I didn't feel happy as I used to be with Sophie before. I know her life story, I know all she went through, and now she's gone.
I have my book about her life story finished, even so I'm still a complaint with sadness. Such a woman like Sophie I'll never meet in my life. Such a wonderful woman like she.
Another life that probably did not transfer over the horrors of the war and decided to end their torment.
Not only her, but her unbalanced loved Nathan too.
Two lives who survived the war, but they remained thwarted until the end of their days.
My emotions about death of Nathan are mixed. I still can't forget how he behaved to the poor Sophie.
I am in Poland to visit the place where my love Sophie and her lover suffered so much.
Auschwitz concentration camp.
The Cold War is in full swing, it was hard to get to this currently communist state. Yet I was lucky to earn in New York some money on the trip here before I publish the book documenting Sophie's life. I was working on the book for 5 years and I've experienced a few unhappy love relationships with women after her death.
The place was uncomfortable already from the distance, and that it was a rainy day made the local atmosphere of much more sad.
Just a view from the distance. From the rails to the building itself.
I had my notes with myself, but I didn't feel on writing here at all. I felt the sadness of the people who died here.
I felt more uncomfortable when entering the building.
Yes, I handled the fights of the Second World War where I fought, but I'm not sure if I was still here I was still over at all survive as my beloved Sophie.
Before the gate, roughly a few meters from the gate stood a wooden banner with painted skull and with the inscription in Polish and German.
Halt!
Stoj!
I went on. I stood in front of the famous gate leading to the place of death.
Arbeit Macht Frei
Just a form of what gate was built was disturbing.
Color bars to which wires were attached, and wavy gate with the inscription. Then only the view of the darkened sky and buildings built from bricks where people often suffered.
I first visited the place where the trains with prisoners stopped when men, women and children were imported into camp as I was remembering what happened to Sophie here.
Here in this place, she had to decide which of her children she lets die and which lets live.
I still got very well imagined what she told me.
I felt sad. She experienced both the loss of the man and the loss of children.
During the tour of the museum I imagined what she did here to find her little son.
Views into the gas chambers, furnaces, prisoners, and things of the dead made me sad even more.
She did everything to save herself and her children, at least one of them.
On this place of suffering.
But then I heard a female voice.
"Stingo? Stingo?"
Then I turned and saw a woman- Sophia with her eight year old daughter Eva and her ten years old son Jan.
I was completely frozen.
"Goodbye William," She said looking at me along with her children who were with her.
These were the last words I heard from her, from her soul itself.
I looked back. I stood frozen in place. Nobody was there.