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  • This was my husband's second time meeting my grandparents.

    The first time was over 10 years ago, even before we were engaged to be married.

    And it didn't fail to bring tears to my eyes again.

    My grandma sang to us the song she sang every day as a little girl in school and conversed with my husband in the language that she had been forced to learn during the occupation.

    It would be a lie to say that I didn't feel a pang of guilt…The reality of our two country's complicated history, only ever becoming real to me during these two visits.

    As my 86-year grandma embraced my husband in her arms, saying how much she loved him and me, she showed me what it means to remember, but to move forward and love.
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