Diagnosis for Life

After receiving a formal diagnosis of asthma (no longer just reactive, but the real deal) and continual problems with high-blood pressure and also requests for tests that I'm not excited about getting, I am realizing that time is of the essence. I guess I always have thought about it, but haven't really acted on it as much as I should have. I need to get out and lasso that life force again and hold onto it tightly.

I enjoy my life, get to sleep in every day, read many novels, put on great musical shows, and have a family I thank my stars every day for having.

But, I've been feeling sluggish and the stay-at-home stuff, while good, has kept me from doing some really fun things. Nothing that would be life-changing, I'm sure, but still.

Travel plans for the summer are shaping up; we'll be doing our annual Cape Cod camping extravaganza with a whole great gaggle of friends in July. We plan on leaving out a bit early to visit a friend in Erie and check out Niagara Falls (the second time for Gary and me, this will be Elliott's first visit). Then it's off to Nickerson! If you come a'callin', I'll be a'floating on the pond.

But during this winter down time (or recharging, I am hoping), I started thinking about family and the disconnects that have occurred over the years. I've been doing a lot of work with family on this side of the Pond, but what about on the other side?

Many people don't know that I have relatives in Germany; my mother's brother, his wife and their daughter (the daughter I have never met and she's my daughter's age!!).

My solo trip to France a few years ago started this reconnection journey. It was wonderful and teary all at the same time when I saw my first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower on the bus ride to the metro from the airport. Then when I finally went to the top and viewed all of Paris from the lookout, I realized that I had really missed so much by not coming here on a more regular basis. We used to come to Paris when I was younger (early 60s) to visit the sites and markets from our little town of Etrepy (southeast of the city). The best memories!

Then, because of the generosity of my landlord's daughter, who lived in the city, I did finally get back to that little farming town. Seeing the sign brought me to tears again and the time we spent there was short, but so fulfilling. Saw my old house, the wash house (really a fountain below ground) where the women in the village (including my mother) would wash clothes by hand, and the crumbling, but still beautiful church. That visit was just what I needed.

So, nervously, last month I wrote my Uncle Hans a letter, telling him we would love to come visit this summer. Now I have done this before, many years ago, and did not follow through, but this time it felt different and my intentions were honorable.

I didn't hear back and I didn't hear back. I feared the worst, that he had died or relocated. Longevity in the generations has decreased with the younger folks in my family; my mother and her sister died young. Hans was the only child left of Georg and Kunigunde. I was worried.

Finally, two weeks ago, there came an airmail letter from Munich. Uncle Hans was alive and well, as his wife (who is only three years older than me--what??), and his daughter Stef. Bad news was that my very funny Uncle Edi had died some time back.

The great news is that my Uncle is a first-time grandfather at the age of 65; his daughter had a baby girl this past winter. She'd been married for about seven years and she and her husband, Alexander, have a child named Leni. Hans said she is very cute and looks like her grandfather(!). That did it; we were absolutely going. There are now two generations that I have not met there and, like I said, time is of the essence. I may not be of this earth next year, Hans may not be, and as nervous as I am to see them, the healing will be great and intense.

You see, my mother's early death drove a wedge into my heart and our family and I think one of the reasons that I have not gone back to Germany (since I was 16) is that the truth of her being gone and all the loss that has occurred since then will become super real for me. Can you understand that? I swear, just thinking about it now brings tears.

I know my mother is gone and has been for 30 years, but when I step on Germany's ground and see Hans and his family, then I will really know and will have to accept all that has happened (good and bad) that makes this life so very, very much a roller-coaster ride. I will visit the graves of those who have gone on before me and make my love for them known again. I will visit the places where my parents courted (and probably where I was conceived) on the river near the Army base where he was stationed.

I will also visit Dachau and other places of death (and rebirth!) with Gary so that he can reconnect with those of his people who suffered so much at the hands of Hitler. Germany is a place that is timeless, that has gone through so much growing and changing, too, and we will be bringing memories and making them at the same time.

It is important to have something to look forward to in this life.