Our Pa stayed with us for a few days on his way between places.
He wanted to visit the Jewish and Holocaust Museum, so I took him on Monday.
I keep thinking that my feelings will some how work themselves out into proper, organised feelings that make sense.
So there are my thoughts in no particular order and without a logical flow. I'm still confused. And a little overwhelmed.
I didn't want to go. I wished with all my heart that I could get out of it. I was afraid I wouldn't cope. But I love my Pa and I didn't want to let him down. So I went.
The Museum is very tastefully done. Even though I was sometimes disgusted and saddened, I never felt like I couldn't cope.
We took a tour. It was taken by an actual Holocaust survivor who had been in Altzwitch.
It is easy to think that that is just a period in history, way over the other side of the world, that I can keep out of my mind. But when a lady is standing in front of me who experienced it all, you can't ignore that.
I was taken back by the absolute bitterness and hatred that I heard in her voice for the German people. I feel like I should be able to excuse it and that it is understandable because of the awful things she experienced.
But I felt like I wanted to offer possible explanations (like why a neighbour turned them in) but she would not have any pity. I wonder if that hatred only makes it worse.
The saddest room was a small one filled with photos of children who had been killed.
When we left the guard told my Pa and I that he wouldn't ever visit it because it was in the past and best left there, and he didn't want to have to deal with the emotions it would bring.
I was ashamed that I had felt that way too.