I look at my mother, connected by a breath of glimmering hope, her red and shadowed eyes reveal that some element of our whole being has been lost and, somehow, thrown away. Sob-gasp, sob-gasp, sob-gasp. Slowly, that feeling within me fades. But wisps of it stay with you, locked in the chambers of your mind, always.
Alfred NestorTags: wwii hitler ww2 childhood-trauma alfred-nestor survival-story uncle-hitler war-story alf-nestor author-alfred-nestor hitler-s-germany nazi-party second-world-war-chidhood second-world-war-in-germany childhood-surival-story
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