From a dear friend

Amongst the sharing of happy news and reflections of the High Holy days was the obvious deep sadness and anger following the deadly attack (which we had been expecting) that took place in Manchester yesterday. In my beloved Britain (where two of my grandparents, both my parents and I were born) the acts of verbal and physical antisemitism which are taking place in the communities where we live and to whom we contribute, is a reflection of the weakness of successive governments and councils. I know from the many messages of concern and solidarity from non Jewish friends up and down this land on October 7th and yesterday on our holiest day of Yom Kippur, that the silent majority is not to blame. Perhaps their silence has contributed to our feelings of abandonment but this is not deliberate just the way that ordinary people (like us) try to live their everyday lives.

I blame the politicians who pander to extremists of the left and right and factional interests to save their own seats and pathetic parties.

The bouquet below speaks to the heart of the silent majority, decent, kind and tolerant British people – some born here, others immigrants who embrace this wonderful island and its culture and tolerance. I will be sorry to be pushed out but, as I wrote in my book “Jews Milk Goats”, antisemitism is not a new phenomenon nor, sadly, will it ever be erased.

She left us just three days before Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022. She was spared from seeing the destruction and death there and later in Israel and Gaza and the endless misery of war in Sudan and in too many other regions around our planet.

Mum was a woman who was kind, full of fun, hard working, loyal, attractive and, as her 98 year old friend said to me on Friday, “She always had a wonderful personality”.

I could write much more but her life is better read in her own words in my new book which will be published later this year along with Dad’s story in his own words. They lived through decades of history which encompassed a world war and huge changes in society seen through the eyes of two people who lived life to the full.

My cousin just sent me a photo of this postcard which she found in a box of old letters and photographs.

Seeing Mum’s handwriting(which never changed) brought a lump to my throat. She was a 21 year old bride on her first short trip abroad with her 21 year old husband who had also never before left England. Dad wrote that they were overwhelmed with homesickness on their first night in Paris but went on to have great fun. They had pitifully few clothes and just a few pounds to spend. They returned to find Dad’s parents in debt. They didn’t complain. As always they rolled up their sleeves got to work, paid off the debt bit by bit and made the most of every single day of their lives. I miss them both each day.

Now he’s making green bean dip. When he vacates the kitchen I want to make pear, apple and chilli chutney