One of the things I decided to do while on vacation was to visit the Swedish American Museum in Andersonville in Chicago. I hadn’t been there in at least ten years. It was nice to see the exhibits again and to visit my dad’s brick on the Immigrant Wall.
I have to admit, I got a little teary-eyed strolling through the museum. My dad has been gone 25 years, but there’s still so many questions I would have liked to have asked him.
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