and heartache she lived through was mind boggling.
She never saw her family again ... one brother she visited , one came to the US to see her .. we met his children when we were living in Argentina.
All these countries , through all those crazy times, this little group of people met and got to see each other in the flesh, not just a photo .. to hear each other speak, to laugh at someone's attempts at speaking English , or Yiddish .. or Spanish !
It's funny how much you can say, without being able to speak that language or understand ...
I wish I had taken photos .. I felt they would be intrusive .. they would have been .. but to see these 3 siblings, old and wrinkled and reunited after over 50 years ... I weep at the memory.