Berlyn's Gate

Driving over the mountain passes between the state of Arizona and her childhood home in Idaho, the dramatic shift in landscape captivated Berlyn. From the arid deserts with cactus and sage to the lush pine forests, the sights couldn’t be more divergent. Two days of travel brought her to the wide-open grain fields of the Idaho prairies, where the warm welcome should have awaited her. Berlyn felt an undeniable pull toward her past as she drove northward and the memories crept in.

Growing up on the family farm in mid-western Idaho had been for Berlyn a lifestyle from which to flee. She graduated high school early after being accepted into the nursing program at Arizona State University. In her late thirties now, she was a full-fledged travel nurse with certifications in the high demand nursing areas of Emergency and Critical Care. Now in between assignments, Berlyn was on a journey to retrieve her mother, Anna’s beloved china from her Aunt Carlotta, a woman she hadn’t been in contact with since before her mother’s passing.

The china, a delicately crafted set made in one of the fine porcelain factories in Dresden, Germany, had come to America piece by piece. Lovingly transported by her mother, Anna, after each visit back to Germany, it was more than just porcelain. It was the story of their heritage.

Berlyn’s mother had always said she would pass it down to her, a symbol of connection to the family legacy. But Aunt Carlotta, who still held onto the set against her late sister’s wishes, had other ideas. She disapproved of Berlyn’s choices; her free spirit, love of exploration and what Carlotta decided was an unstable lifestyle.

“In two miles, turn left.” The GPS directed, interrupting Berlyn’s concentration. She didn’t need any directions, but she activated the navigation app on her cell phone out of habit.

Berlyn slowed the hooptie, a vintage Chevy four-door sedan she was driving. The ten-year-old car used to be burgundy but was now a faded pink form years of baking in the sun. As she neared the turnoff, memory told her she was there when she saw the modest family farmhouse set just outside a stand of pine trees where her aunt still lived. Berlyn felt apprehension but willed herself to turn.

Set off the road past the golden fields surrounding it stood the house. With its exposed wood frame structure and half-timbered design reminiscent of the buildings in Bavaria, Germany - the country of her ancestors, the house seamlessly merged with the expansive high prairie farmland.

Looming before her, the signature architecture was captivating and intimidating. Before she could park, the front door swung open and there stood Aunt Carlotta - a stout woman with wild, fuzzy, silver-dusted strands of hair going all directions at once. Her weathered skin told the story of how harsh farming can be. A wintery sharp stare from her cold blue eyes sent prickly skin down Berlyn’s neck. A sudden flash brought back images of Carlotta and Berlyn’s mother, Anna, in one of many heated discussions they always seemed to have regarding Berlyn.

“Hello, Berlyn,” said Carlotta, her voice colder than the Idaho wind. “Come in.”

Through the open door drifted the smell of fresh baked bread and wood smoke, a comforting contrast to soften the tension inside Berlyn. With trepidation, Berlyn stepped across the threshold. As she scanned the interior, Berlyn’s eyes were drawn to the china cabinet against the wall, its glass doors standing like clear boundaries guarding the pieces she hadn’t seen since her mother passed away.

“Anna always wanted you to have the set,” Carlotta stated bluntly as she caught her niece’s gaze. She folded her arms across her ample bosom and gave a huff. “But I didn’t believe you were ready for it.”

“It wasn’t your decision,” Berlyn thought, but kept it to herself. She needed her aunt’s cooperation if she was to succeed with her mission. “I am aware of how you feel about the china, Aunt Carlotta.”

“Nobody seems to care anymore what an old lady thinks.” Carlotta gave a humph, then continued. “And what, may I ask, are you doing with your life, Berlyn?” Carlotta asked, her words dripping with condescension. “Are you still flitting from job to job? Even as a child, you were averse to commitment.”

While it was true that Berlyn, according to most standards, had always been a flighty child, it was at no one’s expense but her own. She had bounced from one interest to another. First it was piano, then soccer. She excelled at everything she did, then moved on. What she sought above all was the challenge and excitement of anything new. As a travel nurse, she satisfied all her needs.

Despite the sting in Carlotta’s words, Berlyn felt the weight of her own choices settle in her chest. She had been away from home when her mother became ill and needed her most. “Aunt Carlotta, I know you think I’m reckless.”

“It’s not that you’re reckless,” Carlotta said contradictorily. “I think you’re lost. I always told Anna she needed to keep a tighter rein on you, but to no avail.”

