I miss grandpa everyday and his drawings and paintings fill the house he built, he was an enemy of the communist state, lost all - his business and property to the government, he watched many of his friends get shot from the terrace of his house ( my aunt says he paced the terrace all night smoking cigarettes and watching the muzzle flashes down in the valley i guess wondering about their turn ). Grandpa was saved by a lawyer whose family grandpa used to take care of when said lawyer was in prison, he and my grandma lived for many years with a live-in communist ( don't ask, it was the weirdest arrangement that i can not even properly describe, read up on Kafka ) - it used to be a lot worse ( in the 60s and 70s) with the police coming at midnight to check on people's activities. Grandpa barely escaped with his life and was never allowed to work a proper job, he was told he was lucky to be alive. In the beginning of the communist regime he was in a labor camp building roads and later on only my grandma worked. When my mom sued the government later on in a Strasbourg court I came across papers in the archives, anonymous letters informing on grandpa and calling him "enemy of the state". This is how I know. but now this whole thing is done, his work lives on, I always say hi and bye to him as if he's around.