My Mommy

It is Remembrance Day here in Canada. Every year on November 11 we remember those who died in war and those who survived fighting for the freedom that we enjoy as a way of life. I have not always honoured this special day, however, since visiting  my mother's place of birth last month, l have a new appreciation and awe of the heroic woman I called Mom. 

My Mother was 13 years old in Sept 1939 when the Germans began occupying Poland. She dropped out of school and spent the next 5 years living in the midst of all the atrocities committed against the Polish people, especially the 350,000 Jews  most of whom were put to death for no other reason than they were Jewish. As I was driven through what used to be the Jewish Getto in wartime Warsaw  last month, I could not help but recall the scenes from the movie "Shindler's List" that was made in black and white to use actual film footage of the time.

When my sister and I met relatives in Poland for the very first time last month, we were taken to the Museum of the Warsaw Rising 1944 where we made a very emotional journey through each of the 63 days that the citizens of Warsaw rose up and defied the German armies. I spent 3 hours looking for her face in the many photos and film clips. Most of the insurgents as they were called died and the city of Warsaw was destroyed and burned.  http://vimeo.com/16582392 

My 18 year old mother was among the 1000 who survived and among the thousands of Poles who spent the rest of the war in prison camps. An actual footage movie will be coming out next year to commemorate the 70th anniversary.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2397873/Warsaw-Uprising-colour-Black-white-photos-turned-incredible-feature-movie.html

She met my soldier father when  he was taking food to her refugee camp. You see, he was a butcher and had served as a cook in the army. He made the most phenomenal Polish sausage and bigos. They were married soon after and were given the opportunity to to move to any commonwealth county of their choice. They chose Canada.

My 20 year old mother was 7 months pregnant, with a toddler in tow, when she arrived at  Pier 21 in  Halifax where all those who immigrated to Canada first made port. My parents bought a small farm near Brantford Ontario. Five more babies arrived in the years to come. My mother never returned to her place of birth. She died at age 73.

I have chosen to honour my mother's memory each year at this remembrance time. She is more a hero to me now than ever before. I wish she was alive today so I could hug her and tell her how much I love her.

Blessings,
Chris