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Memories of my mother

Heute wäre meine Mutter 85 Jahre alt geworden. Sie ist vor 23 Jahren gestorben. 

23 Jahre, das ist eine lange lange Zeit. Längst tut die Erinnerung an sie nicht mehr weh. Ich kann über sie erzählen und über sie schreiben. Es vergehen auch Wochen und Monate, ohne dass ich an sie denke. Aber sie ist in mir - ich erkenne sie in meinem Gesicht, in Gesten und Worten, sogar in meiner Handschrift.

Meine Mutter starb ohne Vorwarnung und ohne jemandem auch nur eine Chance zu geben, sich zu verabschieden. Sie hatte einen Herzstillstand. Und obwohl mein Vater sofort den Notarzt rief und der Krankenwagen ganz schnell the spot was, it was no one to resuscitate her.

A beautiful death, many said.

But for the members, it is not. It is a shock that stunned all be back.

When my mother died, I was 32 years old and currently pregnant with the 3rd Child. I was an adult and old enough to live without a mother. And yet death is the mother of all life, a deep and sad life of cut.

by her death I have known a feeling that is not previously known: The deep grief. It is a grief that much longer continues, as the area is supplied one. Because of course the everyday demands quickly that you can work again.

I developed many mourners as a survival strategy. I lived in two worlds. One world, that was the everyday use Annette, who was your wife. The other side of me but was an internal chasm on whose edge I could feel cautiously. The crash would have been too deep.

This life in the parallel worlds holds for long.

only move slowly along the worlds, until they eventually form another unit.

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blue - not just a color of the sky

Last year, it at the carnival parades in the district Paderborn massive problems with drunken youths.

This year was better prepared for the police. When the young people had arranged via Facebook in the schoolyard of an elementary school to "preheat" the police were well-organized Facebook, and arrived too. They would stage before a huge amount of high-proof alcohol that they treated beer, wine or champagne as a side issue and only seized the liquor

70 - in words. SEVENTY! - Bottles of liquor were found safe

Ehrlich -. There are some young people saved from coma been.

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Carnival

Last year at this time, I experienced the carnival in Brazil. Not because I love Carnival. It was just such a way that the Carnival, Brazil and I met each other.

It was an exciting time. Loud - yes, above all, it was loud. Anyone who owned a stereo system - and it was only in his car - she had turned to go.

We always think: the Brazilian, who can celebrate. And the carnival is the highest increment. But this time I have seen many Brazilians, who in these colorful, noisy days, just hard and annoying impacts.

Today I had completely forgotten the Rose Monday, so I was dumbfounded when suddenly the doorbell rang. A few children were dressed there.

"I am a little king," it blared.

I did not know what to say.

Thank God my husband had previously bought many sweets. They were meant for us.

nerve food.

But now, I have the full scoop.

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Moved

On Saturday we are moved. A few streets only. And yet there is a significant move. It is the farewell to our family house that we had now a home for 23 years.

Our children have come to help, but also to have to go through all rooms one last time. How often in this house the rooms have changed their functions, were once children, sometimes bedrooms, sometimes work. Everyone has slept in every room. Many memories come to there.

This house with our family history in itself.

Then there are the movers.

Now is no time for sentimentality more.

now towed, abandoned, cursed.

Around noon we are in a new house and sitting in a chaos of furniture and boxes. Again, vacated, dragged, cursed.

last night's time for a glass of champagne

It is beautiful here in the new house.
Only one story has it yet for us.

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dispute connects

Our DSL is still running. I can not help blogging a bit fast.

Today is our last day in the old house, and I'm terribly excited and anxious and sad. Here everything is so familiar to me. Even in total darkness I find my way in this House know of any sound, knows where the light switches are and know the pitfalls lie retarded shoes.

This all will change.

Yesterday our old neighbor at the fence waiting for me. Actually, we do not talk much with each other. They like to argue, so I'm going as a general rule with a polite nod of the way.

But now they stand it no more. For days she has observed how we have to crate crate out of the house.

"You're moving?", It bursts out of her.

"Only a few streets away," I say and suppress the remark "We do sometimes have nice neighbors."

"And what becomes of the house?", She wants to know.

"There, take another one," I say.

"It's a shame," she says, suddenly looks very small and helpless.

"Oh come," I reply. "They liked us anyway, not so much. Perhaps you are much better with the new neighbors."

"You never know," she replies. "To you I had used to me, anyway."

Then she goes into the house to the events as usual, watching from her window seat.

And it occurs to me that conflict is a solid relationship.

(The photo is the way, originated in Brazil, where "protect" the rich their wealth before the poor Sooo bad is our neighbor relationship but not yet,..))

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reading in Petersaurach at Heilsbronn

Somehow we should be long without a DSL connection, but we are not yet. So I can let you know about a beautiful reading, which led me deep into the land of the Franks after Heilsbronn at Nuremberg.

Honestly, I really enjoyed it, to escape the chaos at home.

The long train ride over I could read comfortably. And at the inn, it was nice. There was no packing boxes in the room, the dinner was delicious and typical Bavarian and the small town Heilsbronn was totally quiet.

today then the reading took place at the middle school in Petersaurach, a small village near Heilsbronn instead. There was a book week at school, and different classes had read the book "Merkt but none when I skip. Now she wanted to meet me.

I asked her how recovery Buch gefallen hat.

"Eigentlich lese ich nicht", sagte einer aus der 8. "Aber das passt schon."

Ein typisch bayrisches Kompliment! Ich habe mich gefreut.

Anschließend las ich aus meinem Buch "Im Chat war er noch so süß" vor, und die Schüler hörten total aufmerksam zu. Dann zeigte ich ihnen an meiner Arbeitskladde, wie ich es mache, wenn ich ein Buch entwerfe.

Die Stunden vergingen unheimlich schnell. 

was to leave it beautiful spring flowers and something to snack on the return trip.

Thanks to you all, especially to Mrs. and Mr. Keller Schatzeck summer.