4 февраля 2015 г., 11:02
I can’t fully wrap my mind around
the idea that my grandmother and the apparent love of her life have been living in the same country for sixty
years and never knew the other had survived. But if Jacob had found her during the war, my mother might
never have been born, and of course I wouldn’t have been either. So had things worked out the way they were
supposed to? Or was my very existence a slap in the face of true love?
