The war began when I was 27 years old. It changed everything and took everything from me and my family.

After the Soviet Union collapsed, Yugoslavia unraveled. One day, armed Serbian men came to our town, Bosanski Šamac in Bosnia and Herzegovina. They forced us from our homes and held us prisoner for months, using us as human shields. If you were a Muslim man of a certain age, they would most likely kill you if you didn’t join them. Then they let them take what wasn’t theirs. Many horrible, horrible things happened then. Many men from our town took up a gun and joined them. To this day, I cannot forgive that.

Eventually, we were freed in a prisoner exchange — us for captured Serbian soldiers — and we fled to Croatia with nothing. UNICEF gave us clothes, food and shelter. We couldn’t go back to our town. As Muslims, we were not welcome there.

That’s how I came to Vermont.

Years later, my parents and sister went back. Somehow, my father held on to our family's home, but I lost the apartment I owned. I was too scared to return. When my mother passed away last year, my father begged me to go back home with him. He’s 91 now, and I thought this might be my last chance. So, after more than 30 years, I went home.

But it wasn’t home anymore. I saw some people I knew as a child, but I knew what they did and didn’t look at them or say hello. And they didn’t look at me. We all knew what had happened. I also saw old friends, and that warmed my heart. My father walked the town and so did I. This year we are going back because it is my father wishes it. I still have a family there and am welcome to come back. But if not for my family going with me, I don’t think I could be brave enough to return again.

Vermont is now my home. I love it here and am grateful.

Aida Kamberovic is an LNA at Woodridge Rehabilitation & Nursing.