I am not sure if you remember but I met cousins a few years ago that I did not know existed. My grandmother escaped Poland with one other sister, relatively early, thankfully. There were eleven children in all and a relative contacted me that was granddaughter to an unknown sister that was bombed in the Vistula forest and suffered a brain injury and somehow survived for a time, finally dying in 1941.
Her name was Ruchel. The rest of the family perished at Auschwitz. She had two children, Yosef and Munia. Yosef's daughter is Miriam.
Leslie and I met the whole clan in Los Angeles two years ago. Cousin Miriam and her husband Joseph are great photographers, they have put a book out of their work and are now retired and enjoying the fruits of their labors.
In any case, Miriam found some pictures of my family that I will share with you because face it, I share everything.
My grandfather is holding me in his arms, I am gazing back at him.
This is one of the youngest shots of myself I have ever seen.
I vaguely recall it in the recesses of my mind.
The back row, left to right, is my sister Barbara, sister Liz and my father.
My grandmother is holding my cousin Ruth Rubenstein.
My late brother Buzz is not yet born nor is my cousin Debbie Gala.
I am no longer in touch with either cousin for one reason or another.
She sent me a couple more pictures as well. Like this dated photo of my older sisters, obviously taken the same day.