The geographical history of Europe often blows my mind. Areas, regions and even entire countries are seemingly juggled between various governments, with borders being drawn and redrawn at will. Both sides of my family have been impacted by the geographical history of the land which is now known as Latvia.
We are all stories. Our stories are woven from the stories of our parents, our grandparents and so on through our ancestral trail. Some of our stories are more complex than others, their narratives ducking and weaving across and around war and trauma and flight. Some of our stories are
Both sides of my family were deeply affected by war, strangely both were impacted in some way by the Russian Revolution. My father’s family were German Balts. In the 13th Century, during the Northern Crusades, the pagan tribes of Latvia and Estonia were overpowered by Christian armies, the bulk of
I’ve written here and elsewhere, about family before and, no doubt, I will write about it again. But this week’s post is about a very special member of my family, my father’s family, our family; my cousin Wolf. Wolf passed away last week, with his wife and children next to him