Ironically, the US Holocaust Museum recently acquired prison files from Radom. They searched for me and found only the cover of "our" files with a reference number, because they were not processed as Jews, being arrested on false papers. I found this surprising, because my Grandmother told me that the police had ways to find out if they were Jewish. She remembered during the chaos and fear of their arrests that the Polish police ordered her husband to..."be inspected" ..demanding that he drop his pants. I cannot imagine their anger and loss of hope after being on the run for four years.
So, I wait for the documents. Each morning I climb the stairs to my writing studio carrying my espresso, Kimball my sweet dog right behind me. She tucks into her bed or spreads out on the sofa and waits while I write. Some days are easier than others and the words flow. Other days I might finish one paragraph and feel as if this project will take years and years. Some days I research and I don't write anything.
|The Studio. Dog: Kimball. Sofa: Ikea.|
Before lunch, Kimball and I usually walk for at least an hour. I've learned you can only sit and write for so long before you need a break. We wander the trails beyond our house, and I think I am the luckiest person in the world to live here. Sometimes we swim in the river, other days we visit our baby swans to see if they have shed their brown feathers and become adults, with responsibilities and places to go.
At the end of each day, my dear husband waits for me to share the days discoveries. Sometimes he reads what I've written and gives me constructive feedback. Mostly, he encourages me fervently to keep going, to stop worrying about work and career, to finish the important task I have started.