Page 7 of Who We Think We Are

Then, Kate sends an email to her cousin Tamara Van Dijk in Holland:

Hi Tamara,

Oma died yesterday. I’m coming to Utrecht to visit. I should be there by tomorrow or the next day. May I stay on your houseboat? Not sure of the arrival time or when I’ll be leaving. I’ll send you more details when I have them.

Thanks,

Kate

Kate reads back the email she sent to Tamara. That sounds cold. Oh, well. I can’t be bothered to nice it up.

Next, Kate texts Esther, Suze’s daughter, who is a student starting at UBC: “Hi Sugar, I’m going to Holland.

The girls are away at school, and Jake is working in Edmonton.

Will you house-sit and take care of Coco?

I thought you might appreciate a house all to yourself for a bit! Love, Aunty Kate xoxx.”

Then, Kate sends an email to Bob Brown, the COO of Canamine:

Hi Bob,

I will be taking the rest of September off. My grandmother died, and I need to go to Holland to take care of family business.

Thanks,

Kate Hathaway

Chief Control Officer, Canamine International

By the time Jake gets up at 7:30 a.m., Kate is on a Zoom call with Mikelia.

“I’m coming to Europe as we discussed, Mikelia. I’d love to get together sometime.”

“I’ll help any way I can. I’m fluent in German, if that helps at all. I’d love to see you, too. Let’s talk once you get over here.”

“Sounds good. Ill reach out in a few days.”

When Kate hangs up, Jake makes himself some coffee and tea for Kate and sits across from her at GG’s table. “Kate, I can see that you’re avoiding grief by being in hyper to-do mode. But can we please slow this down and have a conversation?”

“Jake, I’m not. There are a lot of things to take care of before I leave.”

“I can see that, and that’s part of what I want to talk about. I’ve made you a cuppa. Can we sit down and talk? You choose the spot.”

Kate sighs. “OK, Jake. Let’s sit here.”

“Not here with your computer and all this stuff to distract you.”

“Oh, so you didn’t mean I could choose the spot. I can see how this conversation is going to go.”

“Kate, you’re being pissy to avoid a conversation you don’t want to have. Be reasonable and talk to me, your husband. Remember me?”

“How could I forget? You’re right in front of me, in my way.” Kate sighs. “OK, let’s sit at the breakfast nook.”

When they’re seated, Jake takes a sip of his coffee and starts, “Can you please tell me why you’re in such a rush to go to Holland?

What do you hope to accomplish? I get that it was shocking to hear about Oma, but what can you do for her now?

And please tell me the real reason, not your ‘I’m irritated, and you’re in my way’ reason. ”

“OK.” Kate takes a deep breath, sips her tea, and looks out the window at GG’s garden for a moment.

“But first, you need to know that you, Grandad, and I are the only ones who know about Oma’s past. You must give me your word that you will not tell anyone else.

Not the girls, not your friends, not Suze, not Dad, no one. ”

“Kate, it’s going to get out.”

“Your word, Jake. No one. I mean it. Yes, the truth will be out eventually, but I need to do damage control. So, before I say anything else …”

“My word. OK, I give you my word.”

“Pinky swear.” Kate reaches out her hand with her pinky aimed at Jake.

“Come on, Kate.”

“Pinky swear. We’ve done that for every vow we’ve ever made, and this is a vow.”

“OK, I pinky swear,” Jake says as they lock pinkies. He tries to hold Kate’s hand, but she pulls it back.

“I wasn’t just shocked about Oma, Jake.” Kate takes another sip of tea. “I was shaken to the core. Everything I thought I knew about my family was tilted on its axis.”

“But Kate …”

Kate holds her hand up to stop him. “You asked, Jake, and I’m answering you.

Now drink your coffee and listen. I didn’t realize how much my identity was wrapped up in how GG and Suze’s family helped Jewish refugees get out of Germany and helped refugees when they arrived in Canada.

Grandad, Uncle Doug, and Uncle Szymon fought in the war, and Oma was in the resistance.

I always felt so good that I came from heroes. It was who I thought I was.

