Many of my reflections are centered on the remarkable women who have shaped my life. Alongside my mother, who continues to be my greatest source of inspiration, I was fortunate to grow up with extraordinary grandmothers and great-aunts. Their vibrant personalities have provided ample material for my creative works, including my latest film, Severed Silence.
Like my grandmothers, the women featured in my stories bear their burdens with grace and strength. Although my grandmothers weren’t fond of heels or makeup, my mother certainly was. She had a steadfast rule: she wouldn’t step out, even for a quick errand, without taking the time to present herself well. “I refuse to look frumpy,” she would say, “I don’t have to reflect my feelings in my attire!” That sentiment struck a chord with me.
A challenge I often face is my reluctance to open up to others about my struggles, feeling the need to remain strong and not burden them with my issues. In moments of solitude over the past decade, I’ve thought of these quiet women who carried their challenges with dignity and devoted their lives to others. Their strength reminds me of the privileges I have today. It wasn’t long ago that women had limited freedoms, and my grandmothers—along with my mom—experienced those restrictive times.
Change has been gradual, and it all began over ten years ago when I found myself holding a handful of thyme. The scent evoked a wave of comfort, tranquility, and a tinge of melancholy. A conversation with my mother revealed that my grandmother (her mother) used to brew thyme tea for me. My mom explained that thyme is known to soothe nerves and clear the mind. So, I decided to prepare some for myself, a gesture I hadn’t made since moving to the States three decades ago, and it triggered a flood of memories and emotions.
How often do we find ourselves overwhelmed by life’s complications, feeling trapped without control? I won’t bore you with my list of challenges, as it’s enough to make anyone dizzy. But like many, I’ve pondered where my strength to persevere comes from. To my surprise, it has emerged from the most unexpected sources.
The aroma of thyme and the act of sipping thyme tea brought my thoughts to my grandmother, Milena, and her remarkable life. When my mother was just five, her husband left, leaving her to raise five children alone, with the eldest only ten. In a time and place where women working was frowned upon, Milena ran an old watermill by herself to provide for her family. When people came to grind their grains, they would often leave some behind as payment, ensuring she could feed her kids. She was an exceptional cook, a nurturing soul, and she had a wonderful sense of humor that filled her home with laughter. I cherish my last memory of her—her loving blue eyes saying goodbye, a moment I carry with me always. Every time I catch a whiff of thyme or drink the tea, I see her kind gaze and am reminded that my life, despite its challenges, is not so difficult.
For years, I juggled a day job that complicated my life before I could fully pursue my passion. When I think of my grandmother, who was unable to work at all to support her children, I pause to appreciate the choices I have today. The memories of these extraordinary women, those unsung heroes, encourage me to reflect on their struggles and the resilience they displayed, reminding me to make the most of my own life.
This article was originally published on November 30, 2020.