I also have or had an extended family, most of whom I never met. They were siblings of my mother or father. To my knowledge, they were all Poles. My mother had five siblings. Their parents were Tessie and Isaac. The oldest was Simcha (Yiddish for Sam) and the youngest was our mother. Uncle David was the next youngest. Our mother’s given name was Syma, and I was under the impression that she changed it to Sonia in France, but Alice says that she called herself Sonia to appear more Polish (than Jewish). The other three siblings of my mother were Manya, Sarah, and Golda, about whom I know nothing.

Our father’s parents, Abraham and Sarah, had six Children: Our father, Shmuel, actually, Wolf Samuel (1898); his sister Fela (1900); and his brothers, Jacob Aron (1902); Simcha (1904); Moshe (1906); and Zvi (1910). We also know that Jacob married Yeda, and Fela married Abraham Weinberg and had two children, Vladik and Renya. All that information tells us little but their names.

Almost all of the individuals named above were murdered in WW2. So, why am I listing the names of people I never knew? Because, according to Maimonides, the philosopher who lived almost a millennium ago, “when we speak your name you are ever alive - Maimonides”. What I think this is saying, essentially, is that you will not be forgotten. Memory is an important element of Jewish culture, but it is important as well in most cultures, as is clear from the many holidays and festivals to honor some individual or event that happened centuries ago, or more.

Among all those individuals, I personally met only two. One was Sam, who immigrated to the USA long before the war and settled in Brooklyn. And my siblings and I lived with him for a time after we landed in this country. My mother’s youngest brother (Chil in Yiddish or David in English or French) also survived. He too, migrated to France, where he survived the war. And I knew him for a certain time between the end of the war and our immigration to the States.

It makes me sad and angry that almost the entirety of my family were murdered.

I asked myself, why my parents had so many siblings. I assumed it was because of a biblical “command” namely: be fruitful and multiply. But the situation is more complicated. I had a long interchange with my son Kenny, who is very knowledgeable about those things. What is only required by the religious texts is that couples have two children. However, the answer is layered. If two children satisfy God, then more children would be even better. But, in the 19th or early 20th century in Eastern Europe, when Jews basically survived in an agrarian economy, “workers” were necessary. Sadly, too, infant or early childhood mortality was high, and not all could be assumed to survive. This is the gist of it from my point of view.