August 10

​The destination of my daily walks with great grandmother has reverted to the rocky outcrop. Here we can sit among the petroglyphs and warm our backs.

​‘There was a third hard lesson I eventually absorbed from those wartime summers and the aftermath of the war’ says Great Grandmother. ‘It was about the incomplete’.
 
‘Only one of my two brothers came back from the war with my father. To the end of her days my mother would go each morning to the gate of our house in the town and look down the road. She never gave up hope that one day my missing brother would return. I did not share her hope. But I could not destroy hers’.
 
‘I struggled to understand the death of my brother. It seemed so unjust. Others of his generation had returned to the town yet he had had no chance to live a life. Others of my friends who experienced similar losses also felt the injustice’.