Closing the Gap Between Dad and My Grandmother

Well, not that I have you here, what can I say that is brilliant, significant and will bring you back with a gap between your teeth?

I'm a traveler and most of my trips have been for a reason. An example of that is my quiet adventure to Ishmail, Ukraine. Back in 1902, the year of my dad's birth, Ishmail was teetering on the territorial line between Russia and Romania, depending on the political crisis of the moment. Though technically he was born in Romania, to be safe it was necessary that he, or rather his father, put Odessa, Russia on his birth certicate.

Though it was a large and thriving city in the early 1900's, when I was there 96 years later, it was a poverty doused town with few inhabitants; each one wearing empty expressions as they roamed the deserted streets. I had a reason, a purpose for going there. My russian grandmother, at the age of 22, died of an infection soon after giving birth to my dad. My grandfather, so the story goes, took off to America as quickly as possible. The 3 children were adopted by their grandparents and eventually immigrated to America.

The point of this brief scenario is that I wanted to share with you one of my 'reason' trips. it was important to me to go to Ismail and breath the air of my grandmother's last breath and my father's first. I celebrated that moment alone on a park bench reciting the prayers I brought from America.