He answered without looking at her. Instead he stared into the fire as he spoke. "The memories? No. They will always be there."
In the silence that followed, Nancy wanted to ask Grandfather George how he had dealt with the burden. Turning away from the warm fire, she looked about the room, as if that would provide the answer. As she slowly looked at the rows and rows of books standing silently waiting for the grandfather, Nancy Kozak began to realize that his many hours in quiet reading and meditation in this room had been his refuge, his place to go where he could find the strength and wisdom necessary to put his memories in their proper perspective and carry on a useful life. That he had allowed Nancy when she was a child to enter this private world was something she had never understood the full significance of. That he had seen in her the future, a future that could be free of the horrors of war that still tortured his mind, was never appreciated by anyone but him.
Now as Nancy began the long and arduous task of healing herself, her Grandfather George sat with her in silence, saddened by the fact that his hopes for her had come to naught. At least if I can't protect her from this terrible burden, I can be here to help her with it.
And so they sat there in silence. Perhaps her children would escape. Perhaps when she is my age, she will have children free from the sins of their parents. Perhaps.
Battle Maps 2-16