“Learning this about Oma makes me question who I am. What and who my family was. Did I inherit evil? For the first time in my life, I am having a hard time looking Suze, Tante Arela, and Bubbie in the eye. I feel ashamed of something I didn’t even do. It’s hard to put it into words.

“Then I started thinking about our nonprofit. What damage will this cause? We have a PR campaign leading up to a major seventieth anniversary celebration and fundraiser on January 27, freaking International Holocaust Remembrance Day! And I’m the most visible board member.

We need the funds to be able to help new refugees.

“So, yeah, I’m extremely concerned. I need to find out the whole truth so I know how to navigate a potential shitstorm. I can see the headlines now: ‘Refugee Nonprofit Organization President is a Nazi.’”

“Kate, I …” starts Jake, but he stops.

Kate isn’t listening. She looks out the bay window at the sun starting to hit GG’s garden.

It is so beautiful. I wish I could turn the clock back.

But if I could turn it back, where would I turn it back to?

Nope, there’s no turning back. No do-overs.

She turns her gaze back to Jake. “I’m not asking for your permission or even your opinion, Jake.

I’m going to do what I think needs to be done.

You asked why, and I told you. That’s the end of it. ”

“But Kate, now you need to hear me out. Kelli is struggling at school. Something is bothering her. She needs us.”

“For God’s sake, Jake, she’s only been there for ten days. She’s homesick. Stop being a helicopter parent. Also, I’ve arranged for Esther to stay here and take care of Coco so you can go back to Edmonton.”

“Without asking me? You didn’t even think of asking me what I wanted? I’m going to stay home and work.”

“You’re working in Edmonton. It’s better for you to be there anyway.”

Jake sighs and closes his eyes. “You never stop controlling, Kate. You’re not just content to control everyone and everything in the present. Now, you’re going overseas to control everyone and everything in the past, too.”

Kate stands up. “This conversation is over. Stay, go, I don’t care. Just make sure you let Esther know. And let me get ready to leave in peace. I knew if I told you the truth, you’d use it against me.”

Kate takes Coco for a walk, and by the time she’s back, Jake has left for Edmonton. Thank God, and good riddance! She is upstairs in her room packing when Suze lets herself in and calls out, “Hello!”

“I’m upstairs, Suze. Come on up!”

Suze walks into Kate’s bedroom, and when she sees piles of clothes and a suitcase on the bed, she says, “So it’s true. You’re going to Holland. Esther told me you texted her. Were you planning on letting me know?”

“Of course, Suze. Sorry. I just got busy with things this morning. I couldn’t sleep. You know how I get.”

“Um, yeah, I do! When are you leaving?”

“Tonight, at midnight.”

“Tonight! We have our board meeting tomorrow night! You and I are presenting on the PR campaign and the celebration, remember? Can’t you wait at least a day?

I don’t know why you’re going let alone why it’s like you’re running from a fire.

This doesn’t add up. You’re being weird.

Talk to me, Kate.” Suze moves a pile of clothes and sits on the bed.

“You’re right.” Kate sits in her reading chair. “I’m sorry, Suze. In my rush, I forgot all about the board meeting. Hang on a sec.” Kate texts Liling to book the flight for tomorrow night instead.

Kate takes a deep breath and looks at Suze.

She’s been preparing this half-truth/half-lie all morning, and it must be good because Suze is no fool.

“I’m going to Holland because if I don’t do something, I will lose my ever-loving mind.

First, the dreaded empty nest, then the hateful, spiteful suicide note, and then Oma dies. Oh, and Jake and I had a big fight.

“Grandad and Dad are planning a celebration of life. They don’t want my help.

So, I’m going to Holland to learn more about Oma’s childhood.

It’s pathetic how little we know. I’m ashamed I didn’t show more interest when she could still tell me some of her memories.

I’m going to talk to her brothers to get stories and see if they have any pictures.

Or at least I can take pictures of where she lived and the countryside.

I’ll make a slideshow, or a collage, or a video, or something.

“I have to do something productive with my grief, Suze.”

“OK, I can understand that.”

“I’ve been going through GG’s Holocaust letters, and some will help us with the presentation.

