It was 15 years ago almost to the day that I saw my father for the last time. We spent his 80th birthday in a hospital room in Hamburg where he thought he was back in the trenches of Stalingrad. Prescription opioids for pain from his war wounds and decades of self-medication with alcohol to combat depression and PTSD had finally ravaged his brilliant brain. It was bitterly cold for March, I froze and shivered during long waits at the bus stop to and from the hospital. His apartment in a luxury retirement home (above) was in the process of being fumigated since the cleaning crews had neglected an infestation with moths who happily devoured the Persian rugs, curtains and cashmere coats.  So I had to stay in some sterile guest apartment, stumbling through the days. The view was great, though, the reason he moved there in the first place.

He died three months later, and as per his request there was no funeral, just a sea burial. Although socially quite charming, we was a bit of a recluse and did not want to attention or burden us with cemetery duties.My sister and I walked on this little beach, threw daisies in the water and drew hearts in the sand, as if we were 16 years old. It was sad and satisfying and fitting for who we are.

8 weeks ago I was back in this town, saying Good Bye to a dying friend and connecting with my living ones who provide the last bridge to my European identity and a shared past that included my parents. Again it was icy cold, though that could be expected in January.

Today we are burying my friend, and it is in the mid 80ies, exceptionally warm for March. I wonder how it will be to have a mirror of aging held to my face when re-encountering people I have not seen for 40 years, among the hundreds of guests. I also wonder if jet lag catches up with me or the irritation to have to wear black stockings in this heat, or a flood of tears that I won’t be able to stop, really not for a person, but for an unrecoverable past.

Luckily there is ALWAYS a bright side. On my morning walk I met this character who was quite happy to be photographed and whose cap, adorned with a peacock feather, says: smile! Which is what he encouraged me to do, a glimpse of a human bond forged by strangers, which gave me some peace.