The Salty Taste of Tears

My mother, Sophie Black z"l, was born in Leipzig Germany in 1926.  She died in June of 2017.  This photograph of her as a young girl has always haunted me. In December, 1938 - one month after Krystallnacht - the "Night of the Broken Glass" that marked the beginning of the end for European Jewry - my mother and her parents fled Germany for America.  They left everything behind and started a new life in a new land.  She was 12 years old when they left. Eventually, she found a path of meaning and purpose in America. She earned an MA in Library Science from Columbia University in NY and served as Associate University Librarian at Northeastern Illinois University. She married the love of her life, my father, Sidney Black. She had two children -  my sister, Nina Black and me. She was the first woman president of Beth Emet Synagogue in Evanston, IL and was beloved by many.  And yet, the experience of being a refugee - of facing the terror of Nazi Germany and feeling like an outsider - never completely left her - despite all of her successes, friendships and loves.  I recently wrote this song as a tribute to her life and legacy.  If you'd like to see a video of me singing it, here's the Youtube link:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J8UN_4XYu7M

The Salty Taste of Tears
She was a refugee with glass in her shoes
Just 12 years old – scared and confused
Peeking through the curtains at American Jews
Who never walked in fear.
The dread that lived within her bones
Was birthed on ancient cobblestones
And repossessed abandoned homes
And the salty taste of tears 

CHORUS:
The dreams that kept her up at night were vague and undefined
Boulevards where yellow stars marched lockstep in straight lines
Consonants and syllables that she had left behind
The smoke that never clears
With the salty taste of tears.

She did what she was told to do
Minding all her p’s and q’s
As if compliance could undo
The past 2,000 years
She catalogued and turned the pages
A lifetime lived in different stages
Learning lessons of the ages
And the salty taste of tears.

She lived with dread as if someday
Her fragile peace might go away
She knew God’s grace just couldn’t stay
It always disappears
And all this time I’ve tried to see
And understand her legacy
That she has now bequeathed to me
With the Salty taste of tears.