Dad, I’m about the same age as you when you left a war-torn Bosnia on a night filled with sirens and bombs with me, hidden in the back of a truck. You left mom and my two sisters behind. I was very ill. You both agreed that the chance of survival was greater if we all separated. 
For two days until we reached the border you thought of only one thing: the survival of your family. When you reached the border with me on the third day, they pulled you out, tortured and humiliated you. They pointed a gun at us both. How can I ever truly understand what you-
have lived through? I will never know the hunger, desperation and horror that filled your twenties. I have grown up in a safe country eating the fruits of your suffering. I’m so proud to be your daughter. Everything I do in this life is for you. Happy (Swedish) Father’s Day, dad
When I asked him how it felt leaving his family, he replied with: “The only thing I knew was that I was leaving home. It felt like I was carrying a bag of memories with me, not clothes. My entire life was consumed between a departure and an arrival”
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