My mother-in-law Naomi Szinai died this past Saturday, of complications from an obstructed colon and of heart failure, in the Royal Free Hospital in London. She was 87.
She lived a life, a journey that we need to remember.
Her family was descended from world-renowned Torah scholar rabbis on her mother’s side (I believe). Her father’s side was also descended from rabbis, and her father had received rabbinic ordination (smicha), but practiced his career as a doctor in a town about the size of Greenfield, MA (my home town), in rural Hungary.
For the first few years of her life, she was fairly well off, middle class. Her father was one of two doctors in the town, relied on by all in the town. She had a close family. There was some anti-semitism in Hungary in the 20′s and early 30′s, with a fascist government in power, but it was manageable.
When Hitler came to power first in 1933, and then later consolidated power and began instituting persecutions of the Jews in Germany and later Austria and Czechoslavakia, Hungary was one of the independent allies of nazi Germany. Still, Jews’ life did not change as significantly. There was more social permission to express anti-semitism, and suppressive laws were introduced, and enforced more vehemently. The Hungarians did not initiate the zeal of genocide that the nazis instituted. (In 1944 though, Eichmann remarked that the Hungarians were more enthusiastic to ship the Jews out to the camps than even the Germans or Poles). Even though her father was not legally permitted to practise as a physician, he still practiced under the table and for barter (one of two doctors in a town of 20,000. Somehow they thought that it was better to have only one doctor, than two doctors one of whom was a Jew). Jews were permitted to live in their homes and partially practice their professions and own some personal property. Noone was herded into ghettos like in Poland or elsewhere.
My mother-in-law and her two younger siblings went to school, oriented to science more than religion or anything else.
In 1944, Germany grew impatient with Hungary, that their fascist government wasn’t suppressive enough, and invaded.
It appeared that they did so mostly to complete their genocide of Jews and Gypsies.
The very young, old, ill, dissident, “deviants”, were shipped to Auschwitz and other death camps. The young were put to work.
My mother-in-law and family worked in slave camps (I don’t know the details). In late 1944, when it became obvious that the Germans would lose the war, they expedited their genocidal efforts, and organized “forced marches” of the former slave labor to the death camps. My mother-in-law had gotten separated from her father and brother, but her mother and sisters were with her. During the march to the death camp, my mother-in-law organized a small escape, and slipped away, arranged false papers, shelter, and food for her family.
My simple worrying mother-in-law. Survived.
The area where she was was liberated by the Russians, but the Russians basically abandoned the people they had liberated, and she was able to get her family to the US sponsored displaced persons camp.
Following the war, she tried to return to her former town and home, but the home was occupied. Even though rented, the new residents refused to give back any of the stolen belongings (clothes, furniture, animals) and the returning refugees were chased from their towns, some killed.
In the big city of Budapest, they could find a way to survive. There was a large Jewish community, somewhat of an economy, and Jews were again permitted to attend university.
She studied (I don’t have a clue how she financed it), and earned a degree. She met her husband (who died before I married my wife) in Budapest at university.
In that time, Hungary adopted communism (in a corrupt process). A large number of the communist officials were Jewish. Still, practicing Jewish rituals and religion was prohibited.
My mother-in-law arranged for members of her family to travel overland to Italy, and after Israel achieved independence, traveled to Israel and was one of the pioneering youth.
Her father served in the Israeli public health service. Her husband received a PHD from the Hebrew University in chemistry, and they lived in a garage on an army base, I think near Jaffa. They were poor, food was rationed. Even with their relatively prominent positions, they lived in some deprivation. The time was heady, inspiring, motivating.
But, there was terror, and overt war. My wife’s father was some combination of haunted, ambitious, impatient, authoritative, and after serving in the 56 war, arranged a position with a pharmaceutical firm in England. The family moved there (with my wife, then 1 year old).
My mother-in-law was a housewife and mother for a few years, but later took professional positions in government and public health where they resided.
The family moved frequently due to her husband accepting research and then professorship positions in pharmaceutical chemistry in different parts of England, then Gainesville, Florida.
I don’t think my mother-in-law liked moving so frequently, particularly to Florida. (My wife didn’t.) After her husband died from either a freak accident or questionable cause of death (noone knows exactly), she moved to London to a predominately Jewish upper middle class neighborhood where she lived for the last thirty years.
In London, she was home. There were many Hungarian speaking neighbors and friends, little crime, good local shopping and public services nearby.
Over time, illnesses first restricted her movement. (She suffered a hip breakage in her 70′s, then a two botched hip replacements.) She had heart problems. Then the most unpleasant malady over an extended period was severe intestinal problems over a few years.
When I last saw her in 2009, she was gaunt, grey, weak, old. A very different woman, outwardly, than I knew from visiting previously (only a few times sadly).
Speaking to her on the phone when she grew weaker and weaker upset me. I knew she was dying.
Although Naomi and I did not get to spend much time together physically, I felt sincerely very close to her. We talked often on the phone. I was often a mediator between my wife and her. I loved that we would call each other just to speak with each other, not to speak to my wife, not about some family drama, not about my kids, just us. I considered Naomi as one of my closest friends, honest, unpretentious.
Knowing a little of my mother-in-laws experience, my son inquired into the history of the holocaust at around 18. He visited Israel and Yad Vashem, and it affected him severely emotionally, reading the names in the MANY volumes there. (I’ve never been to Yad Vashem.)
When he returned from Israel, he moped around a bit, talking often about nagmama (Hungarian for grandmother) and in despondent tones. I told him that the most important part of her life, was that following her traumas, she LIVED. She didn’t respond with despondency, but with care and vitality.
She did not adopt hatred in response to her experience. Even though Hungarian neighbors cheered as her family was driven to the camps, she doesn’t think of Hungarians as evil, complicit. Partially because she was saved by brave Hungarian families that sheltered them after her escape.
Similarly, she did not adopt a hatred of Arabs, even though she experienced wars and animosity.
In the few days of sitting Shiva that I was able to attend, a few family members and others that knew her in Hungary and Israel came by. I heard different, but similarly chilling and inspiring life stories. Her brother Imre. Cousins whose names I don’t remember, one of which is a hasid from a different sect from my son. A few neighbors.
Not a movie script story. A life story.
Thank you for living. Thank you for being a close friend. Thank you for birthing and parenting my wife. Thank you for your financial help at times. Thank you for appreciating and helping my children.
Good-bye. Rest in peace.
My condolences.