I read Maus in two sittings when I was alone at home in January. If I had known that the book was about the Holocaust, and that the main character, Mr Spiegelman, would remind me so much of my Dadi, I would have avoided reading it.
I secretly laughed at Dadi’s need for order, and perfection. And not just any order, but one of her design.
I got irritated when she accumulated trash and treated it like treasure.
I felt scared when she had one of her restless nights, not able to lie down nor sit up, only feeling better after Papa put a nitroglycerin patch.
And I cried when she told me how much she still missed Baba.
Even though I have the second part of the book, I am not going to be reading it for a long time. I miss Dadi.