Stuck

I am stuck in Nuremberg and the in recounting our European adventure.  Son put it best by saying it was a lot to process.  And that is exactly how it feels, processing.  Sorting all the information and the emotions.  Being confronted almost daily with the destruction of the war and wars since WWII.  Walking the streets of once thriving Jewish populations exterminated during WWII.  One person suggesting the US needs to stay out of other countries business.  The next person praising the US for helping save artworks, palaces and helping rebuild many of the places we visited.

My dad did not serve in WWII.  He was a farmer, in his late twenties with children. Healthy as a horse but still not called to serve because, well, food for the soldiers.  Two of my uncles served during WWII.  One of Hubby's uncles and several of our uncles in law served is various arms of the service.  Uncle Clay was in a tank division under General Patton.  Uncle was part of the Battle of the Bulge.  Later he entered one of the concentration camps his division helped liberate.  He recounted the horror he saw only once to me.  Horrors that could haunt a sensitive person for a lifetime.

SS headquarters

And there I sat on buses touring this nation that did much damage in the early and mid 20th century.  Looking at where the SS main offices were located.  Paying money for souvenirs and having a grand time.  Later in the trip we stood in still war torn areas of Bosnia and Serbia.  Areas still marked with skull and crossbone signs.  Buying gifts from a shop that the upper floor is still pocked marked by the bullets of two decades earlier. No money to repair that floor yet.

Bombed home in Bosnia

If I could use a blender to process all this information and feelings I could get back to blogging.  That is not possible.  Please, be patient as I process in my 69 year old mind kind of way....  I'll get unstuck....

Belgrade gift shop.