Grandma

"If I were to give a bracelet to you, now, I would measure your wrist twice." (79)

When she was a little girl, her grandfather gave her a bracelet which symbolised his love for her. It was too big to wear, it was not comfortable. It was made this way because of what symbolised: a huge love. However, what are we supposed to do with something that big which does not feel alright? Isn't is better to do things with a measure? Can we measure - in its two meanings, ascertain and administer - love?

"I don't know why that hurts so much. I told him, They are not even nice doorknobs. He wrote, but they are our doorknobs. I was his too. He never took pictures of me, and we didn't buy life insurance." (175)

After the couple decides to get an insurance policy, Thomas (Oskar's grandfather) starts taking pictures of everything in the house, even the doorknobs. Notwithstanding, he never takes pictures of his wife. He attaches much more importance, at least apparently, to objects than to people and, consequently, to feelings and emotions. Of course, his wife notices his attitude and feels bad about it when she remembers it.

"We made love in nothing places and turned the lights off. It felt like crying. [...] It was the first time I had ever cried in front of him. It felt like making love". (177-178)

Striking, heart-breaking. Making love should never feel like crying. She asks herself more than once "Why does anybody make love?" What a strange relationship!

"I understand, now, the tragedy of my childhood. It wasn't the bombing. It was that I never once liked a photograph of myself. I couldn't." (183)

Oskar's grandmother never felt at ease with herself, was she feeling guilty? Maybe this is the reason why she never stood up for her dignity: she begs a man who doesn't love her to marry her, then suffers in silence as they make love and is unable to communicate her feelings. Sad.

"I regret that it takes a life to learn how to live, Oskar. Because if I were able to live my life again, I would do things differently." (184)

Just as it is the case with Oskar's grandfather, she doesn't know how to live either and she regrets having only one life.

"And how can you say I love you to someone you love? [...] Here's the point to everything I have been trying to tell you, Oskar. It is always necessary. I love you." (314)

This is the end of a letter she writes to her grandson, Oskar. In it she tells him how she loved her sister, Anna, but how she always failed to tell her. For her it appeared obvious that they loved each other and thus it was not necessary to utter it; when she wanted to do it she always got cold feet at the last moment and thought there would be many more occasions. In the end, as we learn from her letter, there were no more opportunities. This is why now she does say 'I love you' to Oskar. Quite an expensive price she had to pay for the lesson.