Throwing is a weak word, I jumped into the deep end without even knowing if I knew how to swim!
Sometimes there are situations, however very sad ones, during which you get to know the family again: cousins, nephews and nieces, uncles, aunts, and, sometimes, our own parents. Life and family breakdowns separate us, distance us, and we don’t always know why…

But I knew, I hadn’t forgotten! So I’m at the exit of the cemetery of Noisiel, in Seine-et-Marne. Mamma has just come down to the ground, I am here, but my mind is not there. I don’t understand why, I don’t admit to imagining the answer. Mom preferred to let herself be caught up in death rather than fight. Her separation from my father got the better of her: she stopped taking medication, she took up alcohol heavily. On this Saturday, February 18, 1984, she knows, she has understood. She is sick and, instead of calling the doctor, she goes to bed.
She is discovered by her first cousin the next morning; he still has time to talk to her, but her heart gives out very quickly. I get a simple phone call « Your mother is dead! ». The time to organize with the nanny for the care of my three children, to wait for the pass to leave Berlin, and I am in the car.
So many questions… But when I arrived in Noisiel, there was no time to think: we had to act! My father and brother, whom I haven’t seen for a little over a year, are already there. No decision has been made they are counting on me. The week is therefore busy with administrative procedures. But, above all, to go and meet the funeral home staff to organize the funeral.
When I wanted to put on the clothes I had chosen, it was too late: mom had already been « dressed ». I insisted on putting on her glasses: without her my mother couldn’t see anything! Oh, I see you smiling, but for me it was very important that she wear this accessory.
In Mom’s address book, I discovered her father’s contact information. My brother and I are more than surprised: Mom had always told us that she didn’t know where he was. But here, before our eyes, we have the address and the telephone number. Dring, Dring, I say a timid « hello » and a dry voice asks me what I want. I introduce myself and ask if it is possible to talk to my grandfather.
– « If it’s to hurt him, the answer is no!
– I think I’m going to give it to her because I’m going to tell her that her only daughter has died…
– Hi, Kinou?
– Yes grandfather, it’s me… »
The exchange is sad, heavy, painful but my grandfather confirms his coming.

Wednesday, February 22, 1984, 4:00 p.m., we are leaving the cemetery. My great-uncle, my grandfather’s brother-in-law, refuses to come with us to the local café « I have nothing to say to that one »! ». And then, the sentence that ends me :
– « Goodbye, we have nothing more to say to each other now that your mother is dead !
– … What for ?
– The most beautiful mistake I could have done was to recognize you: you are not my daughter ! »

That’s it, it’s done, it’s said! I don’t believe it, but it’s his choice… So, as soon as I returned home, in Berlin, I began the search for my ancestors, these ancestors who make up the person I am.
Is my father my father? No doubt! Well, no evidence to tell me otherwise… I searched in all possible directions; I questioned the people who were still alive at the time and who could answer me. Everyone was stunned. My paternal grandmother even suggested to me that I might have misunderstood no!
So, today, I’m positive, this incendiary sentence has allowed me to discover so many things about my family, about family exchanges, about these bonds that are woven year after year to make me a happy grandmother of five grandchildren today.
This sentence allowed me to become passionate about this genealogical, family, historical, land and geographical research. Today, not a day goes by without me having carried out one or more researches, whether personal or professional.
My father may have thought he was hurting me, but on the contrary, he did me good! After these moments of doubt and disbelief, I tell myself that I, too, like all of us, have a family. It doesn't matter what the links are: biological or administrative. The only thing that connects us is the love we can give to each other...
I have already published an article for #52Ancestors52Weeks on January 4, 2022. You can read it on Antequam, the blog of Canalblog
La version française, c’est ici…