After four years I’m finally coming back to this memoir. I’d like to finish it while memories are still floating in my mind. At times I’m overwhelmed by panic that there isn’t much time left. I’m 84.
I’m glad that Dad’s whole story in captivity is told in a short biography for Hadouch’s Lamsdorf-Lambinowice museum in Poland. In this new post I’ve added a few details.
You can read Part 8 here.
Zagreb and Ljubljana
Pick it up!’
‘Pick it up!’
‘Noooo!’ She screamed so hard she turned scarlet in her little toddler’s face.
Two grown-ups, her nanny and her dad, were towering over her, insisting that she pick up a piece of bread she had just thrown on the floor. On the Persian carpet… in the living room in Zagreb…
That scene is still vivid in my mind. I can’t remember, though…
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