Ten months ago, when I first began my search for Silvia, I never imagined visiting Estonia. In fact, I was anticipating three weeks in Paris, but eventually Silvia changed my…
The clouds billow in from the west, like puppets on strings, their shapes the fantasy of a child's imagination. We follow a field of yellowing rye down a narrow dirt…
Rain has been the predominant weather pattern during much of my trip to Estonia, with more expected in the coming week. A day with a sunny forecast has become a…
With my forehead pressed against the window on a moving blur of a green, I feel only sadness. I am on the train, leaving Tallinn, without meeting Silvia's sister. In…
It was with a fair amount of trepidation that I had previously passed the imposing facade of my destination. Moving past the infamous bricked-in windows, knowing I would walk down…
In an earlier post, A Mother's Voice, which I wrote from the dates of a genealogical outline, I likened the lives of Silvia's mother and stepmother to the "shadows, flitting across the…
I have come for Silvia. To bear witness in her stead. To be present at the return of Henrik Visnapuu to the soil of his homeland, and his reunion with…
Today was the day. It was the day I had traveled to Estonia to experience. I couldn't eat and I hadn't slept much. What sleep had come had brought dreams…
The day Henrik Visnapuu left North America, his remains returning on a special flight across the Atlantic to his homeland, was an important day for Estonia, as well as myself.…
The weather today was blustery with manic periods of rain, creating less than ideal conditions for visiting Silvia's childhood home, or strolling through the nearby park that held her fond…
