My Father was a nazi

My Father's family has always been fascist. I grew up under harsh conditions in Germany. I used to get beat and told that I wasn't worthy to live, even when I was just a child. I later joined the church to seek sollace and comfort. This changed my life completely. I used to have this one friend that was a bit of an oddball, but we grew closer as time went on. He was the first person I ever met who actually loved me. He would always help me in times of need and we grew in love. We married and lived happily together. He's always been a good man to me and I love him more then anything. When he passed away, I felt betrayed by the world. I felt like the good lord had forgotten about me. My life was quickly going downhill. I fell into alcoholism and sank deeper. Then I met a new person. This person showed me what true love looks like and helped me to dry out. But this person was Jewish, something that went against everything my father ever taught me. But he was Jewish nonetheless. He read the Talmud, but that didn't seem to matter. He was a good person regardless of his ethnicity. I sat down with him and told him my story. I told him about how I was raised to be racist, but that I wasn't raised to hate him in particular. He was shocked by my story. Then he read a verse from the Talmud, which said that someone who is good to the poor will receive honor, and that the name of the good person would spread across the earth. He said that he was but a mere mortal, but he could show me that there was good in the world, and that he would be there for me and love me until the end of days, and that he wanted to marry me. I said yes. We married in a synagogue and we were happy for a long time. Shortly before his death he told me that he was proud of me, that I had been strong when I had every reason to give up. He told me that he loved me, and that he knew I loved him too. He told me that he had experienced true love in his life, and that I was his everything. He told me to be strong, to always stand up for what I believed in, but that I should never resort to violence in order to get my point across. He died not long after that. His death shook me to my core. He had given his life for me, he had left behind his family and friends in order to be with me. He had given up everything for our love. When he died, I felt like my heart was going to stop. But I held on to his words, and I knew that he wouldn't want me to suffer like I did when my first husband died. I knew that I had to be strong, and I was. I'm old now, and I know that my time is approaching. I'm sitting here on my porch, thinking about what happened in my life. I look back on my two marriages. I look back on my husbands. I loved them both with my heart and soul, and I know that they loved me in return. I know that they're both waiting for me up there. I look back at my life, and I think that I'm proud of myself. I stood up for myself, and I found true love in my life. I know that when my time on this earth is over, that two men will come to greet me. Both of them had left their mark on this world. They were good, and that's all that mattered.