“This is normal for me. Mom… she understood that.” Berlyn dropped her eyes at the thought of what Aunt Carlotta experienced as she watched her younger sister drift away into death. Despite Berlyn’s desire to come home and be with her mother, Anna had insisted she was not that sick. Berlyn kept to her nursing, choosing, in Carlotta’s opinion, her career over family.

Lost in thoughts of their own, the two women stood in a silence that descended with nothing to connect them to each other. Worlds apart by age and culture, there was no common ground between them. Berlyn refocused on the china cabinet.

The sunlight streaming through the window shone through the glass doors and reflected off the delicate designs, and lit the exquisite thread of golden that lined the edges of each piece. Flowers added a touch of color to the creamy white surfaces. The signature design of porcelain lace that adorned the additional pieces of the serving set and tea set, were something to behold. As she looked at this one-of-a-kind set of dishes, she couldn’t help but see it as a tangible embodiment of her mother’s unwavering determination and boundless love. Each piece held the memory of the trips her mother took to the homeland and back.

“I came to retrieve the china,” Berlyn said, her voice not representative of the courage she tried to muster. “It was Mom’s wish.”

Carlotta’s arms unfolded, and her shoulders eased away from her ears. “Yes, Anna wanted you to have it. But why do you believe you deserve it?”

Caught by Carlotta’s dagger filled gaze, Berlyn opened her mouth to defend herself. From deep inside came a calming swell of sadness. “It’s not about deserving, Aunt Carlotta. It’s about carrying on my mother’s legacy.”

Carlotta looked at the china and back at Berlyn. “She loved those pieces, you know. She took pride in them as a representation of our heritage.” Carlotta thought about their farmstead in the Sudeten mountains of Germany.

“Mom believed they would inspire responsibility in me. They hold stories and connections to our German ancestors,” Berlyn replied.

“I never use them. They are too beautiful and too precious for just anyone.” Carlotta remembered the china set her mother, Berlyn’s Oma Mila, had had to leave behind when the Czech government expelled the German-speaking populations in 1945.

Upon relocating to the United States with her parents and older siblings, when she was a young child, Berlyn’s mother had the idea of replacing that precious set and the gesture overjoyed Oma Mila.

“We should set these pieces on the table at meals shared by friends and family, not hide them away,” Berlyn spoke more confidently.

Carlotta’s eyes glistened with emotion. She remembered how proud her mother had been to invite friends and neighbors over for holidays and special meals. The farm had served as a hub of life in the community, and they served the dinners on those plates. Mila had generously shared and taught her daughters, Carlotta and Anna, to continue the legacy but since Anna’s abrupt passing at such a young age, Carlotta, who never was the social butterfly as was her sister, had become further and further withdrawn. The only one in the family left to carry on the tradition, Carlotta convinced herself she was happier in her solitary life. The china set fell to no use.

“I thought keeping them safe meant protecting Anna’s memory,” Carlotta murmured. “But maybe it was selfish of me.”

Berlyn stepped closer, her heart softening toward her aunt in that moment of vulnerability. “It doesn’t have to be selfish. We can share her story, Tante Carlotta. Together.”

“She was my kleine Schwester, my baby sister.” Carlotta’s voice held a quiver. “The youngest in our family. And when I lost her, it was like losing a piece of myself.”

Berlyn thought about her aunt’s grief in a new light. Yes, Berlyn had been alone in her grief after her mother passed, but so had Aunt Carlotta. Motivated by her new perspective, she wanted to reach out to her auntie, but she remembered Carlotta wasn’t the hugging type.

After a long pause, Carlotta nodded. “Perhaps you’re right, Berlyn. Perhaps it’s time to let go and let the china serve its purpose.”

With shaking hands, Carlotta opened the cabinet and lifted a delicate piece. As she placed it in Berlyn’s hands, she shared a story. Repeating this process, one by one, the china came out of the cabinet.

Carlotta talked about how Anna had handpicked each item and how she had purchased most of them new. Some pieces that had survived the war, they found in antique shops. Anna and Carlotta flew across the ocean to gather the pieces one by one, then carried them to America, just as they, as children, had journeyed by boat from the homeland to their new life.

Berlyn listened and learned with each story. Absorbing not only the history of the china but bits and pieces of her mother’s childhood, their experiences in concentration camps as members of the three-million displaced Sudetenlanders, and their ultimate triumph after the hard work put in to earn immigration status.

