Watching my mother
Watching her siblings in the film
Their memories of pain in childhood
Their recounting accomplishments with no self-awareness
The aristocracy of spirit shining through
The humility apparent
This is the genetic stuff that infuses my cells
The narrative that is the very mitochondria of my soul
These stories are the Torah she be’al Peh of Sargon dynasty
My only access to explaining how and why I think the way I do
Their legacies burned in suffering
Now inform me of my patterns of thought and relating to the world
As I peek at the pictured albums they leaf through
And talk of “the twins” present as tiny dark skinned creatures
Their eyes bewildered at a world they cannot understand
Restrained and as yet struggling to be still in front of the camera
I was one of those twins in those black and white pictures
Some 60 odd years ago
Yet in a way nothing has changed
My eyes still look out in bewilderment
Although now
Despite the books and philosophies
The pessimism already there is more polished.
The tragic view of everything is magnified
And the horror at other people’s pain
Reflected in Eric’s sensitive responses.
Mum’s impish delight at being free of her shackled life
And repeated incredulity at Becky’s detailed recounting of events.
Becky’s memory for details over 80 years ago with such clarity
Eric’s self-doubt as to why after all these years the pain of the brutal
Beatings and starvation, the childhood abuse he suffered
Would bring him to sudden tears decades later
Yet all three share the burning sense that life must be worked at
Every minute a precious opportunity not to be wasted
Every task to be accepted
Permeates all three.
I come away with a deep gratitude for their lives lived before me
And how my very makeup is connected
through genotypic and phenotypic mirrors
Reflecting in oblique and not direct ways
The prison of my soul.
Interpreting the world and the self needs such a prism
So that one can be aware of the distortions
That color ones’ perceptions.
“Aah! that is why I react in such a way”
“Aah! that explains my deep response to this”
“Aah! This needs further soul repair.”
All the aha’s are thanks to the reflections and mutual interactions
Of their lives and interpretations and distortions of their memories
Painted on a canvas of momentous 20th century events
Of Empire, The Raj, Christian education,
WWII London, and post War rebuilding
A larger than life epic that suits
the larger than life Sargon dynasty
