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look any different than
the mountains where we
lived. But Grandma would
always say: “It’s such a
shame. No other country
in the world is divided,
only Germany. They took
everything away from us.”
And my mother would
always quickly motion
for me to keep my mouth
shut, so I wouldn’t bring
up Korea. I had done
that once, and Grandma
had started to cry, saying
I was a rude boy and
had no respect for my
elders, before going on
about what all she’d been
through. About fleeing
from the Baltic on foot,
from Königsberg down to
Frankfurt am Main. About
how everything I had was
thanks to her and my
Grandpa. It took at least
three weeks until she was
willing to talk to us again.
My mother forbade me
to ask Grandma what
she meant by “took
everything.” I had a
glimmer of an idea that
for her it had less to do
with personal possessions
than with former German
territories.
“My mother is a little
sensitive
about
such
things,” she commented,
and then: “She went
througha lot. AndGrandpa
was on the Russian Front.”
I was told not to ask him
about anything either.
In any case, I went to the
post office to mail the
package to Mama’s cousin
in Magdeburg, and while I
was filling out the list of
items being sent, I saw
Silvana get in the back
of the line. I said “Hello”
to her as I left, but she
didn’t respond. I waited
outside on the sidewalk,
although when she came