At some point during my Holocaust education...either in high school or when I lived in Germany, I realized that I was part of the last generation to bear witness to Holocaust survivors. It occurred to me that my kids (as of yet unborn) would most likely never know someone who survived.
Read an article last week about WW II vets in Jerusalem, who were upset that the city had canceled its annual May 8th parade (VE day) which celebrated the role of Jewish soldiers in WWII. The vets complained that "soon, there will be none of us left."
This past Memorial Day, my Poppy's name was read at Arlington National Cemetery as part of the Flying Tigers Honor Roll, for those who had served and had since passed away. Apparently, this is the last year which the service will be performed...there are few Flying Tigers who remain.
As I watched the kids playing joyfully in the bath, I was struck the seismic generational shift underway.
The WWII vets, the Holocaust survivors are being replaced on the earth. My kids' time is coming. The two will never meet as adults.
Years ago I thought "the day will come..."
Now, it's here.
Subscribe to RSS Feed