Henri

Our mom, Henrietta, early 1940s

I've been thinking a lot about our Mom, Henrietta. September 7th marks two years since we lost her, but it's not just this anniversary of her death that causes me to reflect on her life. Recently, I had the privilege to attend a meeting in Brussels, Belgium, the land of our grandparents, Irma and Leon.

Brussels, Belgium, August, 2008

Brussels is a charming city of about 1 million people. Today it is the capitol of the European Union. You hear many languages spoken on the streets. I wandered many of the streets, visited the Grand Palace, built by the guilds in the late 17th century - the Renaissance and some magnificent cathedrals. Sidewalk cafes are everywhere serving a local favorite of mussels, fries and of course, Belgian beer. The shops are filled with Belgian lace and tapestry as well as Belgian waffles and chocolate, chocolate, chocolate. I took every opportunity to sit outdoors and enjoy the sights, the people and the mussels. I thought much about our mother and grandparents.

Irma and Leon relive their immigration

Irma and Leon immigrated to the United States following World War I. Our mother was born in her house in Detroit in 1926. Her brothers served the US in World War II. Flemish was the native tongue of Irma and Leon. Henrietta understood Flemish - but didn't speak it. Irma would frequently speak to Henrietta in Flemish which would upset Dad; Irma did speak English.

Brussels August, 2008

Catholicism was a major influence in their life. The main cathedral here is spectacular. I must admit, my meager knowledge of world history fails me here. This area was predominantly Flemish but I'm not sure what impact the Reformation had on this region. Food is hearty here just as it was in my grandmother's house. The locals say it is as good as the French but has the portions of the Germans. There were lots of stews in Irma's kitchen. Raisin bread was her specialty (kuka stuten); it was served at every holiday and at many other times of the year. I can still think about how good it tasted smothered with butter.

Augie, Henrietta and Rene- Mom and her brothers

Beer of course, was always present in their home. The Belgians know how to make beer. And now they own Anheuser-Busch (really????). They are cafe people who like to sit and talk while drinking beer or coffee. I have fond memories of our grandfather Leon sitting in his backyard, drinking beer and whistling for his birds to come home to roost. (He raced pigeons).

Irma and Leon-probably mid 1930s (Leon brewed "rootbeer" in the basement of their Detroit home during prohibition.)

I'm sure we kids all remember the brass ashtray of Mannekin Pis, Flemish for little man pee, that we had in our house. (Does anybody have that?) Mannekin Pis is a fountain in Brussels of a little boy peeing. This is probably the number one tourist attraction. It is a bit off the beaten path along the narrow streets. The story we were told growing up was that a merchant's son was missing, and a search party set out to find him. They did find him peeing in somebody's garden. The merchant was so grateful he decided to erect a statue. There are other stories dating from the 14-17 century. One is that the city was under seige and that the young boy peed on the fuse of a bomb and still another that he peed on soldiers entering the city (from a tree). I personally prefer the first story. People from this region don't take themselves too seriously. They enjoy a good time.

Mareseatoats and Mannekin Pis, August, 2008

Henrietta did enjoy a good time. I am sorry she didn't travel here to see the land of her heritage. I think she would have liked it.

Henrietta loved a photo op!

I hope you enjoy the pictures - I'm definitely going back to this region. It is rich in culture and without pretentiousness.

Today's post was brought to you by my sister Mareseatoats. Thank you Mares, I'm sending big hugs to you today.