This is my first post in awhile, for I was still grieving the loss of my beloved aunt, when my dad died of Parkinson’s in March. And I found myself sunk even deeper in the quicksand of depression. Writing is therapeutic, but I was so locked in grief that I couldn’t write. Grief and depression are a bitch. But now, finally and shakily, I write. Saying … Continue reading the story "My Father and the Holocaust"