Gemini Girl

I was reading a great post on Mike’s blog about family rifts, and it reminded me of a story.

 

Yemen, 1933

“A”- a young Jewish girl of 12, loses her father.

Tragedy to some, but completely horrific for others.

During this time, Yemen was a Muslim country. If a child was considered orphaned (losing his or her father- even if the mother was alive) then the state can take the child away and place them in a Muslim home and convert them. The girls fate was even worse. They could be married to older, Muslim men. Men old enough to be their grandfathers. Girls as young as 9 were married off.

 

 ”A” was frightened, and rightfully so. The state did get a hold of this information and was to take her into custody.

 

But what would they do? There must be something they could do to save her.

 

The one loophole to saving “A” was not one she wanted.

 

“A” was to be married off to her much older, widowed cousin (28 years her senior), because a “woman” who was married was considered owned property and could not be taken away.

Of course, he was to be humane- as he promised he would not “touch her” until she became a woman (aka started menstruating).

 

Two years  into the marriage- at the age of 13- she got her period.

 

One short year later, she gave birth to their first child a daughter named Miriam.

 

“A” was 14 years old.

 

Her mother had passed away during this time and no one was there to teach her how to raise a child. She felt disconnected, and never felt a bond with her first born.

 

“A”’s husband had a daughter “T” from his first marriage (his wife died) who was around the same age as his young bride. “T” witnessed “A”s coldness towards her daughter and began to raise Miriam as if she were her own. “T” gave Miriam the love and support that she was not receiving from her own mother.

 

Years passed, and “A” birthed 10 more children- 9 of which survived.

 

As she became confident as a mother, so did she begin to bond with her children.

 

Of course, she never truly bonded with Miriam.

 

Miriam was the oldest sister of 10, and helped raise her siblings. She was also the apple of her father’s eye- and he tried his best to give her all the love that she did not receive from her mother.

 

“A” is my great-grandmother.

 

Miriam was my beloved grandmother.

 

I grew up knowing my great-grandparents. It was a beautiful thing to be in the presence of your roots- where you really came from.

 

My grandmother was always hurt by her mother’s lack of love towards her- even until her dying day (last year).

My great-grandmother always played favorites- always. She would attend her other grand-children’s & great- grandchildren’s weddings (as in the grand kids from her favored children)- but never my grandmother’s celebrations.

 

This means she never attended my mother’s wedding- nor any of her 7 sibling’s weddings. This also means that when I got married 3 years ago in Israel (where she lives)- she didn’t attend.

 

When I was going around giving out invites to my wedding (which is what you customarily do in Israel) my husband and I went to visit my great-grandmother. I gave her an invitation knowing that she would NOT attend. She always says she’s “not feeling well and is sick”- but how is it that she manages to  feel well for her other offspring’s festivities? Plus the woman is like a cockroach- she has managed to outlive 4 of her children.

 

I gave her an invitation out of respect for my grandmother who would have been very hurt if I had not.

 

Of course- she didn’t show up.

 

I resent her for not showing up.

 

I always craved a picture of all 4 generations: my great-grandmother, my grandmother, my mother and I. This never happened, as my grandmother passed away last year- and we were never all in the same place at once- and never will be.

 

I never got any warmth from my great-grandmother.

 

I know she had a very hard childhood.

 

But I don’t think she deserved my grandmother’s love.

 

My grandmother was constantly buying clothing and jewelry for her mother as gifts. I believe she was trying to buy her love. Alas, this was to never be.

 

My grandmother died of Pancreatic cancer last year.

 

Yes, my great- grandmother sat Shiva, and mourned the death of her eldest daughter. Yes, she cried. I just hope she truly felt the loss of- by far- the most amazing daughter/mother/grandmother a person could ever have been lucky enough to know.