No Heroes: A Memoir of Coming Home

Unleashing History

I finished the first draft at two in the morning and collapsed in bed. Rita read it until five A.M. then woke me to discuss it. At seven she went to bed while I got the boys fed and dressed and off to school.

Since reading the manuscript three days ago, Rita has been profoundly depressed. She cant sleep. She cries daily. She is volatile with the kids and me. Arthur had never related his war experiences. Irene had told them vaguely, often as bedtime stories for Rita, presenting her incarceration in a glowing light.

Today I suggest we go for lunch and Rita dresses up, unusual for her. I drive to a restaurant but she begins to cry and refuses to leave the car. At home, she crawls into bed and continues crying. I bring her a cup of tea, which she refuses to drink. After several hours of her tears, I have no choice but to call Arthur.

“I need your help,” I say.

“Uh oh. What’s wrong?”

“Rita read the book. It upset her because she didn’t know what happened to you.”

“Waugh, I didn’t advertise it.”

“I know, Arthur. I understand. The thing is, Rita is upset. She’s really upset, Arthur.”

“You want I should talk to her?”

“Maybe you can tell her it wasn’t as bad as you made it sound.”

“It wasn’t, Sonny.”

“No?”

“Much worse. Much much worse. You received the highlights only.”

“Don’t tell her that.”

“Let me talk to my daughter.”

I give the phone to Rita in bed. I try to comfort Sam and James, who are worried about their mother. They have never seen her behave this way and decide it is their fault. I assure them otherwise. The fault is mine, I realize. I have unleashed history on my own family, attacked my wife with the past. I am to blame for her misery.

I hear Rita say into the phone, “No, Daddy, it’s not your fault.”

Sam and James are making cards for Rita. The bold letters say “I love you. I’m sorry.”

It occurs to me that herein lies the problem: We all feel guilt, we are all to blame. The Holocaust is humanity’s tender scar. Everyone is sorry — the Jews, the Germans, all of Europe and America. Even my children feel the scalding of the past without knowing where the burn comes from.