Tuesday August 3rd 1999
Today is the day I have been waiting for since we arrived—we will be going to Vanse to see all the places my father talked about from his childhood. During the drive my father kept saying, “You know, I am sure things have changed a lot since 1945.” As we entered the town he had a wrinkled brow as he kept looking out the window. “So much has changed,” he said discouraged, shaking his head. “I think we need to take a right here and then a left.” We followed his directions and his eyes opened wide. “There it is! Now I know where we are. This is the church where Bestefar and Bestemor are buried. Pull over and park.” We followed my dad as he walked through the graveyard to the…