The unexpected joy of recognition

A chance email from my uncle’s granddaughter led to a summer evening in a Budapest café filled with the unexpected joy of recognition. Szilvia had chosen a distinctive café with books on every wall, comfy chairs and an upright piano in a corner. Straight away, I felt at home.

We smiled and embraced, curious to finally meet each other. Szilvia was delighted to meet someone who was related to her, someone who actually knew her grandparents on her father’s side. I too was glad to make the connection, as my father would have been her great uncle. I know so little about my father’s side of the family that any link is a bond to be treasured. Szilvia clearly felt the same way.

My cousin Atti, from my mother’s side of the family, came with me and was witness to our recognition of one another. Although from different sides of the family, there was a common thread running through our little triad. The three of us share much the same sensibility. Opening up to each other came easily to us. It turns out we are all readers, lovers of music and theatre. As a gift, Szilvia brought me a Hungarian novel by an author whose work she admires. I can’t wait to read it.

Being part of a small family where secrets are archaeological, every encounter with a relative feels like fossicking for fragments of the past. Szilvia was hoping that I had some clues about her father and I was hoping she could tell me more about my father’s family. We drew blanks, cursed the secrecy surrounding both branches of our family and wept for ourselves and each other as we tried to make sense of the inexplicable gaps concerning our identity.

She told me of her childhood, the alcoholism that plagued her family the way it plagued mine and we spoke of the trauma that has been passed down from one generation to the next. Her own adult life has had its fair share of heartache but she has come through it with compassion for others and a gentleness that I admire. Like me, she questions herself and my hope for her is that she accepts herself for that wonderfully imperfect, beautiful person who she is.