She Never Asked...

When Ariel (a good friend that I met through the internet) and I discovered we both had Iraqi origins, and that both our grandmothers were from Baghdad, we were astonished. I live in Lebanon, and he lives in Israel (virtually, a Jupiter and Mars distance) and our grandparents could’ve been neighbors!
Thanks to Ariel, I discovered that my favorite dish (a dish that no one in my circle of friends has ever heard of, made from Hallumi cheese and red lentils) is Iraqi and not Turkish, like my mother pretended.
I wonder if it was a deliberate attempt to muffle everything related to my grandmother’s origins…?

My mother doesn’t want to get into all of this. She will defend the Jews from all her heart, but for some reason, never felt attached to all this. As if the battle was never hers.
When I first started showing some interest for Judaism, we had strong clashes. We still have, especially on politics.
She never asked my grandmother questions about her origins or about Judaism. So today, when my grandmother was recounting to me how they used to buy kosher meat from a butcher in Beirut, and how they used to have Shabbat lunch altogether with her family even after she got married to my grandfather (who isn’t jewish), my mother discovered her early Jewish life. She used to eat only kosher meat, and she used to observe Shabbat!
“You never asked!” said my grandmother…