My grandparents on both sides of the family led amazing lives, and I began to write their stories in great detail this week. My father’s parents, born in Turkey, survived the Armenian Genocide in the early 1900s by escaping to Cyprus. My mother’s parents, born in Denmark, grew up on farms and would choose to raise 8 children in a Copenhagen flat.
But it wasn’t until I poured over letters and interviewed my mother and father’s sister, that the common link that brought my parents together showed itself more clearly with every new piece of information.
You see faith has been their bond, and I discovered a similar faith ties together all four of my grandparents. My dad’s father was a protestant Armenian who had to convince my Apostolic grandmother’s family that he would be a good husband and father, even if she would have to convert. No wonder my father’s faith influenced his choices so strongly.
My mom’s father became a pastor in the Danish Lutheran church and met my grandmother when he took a job at the church she and her family attended. They would move around Denmark until he became pastor of a well-known church in Copenhagen. Faith marked my mother early and still has her in its grip.
I didn’t realize the depth of the faith of those who came before me.
My Hybrid journey week 6.