a word for my ancestors

photo by Wendy Grudin

In the past tens of thousands of years our forbears have done a lot that we have no idea about and probably never will. Long, long ago we were all pretty much cousins and we may as well still be. Saying that and feeling that are two very different things. Religious beliefs are enough to make two different people at odds. Language barriers, even small ones, are enough to create huge misunderstandings.

I think of my ancestral past from time to time. Sometimes they help me understand how I got so crazy. Other times they help me understand how my parents got so crazy too. Then, other times yet, by being aware of their own struggles and values, I remember to maintain my own.

Two of my ancestors come to my mind a lot these days. They are my mother's grandfathers, both of which she never got to meet. Hans and Kurt. One was a general of the German army from 1930-1934 who is remembered for his desire to take out the fuehrer, being "extremely hostile to the Nazi Party," so much so that he was relieved from duty.


Hans, my other maternal great-grandpa, was assasinated in 1920 by right-wing Germans because he fought for what he believed in during a time of extreme political repression. He was a conservationist, an internationalist, an anti-racist. Rosa Luxemborg was apparently a fan of Hans (see the link below).

Then my paternal grandparents and their parents who are less documented. My last grandparent, Abraham, is pictured above. He is a wonderful grandpa (in his nineties!) and lives with Wendy and Pat in Colorado (hey guys!). Someday I will write about that side of the family too, for there is a lot to be written, but now I must rest.

Link about Kurt

Link about Hans