My mum, who knows that I'm nervous about Flynn's surgery, found some old family photos to send me today, to remind me of our history and of how our family was formed. This photo was taken in Holland just after my mother was born. She was in the bassinette behind my grandmother, who's on the right dressed all in white. That's my handsome grandfather on the left, and my great-grandmother in the middle. My mother remembers that my grandfather never, ever picked up the cats and that he must have been coerced on this occasion for the photo. She also remembers that, not three years later, the family would be scattered when Hitler invaded Holland - my grandparents fleeing to France and eventually to the United states, where my grandfather was able to find wartime work as an engineer.
And this chubby creature is me as a toddler on the beach at Martha's Vineyard. Look at the big pouf of muppet-hair!
When your nerves are on edge, it is somehow always comforting to look back at family history. Puts everything in perspective a bit. Reminds me of a line from John Le Carré's novel The Night Manager:
"I need the comfort of eternity."