Berlyn gained valuable insight into her family and also a newfound understanding of her aunt. What had always seemed like Carlotta passing judgment on Berlyn and how Anna raised her came from a strong sense of practicality because of all Carlotta had been through. Acting out of a fierce sense of guardianship, Carlotta not only protected her sister but also shouldered the weight of ensuring Berlyn’s future.

As the last piece came from the cabinet, Berlyn and Carlotta stared at the collection spread out on the dining table. Reflecting in the sunlight, the china sparkled like jewels.

“Family jewels.” Berlyn whispered, feeling her connection to her mother and her aunt, and their whole family. “Thank you for sharing this with me, Tante Lottie,” she said.

Carlotta looked across the table at her niece, the ice in her eyes melting away. “We may never agree on everything, Berlyn, but what we have in common is stronger than any material possessions.”

With the china spread out before her, Berlyn realized that though the set should not be hidden away, with her wasn’t the safest place for it either. “You are right, Tante Lottie. Mom’s china should not be with me. Not because I don’t deserve it, but because I have no place to keep it.”

Carlotta moved around the table to stand by her niece. “You are your mother’s child, thoughtful and self-less. And you, my dear Berlyn, are also right.” Taking Berlyn by the face, a gnarly hand on each cheek, Aunt Lottie asked, “Do you think we, us two, can bring this china out for meals together?”

The initial surprise of the unlikely physical contact disappeared as Berlyn looked into her auntie’s eyes and nodded.

Then Carlotta invited Berlyn to stay for dinner, to share in using those treasured pieces, bridging the gap between their worlds. Carlotta asked Berlyn to tell her about her adventures as a travel nurse. As Berlyn shared her experiences with her aunt, she could see the old lady was both inspired and afraid for her.

“I understand they have assigned you to some really rough places following natural disasters. Isn’t that dangerous?” Carlotta’s eyes were as round as the dinner plates.

Berlyn hesitated to answer with honesty, not wanting to scare her auntie, but then she forged ahead with a smile. “Actually, Tante Lottie, the hardest part of the job is making sure I have the certification requirements for the next state I am assigned to work in.”

Aunt Lottie loosened up and enjoy Berlyn’s next stories. Carlotta then shared with Berlyn some adventures she and Anna had had growing up on a farm in Bohemia, and how it compared to life on the farm in Idaho. For the first time in their relationship, Berlyn felt a deeper connection.

“How long can you stay?” Aunt Carlotta asked when they had finished eating and secured the priceless dishes in the cabinet's safety.

“My next assignment isn’t for a few weeks.” Berlyn didn’t answer the question directly. She was unsure if she had been extended an invitation to stay longer.

“Then you will stay.” Aunt Carlotta authorized the decision.

With a sigh, Berlyn agreed. “I am thinking of changing my home state and moving a little farther north.”

Berlyn extended the conversation while she and Carlotta made up a bed for her for the night. “Arizona has been a fun place to live, but the desert heat can be a drag. I don’t need to stay in Tucson for the university any longer.”

“Then you shall make Idaho your home state.” Carlotta stated boldly.

“Are you inviting me to stay with you, Tante?” Berlyn smiled wryly. She hated how demanding her aunt had always been. Now, with better understanding, she translated her aunt’s statement differently.

“Dear child, this is your home, too. You need no invitation.” Carlotta beat her hands on the pillow she had set on the bed in her sister’s old room. “This farmhouse built by your grandfather and uncle is the house your mother lived in before she and your father moved to the city. She slept in this very room. It is your room now.”

“I hope you will come back soon.” Aunt Carlotta smiled as Berlyn turned her chevy towards the driveway the next morning. “We shall have Onkel Reinhard and deine cousinen for dinner.”

“I promise I will, Tante Lottie.” Berlyn waved goodbye.

As Berlyn left Idaho, she smiled at the irony. She had come to Idaho to bring home to Arizona a family heirloom. Now she was returning to Arizona to retrieve her few belongings and bring them to the farm in Idaho instead.

The journey ahead was still hers to travel, and though Aunt Lottie still didn’t approve, she had realized that accepting her niece’s choices brought them closer. With each piece of the priceless dishware nestled safely in the cabinet, Berlyn carried the legacy of her mother with her in spirit. She looked forward to the many dinners she and Carlotta would share with friends and family in the future. The people would once again gather at the table set with the dishes that still had so much to give.