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A large group of American students waited at the airport to welcome the 23 German exchange students, who soon would arrive to would stay with them and their families for three weeks.
Tag: <span>Parents</span>
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My aunt’s body floated dead in the water when she was only five or six years old. She couldn’t hold on to the hand of her older sister, who later on would become my mother, who was only about twelve years old herself at that time.
A friend in Germany sent me the link to a song, and I would like to share it with all my blogging friends. The lyrics are in German, sung by many famous European artists who all decided to not ask for any kind of pay or reimbursement to be able to participate in this powerful arrangement.
“Standing at the edge of my fears
And contemplating them
Is a healthy exercise.
The extent of the boundaries
Of who I believe myself to be.
He looked at the Santa’s costume, which was displayed right at the front door, and when I saw my husband’s face I knew we would not leave the estate sale without it. It was a nicely made outfit. Red fur jacket, and pants, a matching hat, a black belt which later on would hold a fake belly in place, white gloves, and even gold-colored glasses without the lenses.
I had packed a small kid-size suitcase with my pajamas and Dusie. Her real name was Susie, but it seems I had problems with the “S” as a child, so I had renamed my doll. I wore my red winter coat, black shiny summer shoes even though it was cold outside and my favorite dress, that’s all I took with me, and of course, my school backpack.
For the bus driver on his shift who left and never came back.
For the nurse who beat breast cancer but not Covid.
For her colleagues who remember that every time a Billy Joel song came on
she’d pump her fist in the air and scream ‘Billy” with joy and pure fan fury,
for the receptionist who carries on with the fist pumping and shouts in her name.
I don’t know if I can explain love. A desire, a burning yearning, a flame inside giving warmth, the need to care, the wish to hold, the urge to protect, the joy of sharing. One word and so many meanings. Perhaps it’s different for everybody, depending what we wish for?
A group posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds.
“What does love mean?”
The answers were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. How easy it can be explained by innocent minds.
I have never written about my father or the sperm donor who gave me life. That’s how I liked to call him long before I was able to make peace with my parent’s shortcomings, and the part of my childhood that makes people uncomfortable.
He was born in March 1929 and had a normal childhood. He got drafted right out of school to serve Hitler in his army when he was just 13 years old. He was sent straight to the front in Russia, like so many of them. After a few days of training, they gave him a ‘Panzerfaust’ a German anti-tank weapon, used to blow up Russian tanks and for two years he tried to destroy as many as possible.
I was born the day
I thought:
What is?
What was?
And
What if?