The inherited trauma experienced by the children of Holocaust survivors is increasingly well-documented and becoming more understood. But, analysis aside, the real-life stories of the generation born to those who suffered so greatly are fascinating, and they call for respect and privacy. So when someone pens a memoir about her life and journey to understand her family, it is important to take note. And when that book is like I WANT YOU TO KNOW WE’RE STILL HERE by Esther Safran Foer --- powerful, beautiful, heartwrenching --- it is truly a gift.

Safran Foer was born in Poland, but her birth certificate states Germany and has the wrong birthdate. This misinformation and confusion, never really cleared up or explained, is common for those who, like her, were born to Survivors. She was born in a Displaced Persons camp in 1946, just as the war was ending on all fronts, to Lieb and Ethel Safran, both of whom survived, separately, by hiding from the Nazis and moving across eastern Europe: from Ukraine to Russia to Poland. When the couple met, both had lost everything: homes and belongings, parents, siblings, cousins, spouses and, in the case of Lieb, a daughter.

"To say that this book is poignant is a gross understatement. Safran Foer puts so much into this slender and powerful volume.... [I]t is a look at the modern Jewish experience as one of survival, rebuilding, pride, tradition and transcendent love."

Over the years, Safran Foer was able to glean bits and pieces of her parents’ story. Her father died tragically young, and her mother, like many Survivors, was reticent to talk about her early life and loss. As Safran Foer’s own family grew to include children and grandchildren, and as her mother aged, her desire to know more about her family increased. She was especially interested to learn what her father was like before the war, how he survived, and what happened to his wife and daughter.

I WANT YOU TO KNOW WE’RE STILL HERE recounts Safran Foer’s search for her parents’ past and any information at all about her half-sister, even just her name. She spends years pouring through documents, archives and genealogy databases, and reaching out to distant cousins in Israel, Brazil and the U.S. She also visits all these places, gathering the details she hopes will help make sense of her parents’ lives and her place in their stories. Finally, she travels, along with her son Frank, to Ukraine to see the shtetls where her parents lived, locate the Righteous Gentiles who hid her father, and perhaps find a way to connect to the sister who was murdered before she was even born.

To say that this book is poignant is a gross understatement. Safran Foer puts so much into this slender and powerful volume. She is honest about how her need to learn more and make connections often put her at odds with her mother’s emotional comfort level. Her mother, in fact, was very much against her trip to Ukraine, the site where the vast majority of their family was killed and where the mass graves in which they are buried are often forgotten and overgrown forest places. Yet Safran Foer forged ahead, determined to solve the mysteries that have shaped so much of her life, and to honor her family members who were murdered and whose names and lives seemed on the verge of erasure with the passage of time.

Occasionally, the narrative circles back on itself as Safran Foer unknots the tangles in her life-long story. But her writing is as lovely and engaging as the tale she is telling is harrowing and sorrowful. Still, there is joy and optimism here, beauty and hope. I WANT YOU TO KNOW WE’RE STILL HERE is a highly recommended look at memory, family, and the modern Jewish experience as shaped by violence and hatred. More importantly, it is a look at the modern Jewish experience as one of survival, rebuilding, pride, tradition and transcendent love.