The author's father and brother.
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Tosia: Chapter 8

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Portrait of a Jewish woman in her own words, written by her daughter, Felicia Graber.
Updated January 25, 2025.

In Sopot, life was more or less normal. We still used the Aryan papers because of the anti-Semitic sentiments of the Polish population. The news of the Kraków and Kielce pogroms were widespread.

One of the first things I did, as soon as I could, was to scramble one dozen eggs and eat them in one sitting without anything else. That was something I had dreamed of doing for all the years when we had scarcely enough food to keep us going. I had made a promise to myself that if I survived, as soon as it was possible, I would make myself scrambled eggs with one dozen eggs. And that is what I did.

Shlomo opened an optic and watchmaker store, the first business to open in Sopot after the war. I helped in the store. As people needed to restore their lives, go back to work, they needed glasses and watches. So, business prospered. Money was in short supply. The złoty had been devalued, and a new currency had been introduced. The name “złoty” remained, but the old złoty could not be used. As a result, people would often trade goods for services. Many came to the store with silver and gold jewelry. They wanted to either sell those because they needed money or to pay for our services in that manner. As Shlomo loved antiques, silver and jewelry, and he was very knowledgeable, we became well off very quickly.

All along, Felucja thought that Shlomo was not her father. As soldiers were returning from the front, she kept after me, “Come, let’s go and see maybe Dad will come back.” We finally told her that her dad had been killed and that I had married “uncle” Andrzej. “How come I was not at the wedding?” she asked. I gave her some excuse, and the matter was dropped.

I was always worried that we were still not safe. Beside the Polish anti-Semitism, the Communists were gaining more and more influence on the Polish government. I did not want to stay in Poland. I kept urging Shlomo that I wanted to go to the West. He, on the other hand, was quite content, loving his new life. Kayaking became his new passion as well as swimming every morning at six o’clock. Often, he took Felucja with him. He wanted to instill in her his love of sports, and she seemed to enjoy it. In addition, he loved tennis. Of course, he resumed his bridge games.

Shlomo was a real maverick, seemed to thrive on taking chances and enjoyed the challenge of outwitting the government. These were not exactly the things I enjoyed. I hated the ocean as much as he loved it. I knew nothing about bridge and was not interested in learning it. Besides, I was too nervous to even think about some of the chances he took and thrived on. All I wanted was to live a quiet, secure life without any of the excitement he craved.

He bought a beautiful German shepherd that he called Tom. This dog was the best security guard you could find. Whenever Shlomo went to the store, he gave his briefcase, which usually contained quite a bit of merchandise, to Tom. Tom would carry the briefcase in his mouth. He was fiercely loyal to Shlomo and to Felucja.

As soon as I could, I contacted the International Red Cross and tried to find out what had happened to my brother, Ignaz. I did not dare to hope that he survived. The last I heard from him was when he joined other young people and gone East to Russia.

No sooner had life became somewhat normal, I became pregnant. Shlomo was ecstatic. He longed for a boy to give his father’s name. He was convinced it would be a boy; there was no doubt in his mind. Soon after I found out I was expecting, I also became ill. At first, we did not have a diagnosis. I lost weight, was extremely nervous and irritable, and my eyes started to bulge. Later, I was diagnosed with “basedow” or Graves’ Disease.

I needed surgery, but the doctors would not do anything until after giving birth. A low-salt diet was recommended, which I followed diligently. I would not touch anything that contained salt, even baking bread at home without salt. Shlomo could not understand it. He would say, “Low salt does not mean no salt. You can enjoy some of the smoked fish that are available.” But I would not budge. Even if this would mean that my newborn would have some mineral deficiencies, I would make it up to him/her later. I was not going to take any chances.

On June 17, 1946, our son, Leon was born. When they told me I had given birth to a boy, I asked the nurse to tell Shlomo the baby was a girl. I just wanted him to be wrong for once. Thank God, our son was fine, although he did have some health issues. He was born with a double hernia and rickets. I guess the latter was because I had avoided all salt during my pregnancy. The hernia operation had to be postponed because he was too young. In addition, we would have to watch him very carefully. Doctors did not want him to cry or strain himself. Shlomo and I were shown what to do if the hernia would “come out” and it was necessary to “push it back.” However, we could not have a bris (circumcision) or give him his Hebrew name.

As my disease progressed, we hired a nurse to take care of Leon who needed extra attention and vitamins because of the rickets. She was also supposed to look after Felucja. A few months after giving birth, I went to Kraków for an operation for my Graves’ Disease. I do not remember much except that it was very delicate surgery as they had to cut in the vicinity of the vocal cords. The first thing the doctor wanted me to do when I came out of anesthesia was to just say one word, to make sure that my vocal cords had not accidentally been damaged. Thank God, I was fine.

My recuperation took a very long time. Shlomo hired a nurse to take care of me at home in Sopot. Then, we had to hire a young woman to watch Felucja, as Leon’s nurse refused to deal with her. We had a whole staff working for us.

To be continued.

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Read more by Felicia Graber.

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