Letters from My Father
And the Healing They Brought Forth Forty Years Later in the Midst of Searching for My Ancestors
by
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Chapter One: The Roots of the Journey
Walter ran up the walk and sat down on the front stoop, his small frame being over-powered by the old wooden steps. He sat there in the innocence of childhood, staring up at the trees, his eyes following the sounds of the birds nearby. Walter broke into a smile of pure delight as he spotted one way, way up. Pointing upward, he broke into giggles and was off running and jumping, and trying to fly.
As Greta stood and watched, she was so taken in by this little boy’s delight. Her heart felt a wave of sadness as Walter ran up and took her hand. He stood for a moment, looked up at Greta, and was off again running and looking for sticks to play with. It was almost as if he needed reassurance that she was still there.
Bertha lay sleeping in her bed, exhausted. She had not been well for a while now, and it was hard to focus on the days’ routine even when she was awake. Her brother, Charles, had been taking care of her since she fell ill…three months ago? Four?
She longed to hold her son. Bertha grieved at the thought of losing him. Sadness filled her heart, and in her exhausted state, it was too much to bear. Knowing he would be taken care of brought some comfort, but not enough to bring peace. There was no energy for tears.
Walter, now dirty from playing, again ran to the front porch and joined Greta on the top step. He did not know what sadness was, but I was pretty sure he felt it on his heart.
I wanted to hold him, comfort him, hug him and love him. He was barely three. I could not bear to think of what lie ahead, but there was nothing I could do. I wanted to meet Greta, and her husband, Anton. I could not. All I could feel was the sadness in what I envisioned before me. Me heart went out to Bertha, and I wished I could have known her, too.
None of this was meant to be. I would only meet Greta, Anton, Bertha, and Charles on paper—in search of my father’s family…my roots, my ancestry. I would meet Walter (Sr.), my father, when he was in his fifties, on the day that I was born.
The above was only a minute part of what I imagined my father’s life to be. I believe I carried the emotions within me, ever since I was very little, despite not knowing about his early life. It was generational. Handed down, waiting to be healed. It had been over 100 years since my father’s story began, and it was only now that it was coming to light and life. He story was just beginning to unfold as I began the journey in search of my father’s roots—my heritage.
My father passed away when I was in my twenties, and at that age I was not thinking about family history. That was something I would come to regret. Oh, how I wish I had talked to my father more about his family.
There are so many things about me, and my life, that came to fruition in the midst of this long-awaited journey. I was not even aware of what it would all mean until my search began to take root, and I began to feel more grounded. This was an emotional journey of the unknown, as well as one of faith.
What began as a search for my ancestors (another book in itself) transcended into an unexpected journey of compassion, understanding, and unconditional love.
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About the Book
As unresolved issues carried from one generation to the next, author Suzanne L. Holko tried to make sense of her family’s situation. She began rereading the letters her father, Walter, had written to her while she was attending college forty years earlier. She also began searching for her father’s ancestors, connecting her with newfound relatives.
In Letters from My Father, Holko tells how the intertwining of these events led to a story of understanding, acceptance, forgiveness, and unconditional love. She shares how comprehending the details of her father’s life and what unfolded within her search gave light to the generational wounds unintentionally handed down through her father’s ancestors. She also reveals how she gained further awareness to the challenges faced within her own life and the obvious parallels within both her father’s life—and the grandfather she never knew.
Letters from My Father describes Holko’s spiritual journey, the healing that occurred, and the blessings that were gained. She received a renewed understanding of “all in God’s timing” and the joy found within acceptance and unconditional love.
About the Author
Suzanne L. Holko is a teacher by trade and is also the author of Grampy and Me. She lives in Connecticut with her husband, Paul.