The Things We Cannot Say

by Kelly Rimmer

Hatred was like some otherworldly beast, seeded in small acts of violence and oppression against our Jewish citizens, growing in strength as the power-hungry fed it with rhetoric and propaganda.

It’s only when I look back now with the wisdom of age that I can see that warning signs were scattered throughout our simple life even then.

To destabilize a group of people is not at all difficult, not if you are willing to be cruel enough. You simply knock out the foundations, and a natural consequence is that the rest begins to tumble. The Nazis knew this—and that’s why one of their very first tactics in Poland was to execute or imprison those likely to lead in any uprising against them.

To the invaders, they were nothing more than a resource to be exploited, but those of us left behind knew that a part of the soul of our district was being torn away.

Life has a way of reminding you that you are at the mercy of chance, and that even well-thought-out plans can turn to chaos in an instant.

Our oppression was loss without reason, and pain without a purpose.

but tonight, it’s for me. Maybe Wade is right. Maybe I am running away, but all I know is, I need comfort from him tonight and not demands, and if I can’t get those things, I’ll settle for space instead.

then, I just did it because everyone else I knew had a

I’m a confused mix of grateful, guilty and frustrated about the circumstances of my family every single day.

if I’d set out to be a stay-at-home mom. Instead, that life just kind of happened to me, and now there are some days when this beautiful home is a little like a gilded cage.

This might not be a good story, but the man telling it to me was essentially good.

there was a new depth of honesty between us—an intimacy unlike anything we’d experienced before, born in the deepest kind of vulnerability. He’d let me see him, every part of him—even his shame. And in return, I could offer only understanding and acceptance. It would be years before I’d appreciate how profound that moment was; what a relief it must have been to him.

“So you’re just going to leave me here to deal with all of this?” Mom says. It’s hard to stop my eyes from widening in shock, because suddenly I understand what this little spat is really about. Mom doesn’t care that I’m going; she cares that I’m leaving.

Tomasz’s arms tightened around me, and he raised his arm to gently begin to stroke my hair. I closed my eyes and rested against him, and he planted the softest kiss against my temple. I had never understood the phrase “draw strength” from someone until that very moment, because with the entire universe out of my control, the only thing that grounded me into silence then was the strength of his arms around me and the warmth of his body beside me.