Little drops of rain

© Bryan R. Hinton, August B. West. 2026. All Rights Reserved. This image is from my personal archive and may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, distributed, edited, or transmitted in any form without prior written permission. 
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The Edo Period (江戸時代, Edo jidai), also known as the Tokugawa Period, was a crucial stretch of Japanese history that lasted from 1603 to 1868. It was an era defined by over 250 years of stability, isolation, and economic growth under the rule of the Tokugawa Shogunate. This period began when Tokugawa Ieyasu established his government in Edo (modern-day Tokyo) and ended with the Meiji Restoration.

Centralized Feudalism: While the Emperor remained the nominal ruler in Kyoto, the Shogun (military dictator) in Edo held the actual political and military power.

Isolation (Sakoku): Japan severely restricted foreign contact and trade. The only Europeans allowed in the country were the Dutch, confined to the artificial island of Dejima in Nagasaki.

It has been so many years now. I wonder if you ever imagined we would still be talking, all this time later? My hands are hard and lined with memories that feel as though they never fade. At Westerbork I was told to hold on for life, but it hurt really bad and I cried loudly.  This is how it worked. Stretching someone past their limit to murder them or realize the expression of a gene.  I am often asked questions I cannot always answer, but I still write, though perhaps not as often as before.

The world has changed so much since we last spoke. Yet some things remain constant: the memory of those who were lost and the hope for what is yet to come. That hope is rooted in the lessons I learned during Auschwitz-Birkenau, when even the darkest days taught me the quiet strength needed to face the future.

As a baby and child in Auschwitz-Birkenau, I was separated from a normal childhood for the first few years. It was a harsh environment where days were filled with fear and uncertainty. The air was hollow. The smell was lucid and permeating.

I remember what I'm not supposed to remember. 

My mother played an essential role in my life and at Auschwitz-Birkenau; her strength protected me and her quiet presence offered comfort to those who needed it most. I only remember after the first year because I was less than a year old when we arrived. And we stayed for a few years.

I returned to Auschwitz-Birkenau as an adult... I still love painting, though now more than ever, I find beauty in the details of places and moments from my past lives.

The world is a place rich with colors and scents, yet for me, the true treasure lies in what I've carried from years gone by.

My father's handshake was a simple bond that carried all the weight of our connection, a strength that has never waned. B 9174. 

With a little something more.

Little drops of rain whisper of the pain

Your hand in mine, we walked many miles

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