My German son Philip spent a year with us, 1989-1990, and would not display the German flag. (All the students receive the flag of their country.) he was ashamed, even when I told him that he didn’t do those horrible things. I understood, but it is still sad.
Hi Marsha—Thank you so much for your response. I’m glad I touched a chord. But I know how hard it is to think about traumatic events in our or our families’ pasts, especially if they aren’t out in the open. When something is swept under the rug, its pain lingers. It’s a festering sore. Addressing it can feel like undergoing surgery, but the healing can finally begin. Giving the wound air, rather than keeping it in the dark, is part of the healing. It’s not easy, though. Especially on our own. I had a therapist who helped me process a lot of pain from my younger years. It took a few years, but it no longer has the power over me that it once did. It will always be with me, but like a scar, rather than an open wound. I would wish that healing process for you, but I know that it’s a hard thing to do, and most people would rather not wade into it. But we can get help to make it easier. Sending you my best wishes for your healing!
I can't tell you how moving I found this essay. It really struck me in a deep place. On the one hand you've made me think I could never go to Berlin; on the other hand you've made me think that I MUST go to Berlin. I struggle with a lot of what I think must be inherited trauma, and because no one talks about it in my family, I am alone. The Germans have addressed the past very openly, and you described many examples of this. It makes me wonder if I am better off burying terrible things or if I should be digging into them further. I've been trying to dig into them, but it sure does hurt, and sometimes I feel ridiculous, re-opening things that it seems most people have gotten past. Thank you for your writing, and the lovely photos are such a great bonus!
My German son Philip spent a year with us, 1989-1990, and would not display the German flag. (All the students receive the flag of their country.) he was ashamed, even when I told him that he didn’t do those horrible things. I understood, but it is still sad.
Hi Marsha—Thank you so much for your response. I’m glad I touched a chord. But I know how hard it is to think about traumatic events in our or our families’ pasts, especially if they aren’t out in the open. When something is swept under the rug, its pain lingers. It’s a festering sore. Addressing it can feel like undergoing surgery, but the healing can finally begin. Giving the wound air, rather than keeping it in the dark, is part of the healing. It’s not easy, though. Especially on our own. I had a therapist who helped me process a lot of pain from my younger years. It took a few years, but it no longer has the power over me that it once did. It will always be with me, but like a scar, rather than an open wound. I would wish that healing process for you, but I know that it’s a hard thing to do, and most people would rather not wade into it. But we can get help to make it easier. Sending you my best wishes for your healing!
I can't tell you how moving I found this essay. It really struck me in a deep place. On the one hand you've made me think I could never go to Berlin; on the other hand you've made me think that I MUST go to Berlin. I struggle with a lot of what I think must be inherited trauma, and because no one talks about it in my family, I am alone. The Germans have addressed the past very openly, and you described many examples of this. It makes me wonder if I am better off burying terrible things or if I should be digging into them further. I've been trying to dig into them, but it sure does hurt, and sometimes I feel ridiculous, re-opening things that it seems most people have gotten past. Thank you for your writing, and the lovely photos are such a great bonus!