He notices the book I’ve pulled out from my bag; we’ve read it before and it’s one he adores, but selfishly, this selection was in service of my own emotional longings, an effort to fulfill the day’s requisite mourning. By the way, did you know that Anne Frank wrote children’s stories?
Seventy years ago this week, the Auschwitz death camp was liberated. For me, it’s this thing that keeps popping up in my news feed that I glance at and move on.
Tonight, we will light memorial candles. We will lower our gaze and bow our heads. We will say a prayer and try to memorialize the existence of the millions of Jewish souls that the Nazis tried to erase and extinguish over 60 years ago.
I saw my grandmother's soul leave her body and reunite with my grandfather, who was murdered 53 years earlier. I saw their souls the way I now see my hands.
