New York City, 1989
“What about my life now, Lilly?” Helen had begun, “My life is a different story altogether. I do not believe you can understand it. I should make an exhibit of paintings. Then there would really be something to see. They have to have another exhibit about heritage? I am glad you are painting and that you have exhibits, but to me this is ridiculous. They will laugh at you if you say you are like what I came from, there is no connection whatsoever. I am a survivor and I don’t lean on strangers for help. You were not a part of me anymore when all this happened.
“You had to have your own war, fine. Don’t see me anymore until you are ready. You need your own identity. I can understand this. I am not as stupid as you think I am. I understand you children more than you realize.
“I will read the letter you wrote me when they took you away to that institution now that somebody is listening to me for a change. But you cannot play this tape for anyone. I don’t want my family in Israel to know what went on here. Many days I looked out this window in this apartment now and thought: Jump! It was not that I traveled all the time and abandoned you. What was that to accuse me of purposely trying to keep you suffering? Then they said you took those pills because you were angry at me? I can only...
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