May 14, 2000

Dear Moira,

This pocket watch belonged to my Grandfather Mihran . . . your great-grandfather, Opa's father. Whenever I would ask him, "Grandfather, is it time yet to go on our evening walk?" or, "Is it time yet for my radio story?", he would take out this watch from the little trouser pocket (men's trousers used to have such a pocket just below the belt line on the right side), snap it open, consult it seriously and then give me his answer. He was a friendly man who had a shaped beard and mustache, similar to Sigmund Freud's.

When I lived at the Taschdjian home for six months (I was then three years old), he invented small rituals for me. For instance, he filled the little envelope from his razor blades with a tiny chocolate chip and "sent" it to me across the breakfast table. This drove my Grandmother crazy, because she thought the flying object would upset the cream pitcher and make a mess. Also, when I would beg Grandfather for some pistachios (they were kept on the sideboard in the silver box which I have given you), he'd say to me "Eyes closed, mouth open"--I'd do so . . . and he would put his bent index finger between my teeth. The game consisted of pretending to bite the finger--thinking it was the nut--but very gently. Whereupon we'd both moan in disappointment and then he would give me the real pistachio. Very amusing for a three-year-old.

On our way to the park--built on the fortifications against the Turks in the 1500's--Grandfather would often buy me a salt pretzel. These were a yard long and wrapped in a paper tube. I loved these pretzels and I even did not mind Grandfather saying, every time: "Pretzel, where are you taking our little Sonja?"

This is the same Grandfather who would ritually slurp his Turkish coffee after every midday meal and thus vastly annoy his wife who was very intent on social etiquette. This is also the same Grandfather who was interested in the origins of words--and who described German (not Austrian) as hard and harsh as horses' hooves hitting the pavements.

Grandfather was a real patriarch. At table, he would never ask platters or bowls to be passed to him. He expected us to look out for him and to serve him the food without being asked. He is also the one who invented the phrase my Dad later used, "Darling, since you're up, get me the such-and-such."

Grandfather thought I could hear the grass grow. That I could hear and understand what the adults were saying, even though it was not meant for my ears. The more he said that, trying to discourage me, the more I paid attention to the adults' talk, but unobtrusively, so that I became quite apt, indeed.

Grandfather had one of the earliest record stores in Vienna and he was also a certified translator. He loved Italian opera and always sang arias when he shaved.

Some day when you go to Vienna, you can see the house where Mihran and Rosa lived and which now belongs to Peter Hopfinger, Tante Fela's grandson.

With love, Sonja-Mom

Next: July 2000