RACHEL

Now my parents seemed more important than ever.  I was teaching Ally to call my mother “Mor Mor” the Swedish version of Grandmother, meaning mother’s mother,  and my father “Mor Far,” meaning mother’s father.

The next visit was at Ally’s first birthday.  Willem came, it seemed, with a single mission. After he learned she had spoken her first words: “bbb” for bird and “mur” for Mor, my mother, he was intensely trying to teach her German. He would point to himself and say “vattie”  (the German word for daddy) and to me and say “muttie” (the German word for mommy).  Back and forth a dozen times or more. He’d speak to her in long German sentences and read books in English, but then translate eac...

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