There are letters between GG and Saul and Sarah from when Bubbie introduced them, and GG offered to help them; there’s a letter from GG enlisting the help of her pen pal network, family, and friends.

Then there’s a letter from a few years later, when Sarah went into hiding and Saul joined the resistance, and some letters from the early days of Grandma’s Table. I’ll email them to you.”

“OK, those sound great. One more thing, Kate. Our annual Tashlich Lite ritual.”

Kate has prepared for this half-lie/half-truth, too, but this one is trickier.

Tashlich Lite is a version of the Jewish atonement ritual Kate and Suze do every year during the ten days of repentance between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

They started when they were kids. They go to the beach with a loaf of bread and break off chunks to throw in the water.

With each chunk, they apologize for every shitty thing they said, thought, or did to each other that year.

The seagulls go so crazy that they often can’t even hear each other.

Kate can’t say the real reason she doesn’t want to do their ritual: My sins and my family’s sins against you are so egregious and immense that I can’t tell them to you .

What she tells Suze instead is, “I just can’t face it this year. I am so sorry, Suze. My grief is too much right now. I can only focus on things I need to do to get ready to leave, and now I have to prepare for the board meeting, too.”

Kate feels like a complete and utter piece of shit when Suze says, “Alright, Kate. Just know you have my blanket forgiveness for anything you’ve ever done, thought, or said, and I love you.”

We’ll see about that .

“I love you too, Suze. And you have my blanket forgiveness, too.”

I feel like I have to throw up.

After Suze leaves, Kate sends a text to Paige and Kelli: “Hello lovelies, I just wanted you to know I’m leaving for Holland tomorrow night.

I need to keep moving, or I’ll fall apart.

I need to do something for Oma, so I’ll talk to her brothers and get some stories for her eulogy. Hope you’re both well. Love, Mom xoxx.”

There’s one more thing Kate needs to do other than pack and prepare for her presentation: say goodbye to Grandad.

As she drives to see him, she passes Queen Elizabeth Park, with its sweeping lawn, trees, and rose gardens, and tears up when she remembers the times GG and Oma took her there.

She stops to pick up fish and chips for lunch.

When she walks into Grandad’s room, he doesn’t hear her.

He’s sitting in Oma’s wheelchair, hair disheveled, still in his pajamas, with Oma’s favorite blanket over his legs, holding his wedding picture and looking out the window at the flowers in the courtyard with silent tears rolling down his face.

Kate gasps. It’s the saddest thing she’s ever seen.

“Hi, Grandad.” She drops their lunch on the table, rushes over to him, and gives him a big hug.

“Oh, hi, Katie. Thanks for coming to see me. I’ve been torturing myself with the sweetness of life with Oma. But I can do that anytime. You’re here now. You brought fish and chips?”

“Yup.” Kate wipes Grandad’s and her tears with a napkin that smells like deep-fried cod. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really.” Grandad pushes himself out of Oma’s wheelchair. “But I suppose I should eat. Let me put some clothes on.”

“Good idea. I’ll set the table.”

When Grandad joins Kate, she serves him his lunch. They sit quietly for a while, munching their fish and chips.

“I’m booked to fly to Amsterdam tomorrow night, Grandad, but maybe I should stay here with you.”

“No, Katie, go. Go and dig up the truth about Oma. I’m sad beyond measure, but I’m OK.

It would be strange not to be sad when you’ve lost the love of your life.

” He takes a few more bites of his lunch, thinking.

“And while I love seeing you, this grief is something I need to feel alone. I know you’ve lost your grandmother, but I’ve lost my wife.

I will never be anyone’s number one person ever again. ”

Kate catches her breath. “You’re my …”

But Grandad shakes his head. “No, Katie. You’ve got Jake and Paige and Kelli, and that’s as it should be. Grieving is not a bad thing. It’s a privilege. One of us had to go first. I’m glad it’s me, not Oma, having to go through this grief. At least I can do that for her.”

Grandad pushes back his plate. “That’s all I can eat. Let’s have a piece of Oma’s chocolate in memory of her.”