Today is Hitler's birthday and we were expected to celebrate like it was Christmas or Easter. We couldn't find our government issued Nazi flag for awhile. I hate flying that thing and every time I get to take it down I hope it is the last time I ever have to fly it. I must admit, I like to toss it in the back of a closet, somewhere I don't have to look at or think about it until the next time I have to display that despicable thing.
Our children came over for lunch. Of course, it was another opportunity for my son to drill me about if I've become a member of the Nazi party. Truth be told, I don't want to be a part of that party, but I finally submitted an application when I knew I could put off the inevitable no longer. I haven't heard anything back and he wants to know why I haven't tried again. I haven't tried again because I don't really want to be a member of a party that is persecuting people left and right. He should know that, but he keeps thinking he will be change my mind about the party. I hope I make it through this war and never have my application accepted. I hope it is lost forever.
My son, though, he has bought into their propaganda hook, line and sinker. He used to be such a sweet boy, but when he reached his teen years, our paths diverged. He began to believe in the poison they're spreading. Some of our biggest disagreements were over the fact that I continued to paint over slurs painted on the homes of Jews. I could not in good conscience allow innocent people to have their homes desecrated. He bought the idea that Jews are a stain on our society, but he has not lived enough life. I know better. I know they are no different than you and I. We are all human and nobody deserves that treatment. So, I must use my skills as a house painter to rectify wrongs.
He thinks I don't care about this country, but what he can't see yet, is that this will stain the reputation of our country forever. Forever.
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